Spring breakup is almost complete

April 5, 2018 - Saturday evening

62 degrees/partly cloudy/calm winds

Pentoga Road

I'm feeling like an old retired grandpa tonight. After a full day of shoveling dirt, almost four yards total, my body is crying UNCLE.

Where did that young man go that could work from sunup until well after dark, day after day, week after week? It wasn't that many years ago when I bragged I could outwork any twenty year old. It's since been revised to any fifty year old and that's only if all the stars and planets are aligned.

Today began with a trip to Don's, my topsoil/compost man. Loading the dirt began somewhat slowly. Seems the battery in his skid steer was dead. 

I had a set of jumper cables in the Blazer and before long Don was loading composted topsoil into the trailer.

Four yards is probably more than the trailer should be hauling. Thankfully, it sports a heavy frame and heavy duty belted truck tires.

The old Blazer was grunting and groaning, but I went slow and made it home in good shape.

I was soon finishing assembling the strawberry frames and shoveling dirt into one, stacking another, then dirt into that one, and so on.

I took a break when I heard Neighbor Mike's four wheeler in his front field across the road. 

The boy was hauling chunks of wild cherry wood to his firewood pile. 

Mike and Germaine were down for just one night and drove back to Marquette late this morning. In the middle of turkey season, there's little doubt Mike will be back later this next week with Germaine in tow.

The top strawberry frame was filled late in the afternoon, one shovelful at a time. It's been a long time since I can remember being so tired. 

The best part of the entire day was planting the fifty strawberry plants that I'd earlier taken out of the refrigerator. The poor things had been kept dormant for well over two months, but I believe they will make it. After letting their roots sit in water all day, there was some green deep inside the crowns. We'll know for sure in another week.

I was about too tired to do much of anything so I went to my favorite place, the garden.

 

I want to plant potatoes tomorrow and begin planting tomatoes, peppers, and other warm weather goodies later this coming week. There's little doubt that I'll have to cover them occasionally on the colder nights, but our summers are so short that I want to take advantage of every warm day, despite what the nighttime temperatures dip to.

Ah, to sit on the garden bench and be lulled by the waterfalls and fountain in the garden pond. The goldfish are doing great, eating, and are happy to be swimming anywhere other than in a tote in the basement where they spent the winter.

Once the garden is planted and things settle down to a low roar, I want to hide the hoses in the pond and make it more aesthetically pleasing. 

I was getting ready to take a shower when I noticed the bathroom sink was draining way too slowly. Since I was filthy dirty anyway, there was no time like the present. 

Out came all the bottles. I grabbed a pan and began loosening the trap and disconnecting the plumbing. Half an hour later, the drain worked like new. 

Sargie was home early this evening and we took a short drive and grabbed a burger. She was tired after a long day of work and we've thoroughly enjoyed doing absolutely nothing this evening.

My girl works from noon until five on Sunday. Other than planting spuds, I hope to begin cleaning the garden, doing some tilling, and getting the different beds ready for planting. There's also the old Cub riding mower that I'm trying to eek one more year out of. It badly needs my attention.

Golly I'm tired. My get up and go has got up and went. I feel like a horse that's been ridden hard and put away wet. In other words, it's time for bed.

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

So are the tales from Pentoga Road...