Just before sunrise on Friday morning

February 3, 2017 - Friday

-4 degrees/clear/breezy

Pentoga Road

I just came in from making an inspection in back of the woodshed and found the conditions and temperature to be... ahh, titillating. One thing for certain, no one's going to get a mosquito bite or be attacked by an errant wood tick this morning. 

We had to laugh yesterday when it was announced that the groundhog saw his shadow and in doing so, promised another six weeks of winter. Simply put, that would be wonderful!

Obviously, those who do the groundhog thing have never been to the Upper Peninsula. A mere six weeks of winter left, what a treat.

Just think, six weeks means that spring will arrive the third week of March. The snow will disappear, the temperatures rise well above freezing. I'll once again don my shorts, worn out loafers, and old t-shirts that contain more holes than material. 

God bless Phil the Groundhog. He's my hero.

I needed a hero after Thursday's pounding in the shop. Holy cow, when it rains, it pours, and the shop was flooded in failures yesterday.

I began the day in Iron Mountain, having the oil changed in the Blazer. Mr. Lube, of the Jiffy Lube fame, told me the differential fluid was low. Differential fluid? I didn't know a differential even had fluid. He said I might want to watch the level, but honestly, I have no idea where to begin looking. Ah, I'll do the search engine thing and try to educate myself. Failing that, I'll call my good buddy, Scotty, in Atlanta, my go-to master mechanic.

Once home, Neighbor Mike and I had a cup of coffee at his camp before I headed to the shop. I had a wonderful piece of birch and felt the creative juices flowing. It was time to make a new bowl, to try a new design that I'd seen on the internet.

Things went well and I was hollowing out the inside when my mind began to wander and I snagged a chisel in a knot. The wood flew off the lathe and fell to the floor in two pieces.

What does a guy do with two halves of a potential bowl? He glues them back together and hopes for the best. I'll continue this morning and see if anything can be salvaged. If not, it goes back to being firewood.

I wasn't about to quit because the wood and I didn't see eye to eye. I found another piece of birch and began turning a new bowl. Wanting to make the granddaughters, nieces, and Isabella, tea sets, or at least a setting each, I've been practicing making miniature bowls, plates, cups, saucers, and glasses. Failure is part of learning, but learning quickly got old. 

Again, it was a design new to me, one that curved in, then back out, before expanding at the bottom. The shavings flew off as the wood began to take on a personality of its own.

I sanded, buffed,and separated the bowl from the stock.

What? In my attempt to make the walls as thin as possible, I made the inside too deep.

As Mississippi Brother Garry says, I'd made a funnel. 

Words cannot describe the muttering that spewed from my mouth. All that work and time spent to make a fancy funnel had just gone down the drain.

In an attempt to salvage something, even a bench top nut and bolt bowl, I cut out what remained of the bottom and cut and glued on a new one. 

I let it dry overnight and will see what it looks like this morning. Leaving the shop last night, I thought it resembled something constructed in an elementary school art class. I'm not hopeful.

So that was my day. I returned to Neighbor Mike's to help him move some scaffolding, but otherwise, I took a late afternoon shower and retreated to the recliner in an attempt to let my artistic bruised and battered ego heal.

Sargie was home early last night and we had a wonderful evening. Knowing she has the next three days off, we were in no hurry to go to bed. 

I'm not sure what we'll do today. I'm heading to the shop as soon as I'm finished writing. Sargie expressed a desire to sleep in, so I'll try to undo some of yesterday's mistakes. Failing that, maybe I'll make some new ones.

Meanwhile, it's time to sip another cup of coffee while the shop is warming up, maybe think a deep thought or two.

On second thought, with Groundhog Phil's promise of only six more weeks of winter, maybe I ought to start thinking about planting some seeds indoors. If Phil is to be believed, gardening season is just around the corner! Yeah...

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

So are the tales from Pentoga Road...

Hey, a guy can dream, can't he?