Has spring really arrived? 

April 20, 2018 - Friday

15 degrees/clear skies/calm winds

Pentoga Road

Boy oh boy, it's too darn early to be up for the day. I awakened around 3 this morning with my mind going a hundred miles an hour and I couldn't get back to sleep. There's nothing really on my mind. Come to think of it, there's not much up there at all. I was simply wide awake.

So, here I sit in the very early morning hours sipping coffee, munching a cookie, and soaking up the heat from the wood stove. Not bad. In fact, I'm wondering what the poor people are doing.

Well, the big news, I guess, comes from the State of Wisconsin where I'm now a certified substitute teacher. It only took them two months to ascertain that I was qualified. Ah, the wheels of government...

I don't want to sub this spring or early next fall, but I could be interested once the dark and cold days arrive next winter. We'll see. A little bit of extra pocket money would be nice, but do I really want to substitute teach? Stay tuned. 

At least I have the license should I get the urge.

Speaking of pocket money, I sure seemed to spend it yesterday. After getting the oil changed in Iron Mountain, I made the mistake of stopping at the local Ace Hardware to look at chainsaws. In the past, I've typically had one solid, name brand, machine to do the heavy cutting and a much lighter, much less expensive, disposable saw for trimming branches.

The old reconditioned Homelite I've been using for the past ten years was purchased online for $40. Now that was a bargain. At the time, I figured if it lasted a year or two, I'd be happy. It's been a workhorse, my go-to saw for cutting smaller brush and trees.

I was looking at inexpensive models with plastic parts, like those described above, when I wandered to the high end section of the power saws. 

There it was. A Stihl, a high end name, made in Germany, with German engineering, using real parts. It's what most the area loggers use. 

My eye wandered to the price tag. OMG! It was on sale.

Beads of sweat broke out on my forehead and my mouth grew dry. With a shaky hand, I reached out and touched the machine.

I swear there was a choir of angels singing. If that weren't enough, a bright light suddenly beamed down from overhead. (I later discovered there was a short in a display light causing it to flicker and the choir, well, it was music from the local country station being piped through the public address system.)

 It was a Moses/burning bush moment, a sign from above. There was little doubt that a higher power, a universal intelligence, maybe even Baby Jesus Himself, were all telling me to buy it.

I knew I had to have the saw. It would be mine. Oh yes, by all that is holy, it was meant to be. I would bring home that German engineered Stihl chainsaw.

After looking at John Deere tractors and implements, also on display, then moving onto side-by-side ATV's, I decided my wallet had been emptied enough for one day. A higher power, universal intelligence, or even Baby Jesus may have wanted me to buy that chain saw, but none offered to pay for it.

I tried to get the salesman to throw a tractor in with the saw for the same price, but he wouldn't budge. It was worth a try.

Back home, my attentions were turned to the greenhouse. I've come to the conclusion that I'm an empty six pack/plastic flower pot hoarder.

Before

Four large black forty gallon trash bags were filled over the next three hours.

I have no idea why I've kept all those empty containers, but they're now a thing of the past.

The greenhouse is currently (as Sargie says) spiffy.

After

It was time to transplant a few tomato and pepper plants. The only problem over the next few weeks is that the greenhouse gets below freezing at night.

I sawed round holes in the table several years ago and installed heat lamps to keep the plants from freezing. I used to lay a plastic covering over the plants and lights during the nighttime hours. It worked, but not great.

Hmmm.

I retired to the shop and made a frame from scrap 2x2 lumber.

If my measurements were correct, it should fit perfectly over the plants and lights.

Next came covering it with an old piece of foam sheet.

I stapled it securely onto all four sides making the frame easy to place over the plants at night and remove the following morning.

I'll find out in another couple of hours if my idea worked. It's only fifteen above zero right now. If the test plants survived last night's frigid temperatures, I'll know my high tech fix was successful.

With the thermometer registering well over sixty degrees, water has been dripping off the eaves of the house and garage. If one walks in the garage, he automatically gets baptized.

Only one solution. Remove the remaining melting snow overhead.

I couldn't reach it all with the snow rake, but the remainder should melt later today. The snow that I could dislodge was spread out on the warm pavement where it quickly melted.

It was time to put on my trapper's hat. Neighbor Mike has a skunk that's living under his porch.

Hmmm, skunk bait.

Normally, I like to use a can of cat food, but failing that, I got out the old stand by, peanut butter. I keep a jar in the barn to use just for bait. Sargie doesn't like it when I use that from the kitchen cabinet. 

The live trap is set with an old rug over the top and open at one end. Assuming the critter wanders in over the next day or two, I'm not certain what I'll do with him. Normally, I'd put the skunk, trap and all, in the back of a pickup and take him to the river. Lacking a pickup, I'm not wild about putting him the back of the Blazer or carting him around the countryside on the four wheeler. 

Maybe I'll just set him inside Neighbor Mike's door and we'll make the decision next time Mike's down from Marquette. Yeah, that's it!

Speaking of critters, the raccoons have certainly been busy in the back yard.

It looks as though the burning barrel has been thoroughly inspected.

A large puddle of melt water lies directly below the steps from the back deck and I knew that Hambone was coming home with Grandma Sargie. There's something about a big puddle and little boy that go hand in hand... or feet in water.

I hoped to eliminate that problem by placing a couple of ramps over the River Kwai, or in Grady's case, making a Bridge Over Troubled Water (by the time Grandma Sargie gets done with him if his feet get wet from wading.)

Grandma Sargie and I enjoyed pizza last night for supper. Hambone opted for mac and cheese. We had a great evening and no one had any trouble falling asleep.

I'm going to ask Sargie later today to help me move items that are in the area of the shop expansion to over head of the existing shop. If she can hand the lighter things up, it will save me having to make multiple trips up and down the ladder. 

Hard to believe that I rode my snowmobile up to Neighbor Mike's two days ago.

Grady? There's still lots of snow that needs to be transported in a big Tonka truck, no doubt, using the Bridge Over Troubled Water.

There's something about little boys and mud puddles that attract each other. Oh well, that means Hambone's a good, healthy, normal boy, and I like that. I like that a lot.

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

So are the tales from Pentoga Road...