Say "Cheese" Grandpa
Isabella taking her first pictures without any assistance

June 2, 2019 - Sunday morning

42 degrees/clear skies/windy

Pentoga Road

I'd purchased a little girl's camera with the Disney's Frozen theme from a clearance table last winter knowing that sometime in the future, there'd be a little girl who might like one.

That little girl walked through the door last night. Her name is Isabella.

Yooper Brother Mark, Sheri, and Isabella, came out in their side-by-side for a quick visit, plus, Sheri also wanted to cut some rhubarb. By the way, if anyone needs any, I have plenty.

We had a good visit, took pictures, talked and laughed, took more pictures, and here's proof that Isabella's camera works.

Those are pictures that belong on the wall of the US Post Office.

Saturday was dirt day, lots and lots of dirt.



It's difficult to make digging a pond sound exciting. At one point, I was precariously balanced on the edge of a large hole when I heard a BANG and the backhoe immediately died.

Oh no! A piston? I'd just changed the oil, something I do almost daily now that I'm digging for hours at a time. I subscribe to the "A freshly lubed engine is a happy engine."

I cleaned the spark plug a day or two ago and had become busy with something else before using the plug wrench to tighten the thing. It had worked loose and come out of the hole, causing a huge explosion.



Thankfully, nothing was hurt other than my fragile mechanic's ego. 

Part of the pond has to be eight feet deep. Sitting here in my chair, that doesn't seem to be much of a challenge. Heck, I can reach overhead and almost touch an eight foot mark... well, seven foot anyway.

But, when one is sitting on a backhoe at the edge of a precipice, imagining what it would be like for the machine to slip and tumble into the hole, a few feet might as well be halfway to China.

In fact, I'm pretty sure it IS halfway. 

I'm running into a couple of problems. First of all, the boom has reached about as far down as possible. If I had a big boy backhoe, digging an eight foot hole wouldn't be a problem at all. Mine only goes down five to six feet and still maintains leverage.

Secondly, the clay at the bottom of the hole might as well be concrete. Just for poops and giggles, I tried digging with a shovel at the bottom last night and might as well have been digging into granite. 

I had to build a ramp into the hole so that the backhoe can be taken into the depths of Hades to continue digging today. Also, I'll be switching out the large bucket for a smaller one with teeth. 



Watch out China, there's an Maine(iac)/Alaskan/Yooper man overhead, coming your way.

Time was taken to cut asparagus. It's coming up daily and yesterday, I harvested a big plastic bag full.

I assumed the geese had already migrated north, but the last two days have seen hundreds of thousands winging overhead. At one point, I could hear them honking over the roar of the backhoe.

 Sargie didn't arrive home from work until past 9:30 last night. Thankfully, she's off today, but is looking at a full week of work ahead.

I'm going into town this morning and pick up several packages of seed. It's time to plant what few beds remain in the garden, the simple stuff, beans, beets, snap peas, rutabagas, etc. etc. The garden is woeful this year, but once the pond and landscaping is complete, it should be much better in the years to come. There's a frost warning for tonight, so I'll hold off planting the tomatoes and peppers for another day.

It's time to rock 'n roll. That hole to China ain't gonna dig itself.

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

So are the tales from Pentoga Road...