Mississippi Brother Garry sent this photo saying he'd been driving under all dark clouds when suddenly, there was one of pure white. It made for a strange phenomenon.

September 23, 2018 - Sunday morning

43 degrees/cloudy/calm winds

Pentoga Road

It's difficult to believe that Mississippi Brother Garry and I live on the same continent. While we enjoyed yesterday's near perfect highs in the upper 50's and low 60's, it seems southern Mississippi bathed in high humidity accompanied by 90 plus temperatures. 

I don't want to get too haughty. Winter isn't that far off and we'll soon be envying their tropical climate. How's that old saying go? 

He who laughs best laughs last.

I kissed Sargie goodbye Saturday morning as she left me alongside the road on her way to work. The next three miles went smoothly and other than the usual aches and pains of getting my walking legs back, there were no problems. 

Once home, I finished digging and building the form for the pad that the wood furnace will sit on.

I found some old tomato cages in the scrap metal pile that will hopefully keep the slab from cracking apart in the future.

I mixed and stirred, poured and mixed some more. Thankfully, Neighbor Mike had made the offer of a bag or two of old concrete that was in his garage. Almost finished, I found myself one bag short.

A quick four-wheeler ride to Mike's solved the problem. The cement was poured and let to cure. I'll check on it this morning and hopefully, it set up.

With Jambo's advice (he's a real carpenter) I've decided to put the stove several feet away from the barn. Knowing the furnace will give off more heat than I'll need, I wanted to give it plenty of breathing room to minimize any possible fire hazard. 

With that in mind, I'll be planting several posts and an attached frame to the barn and finish the roof and partial sides with metal. 

The roof will have to be heavily reinforced as several feet of snow slide off the barn during the winter months. Hey, it's a project and we like projects, right?

The yard needed mowing in places. I wish I knew what makes grass grow in one place, yet barely survive just a few feet away. It was scruffy and time to crank up the mower.



The rest of the day and well into the evening hours was spent burying the old burn pile.

In an ideal world, I would have been able to spread the ashes around the meadows and yard to be used as a natural fertilizer. However, in the real world of Pentoga Road, I'd noticed a few nails and other small metal objects peering out from the mounds of ash.



The last thing I want to endure is a lifetime of flat tires caused by running over fifty year old nails that were scattered around the yard. The burn pile was huge when I purchased the house nine years ago. I can only imagine how many years worth of stuff was buried in the ashes.

So, I began to dig, then dig deeper, and deeper still, and when I saw signs pointing to Shanghai, I knew I'd better stop. 



The ashes are buried, the surface area scraped clean. I'll use the dirt/clay taken from the hole to use as fill around the meadow and in back of the yard. After an hour or two with a rake, the area should be ready for grass seed.



Sargie didn't arrive home until late last night. She closed the Vision Center then did some grocery shopping and visiting with a cousin before leaving Iron Mountain. I was ready for bed when she walked through the door so our evening was short.

Thankfully, she's off for the next two days. Other than today's Packers game at noon, I have no idea what may be on our agenda. I guess we'll play it by ear.

How's this for a big ol' slice of cantaloupe? Though we grew them large and pretty this summer, northern cantaloupe don't seem to attain a real sweet flavor like those grown in the south. Our early Ukrainian honey dew melons were outstanding. I can't say that for the cantaloupe.

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

So are the tales from Pentoga Road...