Recognized for his contributions to the community
Yooper Brother Mark is a rock star!

April 20, 2017 - Thursday

36 degrees/rain/windy

Pentoga Road

Needless to say, I'm proud that Mark is receiving the recognition he deserves for his tireless efforts to better our community. He's truly one of the good guys of the world.

Of course, behind every good man is a woman equally as great. Sheri is just as active with her volunteer work, either for 4H, church, or any where else she's needed. 

What amazes me is that when either discovers I've finished a large project, one will ask why I didn't call for any assistance. Even with all their community service, each finds time to help others.

When God created truly good and loving people, he obviously modeled them after Mark and Sheri. Sargie and I are proud to call them our very good friends.

Speaking of Yooper Brother Mark, he sent along the latest snap shot of Isabella taken yesterday at daycare.

I think we either have a little Gypsy child or the makings of a hippy chick. Regardless, it's obvious she gets her taste in fashion from her mother.

For a day that was going to be fairly lazy, Wednesday turned out to be the busiest since last fall.

After the usual three mile stroll, I turned my attention to making a shelf that Sargie has wanted built and installed for over two years.

To be able to receive the internet signal from the wireless router in the shop, I had to place the router on the top shelf of the desk in our bedroom. 

Sitting caddy corner, Sargie wanted me to build a shelf on which to place the router out of sight behind the desk.

Building the shelf was the easy part. Unloading and removing the top cubby off the desk took considerably more time and effort.



Still, in the end, the shelf was built, painted, hung, and the desk was reassembled.

Wednesday wasn't a very nice day, not nice at all. I cleaned the shop and for want of an outside activity, decided to use a hand shovel and dig around the large roots extending from the stump of the spruce tree that had toppled over last week onto the garage.

I've been wondering how to best separate those roots that run under the pavement from the rest of the stump. I certainly didn't want to disturb the blacktop.



The solution escaped me until I thought of the sawzall. With a course blade, it might just do the trick.



Ah, that twenty-seven dollar Harbor Freight special cut through those spruce roots like a hot knife through butter. 

I dug a bit more. It wasn't that wet.

Hmm.

I started the Ford tractor and hauled the backhoe from the rear of the yard to the front. Possibly a bit of the stump might be removed.




The backhoe felt good in my hands. Bit after bit of the stump began peeling away and with it, large roots were torn from the ground. 

Get out of my way. I was a man possessed. After a long winter of being on the inside looking out, I was doing what I love best, playing in the dirt. It took almost four hours, but in the end, the stump was no more and the pavement remained intact.

The problem with the tree being gone is that you can now see the large tarp-covered wood pile. Sargie, still quoting that, "it looks like a bunch of hillbillies live here," says it will be going away sooner, rather than later. 

Sargie was pulling in the drive at seven last night when the last of the big wood was hauled to the burn pile.



Having eaten half a bottle of Ibuprofen, Tommy P slept like a baby last night.

Sargie closes the Vision Center tonight. With an inch and a half of rain having fallen during the night, it's definitely too wet for any outside work today. 

Hmm, the shop is clean and I can hear the lathe calling my name. I've regained my self esteem after the last two bowl failures.

The trick is to have a nice, even, solid, yet thin, wall. This is the remnant of the last bowl where the wall became too thin and tore away.

Put me in coach, I'm ready to play.

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

So are the tales from Pentoga Road...

I was almost to our drive finishing yesterday's walk. Look on the left side halfway down the hill.
Meanwhile, my deer watch dog, Brutus, the one who's job is to keep deer out of our yard, was sound asleep in his heated doghouse.