Two common redpoll and a goldfinch visiting the bird feeder

January 8, 2017 - Sunday

3 degrees/cloudy skies/breezy

Pentoga Road

The long, dark, cold and wintery days of the season are definitely upon us. Like many in the North Country, I find myself getting along by putting one foot in front of the other, merely treading mostly frozen water. I know if I tread long enough, in another two or three or four months, signs of spring will appear and life will begin anew for another year. 

I'm not certain what I find so appealing about the harsh winter months. Maybe it's the extreme cold and snow, conditions not meant for mere mortals. Is it that occasional John Wayne, giddy-up, give 'em hell, gallop across the arctic, attitude I was born with?

I find the activities that go along with adverse conditions appealing, ice fishing, continually shoveling and removing snow from the drive and patio, finding precious time to work in the shop, or taking an after-lunch nap that lasts just a bit longer than those taken in the warmer months. Perhaps it's the sting one feels on his cheeks and nose when he's been exposed to frigid temperatures just a bit too long. That sting reminds me that I'm actually living, even if means only putting one foot in front of the other and treading frozen water.

That being said, I also like feeling not so guilty for taking longer naps when "there's nothing else to do." 

But I also like spring, tapping trees and boiling maple syrup, making dams and levies in the rivers of melted snow, smelling the mud, and getting excited when anticipating summer, the garden, the yard, projects, fishing, and hiking. 

As much as I love summer, I'm surprised how good I feel when fall draws near and summer is put to bed; the red and orange leaves on the trees that eventually have to be raked, adding one last load to the growing pile of firewood, and completing all those last-minute chores before cold weather sets it.

Then there's winter, those long, cold, quiet, dark days with an occasional John Wayne moment thrown in. Realistically, most are spent indoors reading seed catalogues, sitting in an ice shack wishing the fish would bite, or spending time in the shop crafting one project after another. These dark days allow one to contemplate life and anticipate what lies ahead.

It's called the cycle of life. Knowing and realizing that makes the mere act of putting one foot in front of the other while treading frozen water seem not quite so bad.

A flock of gold finches taking advantage of anything dropped to the ground. They are occasionally joined by blue jays and even partridge looking for a free winter handout.

Since she was closing, Sargie didn't leave for the Vision Center until mid morning on Saturday. I was soon chugging down the road close behind on my snowmobile, heading to the ice shack for a few hours of fishing.

There are times I wonder what's the use and why I even go ice fishing. I spent sometime yesterday jigging only to find my lure was caught on the side of the hole and wasn't even in the water. I don't know how many more accommodations I can make, yet I enjoy the solitude of sitting out on the ice in anticipation of catching something. Yesterday, it was several bass.

 

The bluegills also came swimming underneath and though I didn't catch many, what came up through the hole were good sized.

Back home, I turned the heat on in the shop, came in the house and enjoyed lunch, then returned to work on the wooden vase.

Though I do most turning by touch, I needed light while trying to turn a bead around the bottom middle and the very top. In the end, I had lights galore!

The vase was significantly narrowed. It took well over an hour to turn the inside, something I found quite difficult as I was working in a narrow area with several inches of depth.

With the initial sanding complete and a coat of poly applied, I brought the vase in to dry overnight.

Back on the lathe with the new beads added around the middle and top

I'll no doubt find something to fix before I call this vase project complete. The next phase will be carving the wooden flowers that will go inside.

Sargie wasn't home until almost bedtime last night. We had supper and talked a short while before calling it a day.

I'm thinking of going fishing early this morning and being back fairly early, but then I could crawl back into bed with Sargie, snuggle for an hour or two while entering that wonderful state of being fully awake yet somewhat asleep.

Yooper Brother Mark and Sheri are coming this afternoon to watch the Packers playoff game and have supper. You know, that snuggling thing sounds pretty good. Maybe I'll stay home and give Sargie a hand later this morning. I can go fishing all I want this coming week. 

What to do? What to do!

Good grief, decisions to make and only me, all while treading frozen water. 

Life's not always pretty, but hey, I'm that guy who can confront this problem head on.

After all, a man's work is never done.

So are the tales from Pentoga Road...

A large hairy woodpecker getting his fill of suet