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| Tired of seeing dirt pictures? Me too! |
59 degrees/partly cloudy/calm winds
Pentoga Road
These blogs are getting easier to write. Dirt dirt dirt dirt dirt... oops, I forgot, rocks rocks rocks rocks, more dirt, a boulder here and there.
Hmm, is that a run on sentence above?
My life has been reduced down to digging and dirt. The stuff has to be pried out from under my finger and toenails (and yes, Mom, I'm wearing my shoes and socks) on a daily basis and no amount of scrubbing can erase the stain the clay leaves.
I decided to forgo removing the boulder. After crawling over ten feet down into the hole, oops, I mean the bottom of the pond, with shovel in hand, I dug and dug some more around the monster.
After an hour, it became obvious that 1) it could be moved in some fashion or the other, and 2) doing so might be flirting with committing suicide. The boulder has officially become part of the pond.
The DNR (Dept of Natural Resources) would refer to the over sized rock as structure and part of the natural fish habitat. Why would I move it? We all know that a structured goldfish is a happy goldfish.
So the day continued. Dirt dirt dirt rocks rocks rocks.
I developed a severe case of Clutch Leg after spending several hours on the Ford tractor moving mountainous piles of dirt, some so tall that I noticed a change in the weather patterns.
For those I've never personally met, I'll be easily recognizable. I'm the guy whose left leg will be about ten times larger than his right. The rest of my old body may be baggy and saggy, but my left leg can only be described as (as the kids say) buff.
If only the rest of my body would follow suit.
I finally quit last evening. After a good shower and steak sandwich, keeping my eyes open while waiting for Sargie to arrive home was a real battle. My favorite optician had a good day in the Vision Center and said they were so busy that the time flew by.
We're off to Green Bay later this morning for a day of... gulp... shopping. l'm unsure whether we'll spend the night or simply come home later this evening. I'm guessing it all depends on the number of clearance tables Sargie finds and bargains she's unable to live without.
I'll leave those executive decisions up to her. My specialty is playing in the dirt, not shopping.
Time to get ready for a day of sitting in the middle of the mall with the other old guys, all waiting for their wives to finish shopping. No doubt the Packers will be cussed and discussed and by day's end, I'll have the inside scoop on this upcoming season.
After all, a man's work is never done.
So are the tales from Pentoga Road...
After an hour, it became obvious that 1) it could be moved in some fashion or the other, and 2) doing so might be flirting with committing suicide. The boulder has officially become part of the pond.
The DNR (Dept of Natural Resources) would refer to the over sized rock as structure and part of the natural fish habitat. Why would I move it? We all know that a structured goldfish is a happy goldfish.
So the day continued. Dirt dirt dirt rocks rocks rocks.
I developed a severe case of Clutch Leg after spending several hours on the Ford tractor moving mountainous piles of dirt, some so tall that I noticed a change in the weather patterns.
For those I've never personally met, I'll be easily recognizable. I'm the guy whose left leg will be about ten times larger than his right. The rest of my old body may be baggy and saggy, but my left leg can only be described as (as the kids say) buff.
If only the rest of my body would follow suit.
I finally quit last evening. After a good shower and steak sandwich, keeping my eyes open while waiting for Sargie to arrive home was a real battle. My favorite optician had a good day in the Vision Center and said they were so busy that the time flew by.
We're off to Green Bay later this morning for a day of... gulp... shopping. l'm unsure whether we'll spend the night or simply come home later this evening. I'm guessing it all depends on the number of clearance tables Sargie finds and bargains she's unable to live without.
I'll leave those executive decisions up to her. My specialty is playing in the dirt, not shopping.
Time to get ready for a day of sitting in the middle of the mall with the other old guys, all waiting for their wives to finish shopping. No doubt the Packers will be cussed and discussed and by day's end, I'll have the inside scoop on this upcoming season.
After all, a man's work is never done.
So are the tales from Pentoga Road...
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| Look at that terrace. Too bad it will be covered by six feet of water. All that beauty, form, and style going unappreciated. Sometime's life is simply not fair. |
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