Saturday's fishing champion, Melinda, is holding a jumbo bluegill she wrestled onto the ice late in the afternoon.

February 19, 2017 - Sunday

31 degrees/clear skies/calm winds

Pentoga Road

I wish I had the ability to sleep in on days when Sargie isn't working. It was four this morning when I first looked at the clock. By five, I was up and sipping coffee. I don't believe sleeping in is a part of my DNA. 

Mom is fond of telling the story of when I was young, two to three years of age. I'd wake up early, very early, in a great mood, and would regale Mom, Dad, or my sister, with my singing, talking, or other antics to gain their attention so I'd have someone to play with.

The problem was finally solved after toys and books were placed around my bed the night before along with instructions how I should stay in bed the next morning and simply play or read by myself until I heard Mom and Dad get up for the day. 

I'm told that Sargie's mom was an early riser, a kindred spirit. Her early morning passion was reading, doing so long before the eight munchkins and Sargie's dad were awake for the day. Knowing the family as I do, I rather imagine her daily reading was short lived in favor of fixing breakfast for the Milligan brood. 

Both of my Grandpas were early morning people. Grandpa Reinhardt, Mom's dad, couldn't stand to let anyone sleep too long past sunrise. I especially enjoyed when he would sneak into the bedroom where my sister was sleeping and begin tickling her nose, making sounds, or simply rocking the bed. I got a paddling or stern warning when I did such a thing, but Grandpa received only dirty looks and admonitions from Grandma. I enjoyed being the innocent party and merely observing.

Grandpa Pennington and I grew close in the early morning hours at their home in northern Minnesota. My memories are most vivid of the old man sitting at their dining room table in the dark, a hand-rolled cigarette burning in the miniature tire ashtray, adding Half and Half to his coffee, and listening to the early morning news via WCCO, Minneapolis, on their old tube radio. 

Grandpa had a rather colorful vocabulary and when hearing something with which he didn't agree, was known to mutter a few explicatives, pull deeply on his cigarette, take a gulp of light brown coffee, and continue to listen.

His face, the cigarette, the coffee, and the old radio, are all deeply etched into my mind. I wouldn't trade the memories of those early morning hours for anything. 

Onto Saturday's happenings:

Matt send a picture of Emerson and her friend, Shayla, playing with the worm/alphabet puzzle I sent this past week.  

I was on the lake early Saturday morning, hoping to snag a few bluegills and crappies.

Just like Friday morning, fishing was initially fast and furious, but once the sunshine hit the ice, it all came to a screeching halt.

Melinda and Tom soon arrived from Iron Mountain and I met them at the boat landing on snowmobile and ferried them onto the lake.

Talk about a fun, young, couple. Melinda and Sargie have been friends for quite some time. A beautician by trade, Melinda's now an independent insurance agent, though she still makes time in her busy schedule to do Sargie's golden locks.

Tom is an engineer, designing parts and systems for large industrial equipment. 

Saturday's temperatures reached well into the 50's. Even with a brisk breeze, I fished much of the day without wearing a coat. 

Two days ago, there was a foot of snow on the ice. By Saturday afternoon, most of it had melted.

My face certainly got sunburned. I'm telling everyone that Sargie and I were partying with the beautiful people in the Caribbean where I got a bit too much sun. It must be true, the proof's on the face.

Though the fishing was less than ideal, we had fun and enjoyed each other's company.

It's been quite a while since I've laughed so much and I recited tales of arctic Alaska and talked almost nonstop the entire day. As I told Melinda and Tom, Brutus is the only one I get to regularly talk with and let's face it, conversations with the bulldog are usually pretty one-sided.

Flag's up! 

We said our goodbyes later in the afternoon with a promise that we'd get together soon for a fish fry. Tom and Melinda had evening obligations and this old man had fish to clean and wood to carry in.

Sargie arrived home fairly early and we had a great evening together, what there was of it. I fear I wasn't much company. Too much sun and fresh air makes Tommy P a sleepy boy. 

Come to think of it, I really don't remember going to bed last night. I wonder if Sargie carried me up the stairs and tucked me in? At least I didn't wake up surrounded by books and toys early this morning.

Sargie's off today! I have no idea what's on the agenda but hopefully, with a promise of another fifty degree day, we'll frolic and play outside in the sunshine. I'm tempted to start tapping trees, but I see that temperatures are to drop well below freezing in the long term forecast. I'll wait.

Meanwhile, it's time to pour another cup of coffee and listen to the news. I wonder if I can get WCCO, Minneapolis, on the radio in these early morning hours? 

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

So are the tales from Pentoga Road...

Worry not. Though the snow has melted on top, there's close to two feet of solid ice covering the lake.