 |
| It rained Thursday, a beautiful, wonderful, rain. |
68 degrees/thunderstorm/calm winds
Pentoga Road
Indeed, almost 3/4's of an inch of water fell from the skies today. We hadn't reached the critical drought stage yet, but with the above average temperatures of the past two weeks, plus what's forecast for the next ten days, we were beginning to water the garden and flowers. After today's and tonight's rains, (it started again about an hour ago) we're in pretty good shape. Friday is to be more of the same.
I left for town shortly after Sargie went to work Thursday morning. My goal was to purchase a new apple tree, a Honey Crisp.
I stopped by Yooper Brother Mark's plant to get the trailer that had been filled with wood. Mark was out in the yard and we had a short, but good, visit until a sudden downpour ended our socializing. Mark went back to work and I pulled the trailer home.
What better way to spend a rainy morning than sitting by an open window in the shop, working, listening to good country music as the rain fell onto the metal roof overhead.
It was early afternoon when the skies cleared somewhat and I ventured to the garden.
Something different moved in the pond. What?
It was Frank the frog. Frank's been sounding nightly, hoping to attract a girlfriend. He ribbits and croaks and makes all kinds of amorous frog noises, loud enough that we hear him while lying in bed.
The sun came out from behind the clouds and it was time to plant the new tree. The old one had to be removed first.
It had snapped in half last summer during a strong storm with only one live branch remaining. I'd hoped at the time it might live and become the main trunk of the tree, but that didn't happen.
I dug and cut, but even the smallest tree has roots that can reach from Pentoga Road to China. Wiping sweat from my eyes and growing impatient, I retrieved a chain and the Blazer.
It took little effort to yank the dead tree from the ground, roots and all.
The hole was dug once again and half filled with compost. Finally the new Honey Crisp apple tree was planted. We should be picking apples in a few short years.
It was late afternoon. I ran through the shower, threw on some clean clothes, hopped in the car, and drove to Iron Mountain so I could keep Sargie company on her way home.
She works from noon until closing on Friday. I hope to be up early and out in the shop working on the Memorial Day project. When Sargie's ready to leave for work, I'll ride to Iron Mountain with her before coming back home.
Tomorrow's agenda? I hope to be back in the shop. Should the forecast rain not materialize, I'll take an occasional break to work up the firewood in the trailer. Failing that, there's always the option of an afternoon nap.
After all, a man's work is never done.
So are the tales from Pentoga Road...
I stopped by Yooper Brother Mark's plant to get the trailer that had been filled with wood. Mark was out in the yard and we had a short, but good, visit until a sudden downpour ended our socializing. Mark went back to work and I pulled the trailer home.
What better way to spend a rainy morning than sitting by an open window in the shop, working, listening to good country music as the rain fell onto the metal roof overhead.
Something different moved in the pond. What?
It was Frank the frog. Frank's been sounding nightly, hoping to attract a girlfriend. He ribbits and croaks and makes all kinds of amorous frog noises, loud enough that we hear him while lying in bed.
The sun came out from behind the clouds and it was time to plant the new tree. The old one had to be removed first.
It had snapped in half last summer during a strong storm with only one live branch remaining. I'd hoped at the time it might live and become the main trunk of the tree, but that didn't happen.
I dug and cut, but even the smallest tree has roots that can reach from Pentoga Road to China. Wiping sweat from my eyes and growing impatient, I retrieved a chain and the Blazer.
It took little effort to yank the dead tree from the ground, roots and all.
The hole was dug once again and half filled with compost. Finally the new Honey Crisp apple tree was planted. We should be picking apples in a few short years.
It was late afternoon. I ran through the shower, threw on some clean clothes, hopped in the car, and drove to Iron Mountain so I could keep Sargie company on her way home.
She works from noon until closing on Friday. I hope to be up early and out in the shop working on the Memorial Day project. When Sargie's ready to leave for work, I'll ride to Iron Mountain with her before coming back home.
Tomorrow's agenda? I hope to be back in the shop. Should the forecast rain not materialize, I'll take an occasional break to work up the firewood in the trailer. Failing that, there's always the option of an afternoon nap.
After all, a man's work is never done.
So are the tales from Pentoga Road...
 |
| Sargie and her buddy/coworker, Michelle |
No comments:
Post a Comment