My buddy, John, retired Superintendent of Schools in Sitka, sent this picture of a two-and-a-half pound perch he caught in northern Idaho. The boy sure knows how to rub it in. John lives half the year in Boise, ID, the other in Sitka.

February 17, 2018 - Saturday morning
13 degrees/cloudy/breezy
Pentoga Road

It's quiet around here this morning. My buddy, Chief, has left the building. Melinda arrived yesterday, mid morning, and carted the big puppy back home.

My few days with Chief taught me a few things:

The first is that I'm no longer a strong and husky young man who recovers quite so quickly after a lengthy wrestling match with a large playful pup. 

I've grown spoiled in my old age and have developed set routines that haven't included taking a puppy outside for one reason or the other. 

I learned that I miss having a dog here to talk with  while I'm alone. Even at six months of age, Chief was a great listener. While talking with him, his eyes never broke contact with mine and I felt as though he could empathize with what I was saying.

I discovered how much I miss that fat, old, bulldog, Brutus. He was past the puppy stage when he came to live with us and for whatever reason, he simply fit into our lifestyle. He served as my gatekeeper in and out of the woods and as the best four-legged friend a man and his wife could want. 

I don't know what I'm trying to say. Probably nothing. Just thinking out loud through my fingers.

Well, I've decided to take a leap of faith and try substitute teaching one more time. Call me crazy. I am.

Actually, it's all Mom and Dad's fault. They taught my sister and me that if we wanted something bad enough, we'd work and earn the money to purchase it. 

My first major purchase was in 1960 when our local hardware store had a Schwinn bicycle displayed in their front window. It was the Cadillac of bikes at the time, but came with the hefty price tag of $67. 

I asked Mom and Dad if they would buy it for me. Both said if I wanted it, I'd have to earn the money. I doubt Dad was bringing home much more than that amount per week. 

So I became a salesman. I signed up with the Springfield Christmas Card Company and sold cards to the entire neighborhood. By late fall, I'd earned $80 in commissions, enough to buy the bike, a lock, and side baskets.

The hardware store owner agreed to hold the bike until spring and it was a proud boy who peddled his hard-earned prize home once the snow and ice had melted. The Schwinn and I became best friends and countless sets of tires were replaced right into my college years. 

Forward the clock to the present day. Our living room needs new windows and to be thoroughly insulated with a central heating duct piped into the area. The wood stove works well, but as the years pass, the wood seems to be getting heavier. There's also a riding mower that's on it's last wheels, a shop addition, a desired new lathe, etc. 

Are they necessities? Absolutely not. 

Are they worth working for? You bet.

".... if you want something bad enough, work for it."

So, I'm going to try substitute teaching one more time. Seems Florence, Wisconsin, needs subs and the pay's not bad. A couple of days a week? Why not.

I talked at length with the principal before starting the application process and was assured that he ran a tight ship. I hope he's more than just talk. If this doesn't work, I'll kiss the modern education process goodbye permanently. Life's too short.

As I told Sargie, I need to keep my mouth shut and remember that I'm not the classroom teacher or an administrator, simply a temporary replacement. Just as importantly, I need to keep my eye on the prize, new windows and insulation for the living room and all the other goodies mentioned above.

So, I've been going through all the legalities of becoming a certified sub in the State of Wisconsin. Yesterday saw me being finger printed, the day before scanning and sending a pile of university transcripts. I think I'm ready.

Yooper Brother Mark and Sheri picked me up last evening and we met Sargie in Florence for a Friday night fish fry. Since it's on her way home from Iron Mountain, it worked out perfectly. The meal was delicious, the company even better. After, Mark and Sheri stopped by the house for an hour of gabbing and catching up.

Sargie closes tonight. I'll go for my usual walk then see what the rest of the day has in store. It's windy, not a great day for playing outside. Oh well, there's plenty indoors to do.

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

So are the tales from Pentoga Road...

Bye, Chief. See 'ya next time.