August 20, 2017 - Sunday

60 degrees/clear skies/calm winds

Pentoga Road

It was nice to walk into the garden Saturday morning and see one of the sunflowers in bloom. This is a normal-sized plant, probably six to seven feet tall. The head isn't very large and honestly, it can't compare to the varieties I've bred the past several years.

Like much of the garden, few of my trusted giant sunflowers germinated this year. I gave some seed to Jeanne and Boyd and their's didn't either. I'm not sure if it was the weather, bad seed, or luck of the draw. 

There are some other sunflowers that are tall, perhaps twelve to fifteen feet, but it appears the heads aren't going to be as big as in previous years. 

Oh well. A hundred years from now, who's going to know?

Much of Saturday was spent weeding the garden. It's not terrible, but what there are have kicked into overdrive with the advent of the end of summer.

I pulled a few more beets. Though I don't have many, what there are have done quite well.

I was especially happy to see that the broccoli are still producing side shoots. What we don't eat fresh (and usually raw) we blanch and freeze to enjoy over the winter months. Seems as most ends up in a vegetable beef or chicken stew, but we've been known to add broccoli and cauliflower to our potato soup too.

The one and only remaining giant pumpkin is finally beginning to grow.

It should be tipping the scales at around four to five hundred pounds by now rather than a skimpy ten or fifteen. 

Time was spent on maintenance of the garden pond. I change the filters twice a week to keep the water crystal clear, wipe algae off the side walls, and weed around the waterfalls. It's become a labor of love and I'm surprised how much I enjoy the pond and watching the fish swim. It's relaxing.

Not one to leave well enough alone, I'm already making plans for improvements to the pond and water falls for next spring.

The Packer's flag that Andy got me a couple of years ago has survived through the worst of conditions this spring and early summer. First, it barely escaped being attached to the tree that blew over onto the garage. Another gale broke the bracket that kept it in place in June. The flag has been in the barn ever since.

Saturday afternoon was Packers flag day. First was to make a new plate for the bracket to attach to.

Strange how much work hanging a flag can be. I thought the entire thing might take half an hour rather than an hour and a half.

In the end, the flag of the Packer Nation was once again flying over Pentoga Road.

There have been a few apples on the tree to the north of the barn that I've been wanting to take advantage of. 

They are very sweet and soft, not really ideal for baking, but it's all we have this year.

I'm looking forward to the day when the Wolf River apple tree begins to produce, hopefully next year. It's a full sized tree and in it's seventh year of growth. I like to use big, firm, tart, winter apples with which to bake.

I've been wanting to make a snicker doodle/apple pie/cobbler all summer. The apples were ripe. It was time.

The first problem was picking the best ones which were mostly out of reach. The deer had taken care of the easy pickins'. 

Using a rake while standing on a ladder cured that problem. I needed eight to nine cups of slices, so I was gathering for a while.

Next came peeling and coring.

On a lark, I'd bought a peeler while at a lumberyard last year. It was one of those impulse purchases, a spur of the moment thing. 



After all, doesn't everybody shop for their better cooking paraphernalia while purchasing paint and nails? I didn't know if it would work or not, but it looked like it could be a fun machine to play with.

It was terrific! Total time spent on each apple to peel and core was less than twenty seconds. Gone are the old days of whittling away with a dull paring knife.

The machine not only peels and cores, it also slices at the same time. 

The smells of the apples brought back some fond memories, the strongest of being at Grandma and Grandpa Pennington's. I believe it was at Thanksgiving.

Grandma was sitting in a large rocker peeling apples into a wash pan sitting on her lap. A large lady, her hair was in a perpetual bun and she always wore a house dress covered with an apron. 

It's how I remember Grandma. 

The best part of the memory is that Grandma let me eat all the peelings I wanted, a child's delight. 

In my youngest days, Grandma and Grandpa lived in a home with no running water or other modern conveniences. I think Grandma would have loved the apple peeler. On the other hand, if it would have been invented and she'd have used one, I wouldn't have such fond memories, would I?

The snicker doodle apple pie cobbler lived up to its expectations. Warm and covered with vanilla ice cream, Sargie and I certainly put a dent in several pieces last evening after she arrived home from work.

I've found over the years that one can usually judge a recipe's quality by the number of bowls required for mixing. I knew this was going to be a winner as the dish rack was full to overflowing.

I spent last evening watching the Packers preseason game against the Redskins. We won and for the most part, played quite well.

Sargie had to close the Vision Center and wasn't home until quite late. Thankfully, she has today off.

What's on our agenda? I have no idea. I'll let my bride take the lead. It's to be warm and dry, so no doubt, we'll take a ride around to the area lakes while sipping Cokes.

I have pork loin chops marinating in the refrigerator for grilling later today. I used my own secret ingredients of herbs and spices along with a maple syrup/mustard glaze. Coupled with garden goodies and new potatoes, we'll eat well tonight.

It's time to get this day started. Sargie's still sleeping. Maybe I'll strap on the hiking shoes and make the mile and a half trek down to the mighty Brule River.

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

So are the tales from Pentoga Road...