Congratulations to my grandson, Coleman, for winning his weight division in a large New England wrestling meet this past weekend.

January 7, 2019 - Monday morning
32 degrees/rain/snow/sleet/breezy
Pentoga Road

I'm proud of ol' Coleman for his victories on the wrestling mat. The boy has seen several runner-up finishes over the past two years, but this weekend, he finally broke through to win his division. 

Note: the wrestler in red is about a foot taller than Coleman. The bigger they are, the harder they fall.

By the way, that's my son, Luke, Coleman's daddy, who's screaming, "HEAD UP!! HEAD UP!!" along with other fatherly instructions. Luke, like his daddy, might be described as a bit competitive.

Anyway, congratulations, Coleman. You make Grandpa P and Grandma Sargie mighty proud!

The big news in the north woods is the storm that dropped several inches of wet snow during the night. 



I have no idea how much fell as it was driven by gusts of up to forty five miles per hour. Some places have as much as a foot with just a couple of inches in other areas.

Sargie called early saying she wouldn't be into work. We both agree that no job is worth risking life or limb for. 

I headed out the door before daybreak to clean the drive and deck. The high today is to be 37 degrees with light rain and eventually, freezing rain, before temperatures fall again. The plow and snowblower work well removing snow, but when it gets wet and heavy, both become much more of a chore.

Much of Sunday was spent on the lake. 

How'd I do?

Put it this way, if bass were crappies or bluegills, I'd have had a heck of a mess.



If I caught one bass, I caught a dozen, many in the three and four pound range, but nary a crappie or bluegill would touch my jig. I watched them on sonar swim up to my bait, show a bit of interest, then turn around and swim away.

Two young guys were also fishing with the same frustrating luck. We could see the fish, but to get them to hit was another story.

I arrived home in time to watch the last half of the Bears/Eagles football game. I was rooting for Chicago, but they fell one point short. Just like Green Bay, they'll have to wait until next year to have another run at the Super Bowl.

Sargie worked from noon to five yesterday. I started frying fish as soon as she left Iron Mountain and had large platters of sizzling filets and French fries ready when she walked in the door. Needless to say, Sargie and Tom, once again, ate like little piggies last night.

Today's going to be one of those, throw a log on the fire, pop a big bowl of popcorn, snuggle under a blanket on the couch, and watch a good movie, type of days. No doubt, my eyes will close at some point. This kind of weather is also conducive for taking a good old-fashioned grandpa nap.

Though Sargie's off tomorrow, I am filling in for the high school business teacher in Florence. I don't mind. Might as well earn some money during these long, dark, days of winter.



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

So are the tales from Pentoga Road...

Rather than substitute teaching, I should become a wild turkey farmer. Suddenly, they are everywhere.