A good deal of Saturday morning was spent plowing 

February 10, 2019 - Sunday morning

3 degrees/cloudy/calm winds

Pentoga Road

Hard to believe that February's more than a third over. I don't know if it's because I'm substitute teaching a couple a days a week, or I'm getting older, or possibly, the hours are getting shorter, but this winter has absolutely flown by. Stop and think that in another six weeks, we SHOULD be looking at the advent of spring when the cycle begins anew.

On the other hand, for the past several years, spring didn't arrive until a week or two into April. We'll keep our fingers crossed.

Most of yesterday morning was spent on one four wheeler or the other cleaning the drive and getting Jambo's plowed and cleaned from this past week's snow. 

I'd be lying if I said it was a miserable experience. It wasn't. The temperature was a balmy ten below zero, the sun was bright, and there wasn't a hint of breeze. It was simply a good morning to be playing outside.

I made a quick dash to town for some sale items that were forgotten on Friday. It was refreshing to see a few munchkins and their parents sliding down the old Caspian ski hill.

Fond memories of over fifty years ago were brought to mind when my best friend, Brian Miller, and I, would dash home from school, change our clothes, and run to The Hill pulling double runner sleds.

And that's how it was referred to, The Hill.

"Mom, I'm going to The Hill."

"OK, but when you see the back light, you get home for supper."

I could see the back of our house located at the edge of town from the top of The Hill. When Mom flicked the patio light on, that meant the day's sledding activities were finished. It was home for supper followed by half an hour of making music with Dad, then into my room for homework. 

The Hill wasn't without its dangers. It was steep and long and once the snow became firmly packed, sledding was fast. Another friend, Kenny Faught, once lost control and crashed into a tree necessitating the removal of his spleen. 

Still, we were young and carefree and The Hill made us feel alive with nary a care in the world.

I feel badly for those young ones who are so bound to their phones and tablets that they'll never get to experience their own hill. I'm told that's one of the reasons why the Caspian ski hill closed years ago, lack of interest. 

Thankfully, Brian Miller and I had the opportunity to be young and alive with nary a care in the world while zooming down a snow packed hill. It's one of my best childhood memories.

I went to start a fire in the wood stove late Saturday morning and couldn't find my splitting maul. Oh no, the bane of wintertime in the north. It's covered by deep snow.

I know where it is, I just can't find it.

More items have been lost over my adult lifetime during the snowy winter months; everything from screw drivers, to a toboggan, various nuts and bolts, and now, my twelve pound splitting maul.

I'll continue to dig and poke around, but experience tells me that it probably won't be found until the spring thaw when the handle will magically poke from beneath the ice and snow. 

True story:

I was staying overnight at the school in Kivalina, Alaska, years ago when a huge storm blew in off the Chukchi Sea. I went out the next morning and found that my Tundra snowmobile had vanished during the night. 

Panic-striken, I was about to call the VPO, Village Police Officer, when I hit my knee on something well under the snow.

Thankfully, the arctic had shown mercy and relinquished my Tundra.

To move the clock forward twenty years:

Saturday afternoon was spent in the shop working on the mother/child piece.

First order of the afternoon was to glue the arch onto the backing. It was much like making a picture frame, only the arch kept wanting to straighten itself by springing outward. More than a few words were mumbled.

After came shaping and sanding each piece then being sure it would fit in its assigned place within the arch.

I don't know why, but I find the whole carving/sanding process quite relaxing. It's like putting together a jigsaw puzzle.

In the end, all the pieces fit. I brought the piece into the house last night for Sargie's inspection and she pronounced it good to go. That means it's ready for the final sanding and coated with a gloss finish.

After, a small base will be added followed by one last coat of poly and we'll call it good 'nuff.

Sargie was home early last evening and I thought I'd surprise her by making grilled hamburgers, a bit of summer in heart of winter. Only one problem...

Whoops, I hadn't thought about the foot of snow covering the grill. Still, after a few minutes of shoveling and brushing, it fired up like brand new and we enjoyed a summer-type meal last night.

Sargie's off for a few days. Her boss will be gone for the next six weeks or longer on a medical leave, so this will be the last of Sargie's part time work for a while. She'll be working long hours with little time off beginning later this week.

I'm the high school math teacher tomorrow and the window man comes for a final measuring on Tuesday. Looks to be a busy week ahead.

It's time to head to the shop and try to finish the mother/child piece. After, I'll let Sargie decide what the rest of the day will bring. No doubt it will involve a peaceful drive around the area. Sounds like my kind of Sunday afternoon.

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

So are the tales from Pentoga Road...