When I say that Sargie has taken over many of the lawn duties, I'm not kidding.
From eyes to tractors, the girl does it all.

August 31, 2019 - Saturday morning

36 degrees/clear skies/calm winds

Pentoga Road

It's a bit on the nippy side this morning. It's still August and these past few days have felt more like it's almost Thanksgiving time. I hope we don't have a repeat of a couple of years ago when I was ice fishing the week before Thanksgiving and the ice and snow didn't leave until May. 

There's a significant group of scientists who firmly believe the shift in climate is leading to another ice age. Other than poke fun at both sides, I pay little attention to either, but here on Pentoga Road, the thermometer is telling me they may be onto something. 

Last year at this time, the blueberry season was over, the melons had been harvested, and the sunflowers were almost finished blooming. Currently, due to a cold and wet spring that lasted well into June, we're in the middle of blueberry season with some probably not ripening before the first real cold snap hits. The melons are a couple of weeks away from being ripe and the sunflowers are just beginning to make heads. 

Hmm, I should probably call Al Gore and get his take on all this.

We were in Iron Mountain bright and early Friday morning to purchase last minute items for tomorrow's family gathering. The animated Halloween characters are just amazing... and expensive!

Back home, Sargie took command of the rider and spent the next several hours mowing the lawn and meadows, plus helping me whenever I needed another body. 

As much as it hurts my delicate ego, Sargie does a much better job as the lawn caretaker than I ever did. 



Sargie pays attention to the little things. Me? When it comes to mowing, I'm more of a big picture guy. In the end, she has the lawn looking as though we live in the middle of a championship golf course.



I was busy throughout the day working on one thing or the other. It took some time to change buckets on the backhoe. The smaller one was mounted and used when I was digging the pond and reaching deep, trying to break up rock, gravel, and hard clay.

The bigger landscape bucket is used for general digging and moving much larger amounts of dirt.



As small as they may look, the larger bucket weighs in excess of two hundred pounds and involves using the tractor, some expertise raising and lowering the arm of the backhoe, but mostly, some good old-fashioned muscle. 

A large hole was dug out in the boonies to bury a year's worth of ashes from the burn barrel. The metals, plastics, and other goodies are placed into the garbage cans to be taken to the dump and dealt with there.

I picked blueberries all afternoon. There are a lot left for any family members while they are here tomorrow. It's become a Labor Day tradition to browse the blueberry patch, plucking off a few berries here and there to eat fresh while laughing and talking. 

I like that. I like that a lot.

Sargie finished mowing and headed to the garage to finish cleaning what she didn't get done the other day. I filled the mower with gas and took off for the back meadows and trails, those areas where Sargie's convinced the Boogie Man lives. 

I've cut back mowing quite so much in the past year or two. Due to heavy snowfall, the back meadow seems to be under water longer and longer every spring and weeds that can tolerate wet ground have replaced the grass. Still, I try to keep them knocked down and under control. 

Though we didn't have school yesterday, the superintendent called and we're still looking for a third grade teacher. Thankfully, we may have found a qualified replacement. 

I recently learned that in Wisconsin alone, there are over 5,000 teacher vacancies yet to be filled. Knowing that, I'd venture to guess that Florence is better off than many other districts. 

I remember back when there were hundreds of applicants for any one opening and to get a job was reason to celebrate. Today, we go out looking for qualified educators. They found me and believe me, I certainly wasn't looking.

In talking to educators in Maine and Alaska alike, all are in the same predicament. Alaska has done away with any defined benefits in their retirement plan and their pay, as in Maine, is average at best. Both states have a higher cost of living than those further to the south.

In most areas of the country, entering private industry is much more lucrative, not nearly as stressful, and allows a person to spend more time at home than in the field of education. 

End of pro education lecture.

It's time to head out to the barn and shop. Both are a mess and while it's still so cool outside, I can get started cleaning both. In fact, I may turn on the heat in the shop. I have all winter to blow on my hands while working on one project or the other. No sense starting early.

Andy sent this from Africa. Growing up, he always wanted a pet chimpanzee, but seems he found a pet in the form of a lizard. 

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

So are the tales from Pentoga Road...

So, I took Thursday off and went bluegill fishing....
Yeah, that's a lie.
Who is that young guy holding that northern pike?

August 30, 2019 - Friday morning

40 degrees/clear skies/calm winds

Pentoga Road

Unless you want to see pictures of a computer screen, some with confidential material, I have no pictures for today's blog. 

It's time to dig into the archives.

As you might surmise, the opening picture was taken in late August in front of my cabin on the Noatak River in northern Alaska almost twenty years ago. I'd walk down to the river, make a few casts, and prepare to battle whatever monster fish happened to hit my lure. 

Getting the giant pike (whose favorite treat seemed to be ducklings, baby loons, or an infant muskrat) to hit wasn't a problem. Landing one was the trick. 

Okay, story time, but a true one.

Dad had just passed away and knowing the pike would hit anything that moved, I flew back to Alaska with a pocket full of his old bass lures. 

Yeah, well, I had probably thirty lures and thirty casts later, they were all gone. The large pike made hamburger out of each by either breaking my line (with a steel leader) or bending the treble hooks straight. I not only mourned Dad's passing, I hated that I lost his lures.

I remember feeling Dad's presence. He'd have said, "That's okay, Charlie. If you're going to lose a lure, better to lose it to a big fish than a tree limb or snag."

I was determined. In the end, I made my own lures by drilling holes in an eight inch long stick, then threading picture wire through and attaching treble hooks meant for salt water fishing. The homemade lure, along with a heavy steel leader and 80 lb braided line, gave me half a chance of landing the large pike. 

The fish had no problem attacking a stick that was twitching on the water's surface. If it moved, it was eaten. In the end, I was able to finally land a few large arctic Alaska northern pike.

Ice fishing wasn't horrible either in the arctic. These are shee fish, a relative of the white fish. Catching a forty to fifty pound shee fish was not uncommon. They are some of the best tasting fish in the world.
(Note the Tundra SkiDoo with the rifle scabbard mounted on the side.)

Thursday was a yawner at Florence Elementary. The teachers were busy getting their rooms ready for the school year, Miss Holly was commanding the front office, doing whatever it is school secretaries do at the beginning of the school year, and for the first time, I was left to my own devices.

I spent a couple of hours reading various discipline reports and a few more researching classroom and hallway management methods.

Who was I kidding? I've been around the block too many times and taught too many classroom management courses at the university level to be reading freshman level undergraduate "how to" articles. Heck, I even knew a couple of the authors. 

My eyes grew heavy.

Then heavier.

The wind blown rain was beating against the windows. Lord, I was sleepy. 

It was Miss Holly who told me to go take a walk around the school. I may be the boss, but believe me, it's in name only. If Miss Holly, twenty-five years my junior, said to take a walk, then you'd better believe that's what I did.

My blood started flowing once again and educational leadership was restored to Florence Elementary.

Neil came to see me later in the afternoon, mostly to say his goodbye's. I'm going to miss my friend. Like me, Neil's from the old school with an old-time philosophy and belief in education that seems to be fading away as the younger generations take over... and that's as it should be. If not, the students would still be scribbling on smooth pieces of wood using charcoal raked from a fire place.

Time for an Alaska picture. Here's one of my favorites, taken in SE Alaska. I'm bringing in a crab pot. 

Boy, did I get spoiled. It was easy getting used to the occasional meal of freshly caught crab or shrimp or the latest catch of the day. 

Sargie and I arrived home about the same time last night. She had a big smile on her face and said her day had been a good one. I think she's really enjoying her new job. She's very fond of her coworkers and doesn't miss the hour commute to work. More importantly, Sargie loves being home and calling her life her own.

We're heading to Iron Mountain this morning for groceries and to pick up a few things at Home Depot. The grass should be dry by the time we get home and the rest of the day will be dedicated to (as Sargie says) spiffying up the yard.

It's time to rock 'n roll. The Mighty Milligan Labor Day Celebration is just two days away and there's work to be done.

While living on my boat in SE Alaska, I awakened to Mt Edgecumbe each and every morning. I'd exit the cabin, step out onto the deck, and there it was.

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

So are the tales from Pentoga Road...

Surrounded by third graders in Buckland, Alaska
I don't care if they're Inupiaq Eskimos in the arctic or munchkins in Florence, Wisconsin, I love 'em all.

First day of school for Ben and Em
Wes (middle) has a few years to wait.

August 28, 2019 - Wednesday evening

54 degrees/clear skies/calm winds

Pentoga Road

Seems after years of retirement, I'm into school right up to my eyeteeth. I'm not the only one. Bennet started preschool today and Emerson is now officially a kindergartener. 

Today was a busy one. Teachers were either attending one meeting or the other or they were working in their rooms.

I spent most the day walking around the building, talking to each member of the staff and faculty, collecting ideas, lending a helping hand, and doing whatever needed my attention. 

When I wasn't busy outside my office, I was answering correspondence on the new computer I was given. I use three computers either for personal use or at school. One is an Apple, another a Chromebook, and the laptop at school operates the Windows platform. 

Put it this way, I'm multicomputeral. 

Sargie had the day off and cleaned most of the garage. She was up to her elbows in soapy water when I pulled in the drive late this afternoon. 

I worked for a bit around the pond before moving onto the garden and picking a few ripe tomatoes. I took most of them to Sue, our neighbor to the north. I had to shoo the deer out of her drive just to get through. Later, one almost walked up to my outstretched hand.




The rest of the evening was spent in the blueberry patch.



There are gallons of ripe berries. Unfortunately, Sargie and I only got about half of those picked.

The flowers are looking beautiful. They almost always are towards the end of the summer when the temperatures begin to drop and the days get shorter.

Sargie works at the eye clinic on Thursday. I'll be back to school making the final preparations for school next week. We're off Friday and of course, next Monday, Labor Day. After that, the school year begins in ernest.

It's time to climb those long, steep, stairs to bed. Sargie will be right behind me.

Virginia Creeper climbing one of the spruce trees in the back yard.

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

So are the tales from Pentoga Road...

Sargie's picking blueberries

Bridge of Avignon
France

August 27, 2019 - Tuesday late afternoon
53 degrees/clear skies/breezy
Pentoga Road

My friends, Norriene and Jim, who are currently on holiday in France, sent a few pictures of the Bridge of d'Avignon. Quite famous, it's tradition to dance on the bridge and there's a well known song that goes, "On the Bridge of Avagnon, they are dancing, dancing..."

The question is, did Norriene get Big Jim to actually dance on the bridge with her? Now that is the question!

Avignon, the city, is also known for it's large cathedral, The Palace of the Popes. Evidently, the Romans weren't being very kind to the senior clergy during the 14th Century, so they found a haven in Avignon.

So ends your history lesson of the day.

Tuesday was a more productive meeting day at Florence Elementary, Home of the Bobkitties. We had several meetings, mostly about curriculum and standards. Ben, the Superintendent also covered some more student safety issues. Precious time was finally given to the faculty to work on their own and prepare their rooms for the school year. 

Lunchtime at Florence Elementary

Since it seems my primary job deals with students (behavior/attendance), their parents, and faculty support, and there are no students or parents yet, I walked around the school talking with various teachers, helping to unpack boxes, and in essence, getting the lay of the land. I'll be meeting with the faculty either Wednesday or Thursday so we can be on the same page for classroom management and expectations of the students. 



First on the agenda will be to emphasize five words, "Yes please," and "No thank you."

Those will be my basic building blocks and we'll go from there. 

Thankfully, most students at Florence Elementary are already well versed in manners. Neil and the faculty have done a great job in the past and I'll expect no less. My goal is to take what's good and try to make it even better. 

I left school shortly after noon on Tuesday. Since the Director of Student Services handles the academic side of the principal's job, I came on home. With the big family gathering this coming Sunday, it was my hope to work a couple of hours getting things ready. 

Mother Nature had other plans.

I'd just pulled into the drive when the rain, hail, winds, thunder, and lightening, all let loose at once. I could/should have stayed at school and helped the teachers with their classrooms. Instead, I ended up taking a nap in my recliner while the rain beat down.



It's late afternoon and Sargie will soon be home from a day at the eye clinic. I'm going to ride with her to Iron Mountain where she has a hair appointment. I'm going to cash in a year's worth of recyclable plastic bottles. Other than, I think I'll splurge and purchase some new socks. 

How's the old adage go, "Clothes maketh the man." You better believe I want my man feet to look spiffy next week while I'm directing traffic and munchkins during the first week of school. 

Sargie will be home soon and it will be time to head to the big city.

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

So are the tales from Pentoga Road....

Mr. Walstrom
Fourth Grade Teacher

August 26, 2019 - Monday evening
58 degrees/rain/breezy
Pentoga Road

There's not a lot to write about tonight as I was in meetings and presentations all day. 

This morning was spent talking about student safety and lock down and escape procedures should a shooter or some other threat be present.

I well remember back when schools were considered the center of the community. In one where I taught, the doors were open until the night janitor left at 11 PM and opened bright and early the next day. When not in use, the community could utilize the gym or weight room and adult education classes were conducted in several spare classrooms.

It's sure not like that anymore. Times, they have changed.

I ate a brown bag lunch with some of my elementary teachers and enjoyed hearing of their summer activities. I've got a good group to work with.

This afternoon was spent listening to a guest motivational speaker. Several other small school districts joined us and it was good to see the new faces. The speaker was excellent and did just what he was hired to do, motivate us.

Sargie and I both work tomorrow. I have my first meeting at 7:45 in the elementary school with the faculty. Miss Holly, my secretary told me she has my keys in her desk. Anyone who's ever hung around a public school knows the secretary is the REAL boss.  Holly and I also have a meeting scheduled, possibly the most important of the day. She'll be my main crutch until I can get on my feet.

Lacking pictures for tonight's blog, I dug one up of my Jack Russell pup, Casey, and I. I was building my cabin in the arctic and had stopped for the day to write the blog. It was sent to a server via satellite phone. Both the phone and computer were charged by solar power.

Time to think about bed. Tomorrow's going to be another day of meetings and getting ready for another school year.

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

So are the tales from Pentoga Road...

The newest and LAST window opening for the garden house
(except for the front two!)

August 25, 2019 - Sunday evening

60 degrees/clear skies/calm winds

Pentoga Road

It's a short one tonight as tomorrow begins a whole new adventure. More about that in a minute.

Sunday morning began in the garden house, installing the last conventional windows. With three in the south and two in the west wall, the house should serve as a pseudo greenhouse in the spring when I'm starting bedding plants.

Of course, trim, caulking, and insulation all need to be added, but for now, the windows are installed.

I finished late in the morning and came inside where Sargie and I made two summer garden omelets. We even included a leftover hamburger and what we brought home from the Mexican restaurant the other night.

We needed supplies and groceries for next Sunday's family gathering, enough that we opted to make a quick jaunt to Green Bay. Though the trip was fast and furious, we had a wonderful time gabbing along the way and arrived home around 8:30 this evening.

So, for the big news. I was approached last week about the principal's position at Florence Elementary. My good buddy, Principal Neil, was offered a job at a much larger school in Wisconsin and Florence needed an elementary principal.

I told the powers to be that I wasn't interested, that an occasional day of substitute teaching here and there was more than enough to scratch my education itch.

The talking continued and I reminded them that I'm on the downhill slide towards seventy and not nearly as young as I once was. 

That excuse was immediately poo poo'd and dismissed. 

My ace in the hole... I rather coyly told them that I'd purposely let all my credentials and certifications expire for the single reason that I'd never be tempted to wade into a full time position again. I was told that the certification's already been taken care of and I have no need to worry. 

Seems they anticipated my every excuse and trapped me in a corner. I'd run out of reasons why I shouldn't take the position, at least on a temporary basis.

So, after talking at length with the superintendent earlier today, I agreed to be the interim principal. I'm sharing the duties with the Director of Student Services for the school district. She can do the paperwork, I'll be the kindergarten cop, the person with feet on the ground.

I don't know. Ten years ago I was teaching students earning their Masters degree for the School of Education at UAS. Tomorrow, I'll be the principal of an elementary school. How'd that happen? 

I promised myself that I'd never go back into teaching, administration or otherwise, on a regular basis, but you know, I'm excited. Deep down in this old body of mine, there still burns a love of education and children. It's what I did for forty two years so I guess a while longer won't hurt too badly.

Or will it?

This coming week is all about teacher workshops. I SWORE upon retiring years ago that I WOULD NEVER attend another teachers meeting. Now it appears I not only get to attend them, I'll get to lead one or two.

I've had root canals that are more fun than teacher meetings and workshops. Someone just put me out of my misery.

Come a week from Tuesday, the first day of school for the munchkins, I'll be the guy with a big smile on his face standing in front of Florence Elementary, Home of the Bobkitties, greeting all the babies as they hop off their buses, eager to attend their first day of classes. 

Pre K (early childhood) through sixth grade. They're all mine.

Oh Dear Lord, Baby Jesus, what have I gotten myself into?

It's time for bed. I'll need my rest to put on my education face for at least one more time. 

Stay tuned, this could be fun.

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

So are the tales from Pentoga Road...

Meow

One of my most favorite pictures ever.
Miss Jody and Mississippi Brother Garry's grandson, Evan, and his best friend, Presley.
Taken a few years ago, Evan (Monkey Boy) and Presley have remained best friends to this day.

August 25, 2019 - Sunday morning

44 degrees/clear skies/calm winds

Pentoga Road

I absolutely love the picture. It captures the innocence of childhood, robbing Mama's sugar jar with which to make lemonade, grabbing a few lemons from the refrigerator crisper drawer, and two best friends, unencumbered by the politics and worries of the world. 

Pure innocence. 

Onto Pentoga Road...

Something not nearly as innocent was the hornet's nest that I just finished spraying.

For whatever reason, the stinging, flying, beasts, choose that corner of the back eave to build their nest almost every summer. I tend to ignore them, but Sargie seems to think that since we'll be having the annual Mighty Milligan Labor Day Gathering here next week, the hornets should go.

The new hornet and wasp foam spray that is commercially available is the greatest invention since sliced bread. I stood twenty feet away and sprayed until the nest was covered.

After doing battle at sunrise earlier this morning, this year's crop of hornets that called this hive home are a thing of the past.

In a different vein, but on an equally exciting note, Andy sent the first picture from Malabo, Equatorial Africa, yesterday. Taken from his hotel room, there's a volcano in the background.

Andy's on standby and ready to head out to his boat for a month of supervising the moving of a large oil rig. He's also been dodging the occasional lizard that goes scurrying past.

I asked what kind of television programming there was in Equatorial Africa. He replied there was only one channel in English, CNN, certainly not his favorite, and replied that he mostly watched Youtube. 

Andy also said, in passing, that human trafficking and prostitution seemed to be the biggest industries in Malabo, so he's not wandering very far away from his hotel. 

Simply put, he ain't in Kansas (or northern Maine) anymore.

A bit closer to home, Saturday was a busy one. Yooper Brother Mark pulled in the drive early Saturday morning and we immediately began attaching the plywood to the back roof of the garden house. Sheri came out a bit later in the morning.

Mark did most of the ground duties while I took a page out of Monkey Boy, Evan's, book and crawled around the roof.

Because of the steep roof, I reinforced Jambo's scaffolding a bit, screwed new plywood onto the top, then two by fours against which to place the base of the extension ladder. It, in turn, was leaned along the steep and slippery roof so I might gain footing without falling and breaking my neck.

The plywood was fastened, then felt paper, and finally, the metal pieces cut and permanently attached. I couldn't have done it without Mark's help.

With the back finished and covered with the metal roofing, I made the executive decision to call a halt to our labors. Several hours had passed and honestly, these old legs were shaking, the arms worn out, and after climbing up and down in the hot sun, I was fearful of making a stupid move, falling, and breaking my neck.

Sargie had made a great lunch of fresh vegetables and cold cuts and we enjoyed an hour of conversation before the folks left for another commitment. 

We'll finish the front roof next week.



Sargie and I took our usual afternoon ride around the countryside. Fall is definitely in the air. The sky is crisp and blue, hay season is winding down, and there's even an occasional red maple leaf showing in the trees.

This year's apple crop seems to be phenomenal. 

The UP is known for its vast wildlife, woods, and water, but it also has an uncanny amount of apple trees, many descended from old abandoned farmsteads.

Most are heirloom apples, those that have a real, old fashioned, apple flavor, not some hybridized, look-pretty, bland tasting variety.

Sargie and I checked on Jambo's camp last night and found a deer enjoying his bumper apple crop. 

Seems apples and deer are everywhere this time of the year.

Sargie's sleeping in. I'm going to install the last of the conventional windows in the garden house this morning and hope to begin putting on the OSB (particle board) wall covering. If the wind stays down and temperatures warm up a bit, possibly we'll go fishing this afternoon.

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

So are the tales from Pentoga Road...

As long as we are traveling the world, from the UP to Mississippi, to Malobo, Africa, we might has well make a stop in Paris. My friends, Norriene and Jim, sent this picture. They were sipping wine with the glass framing the Eiffel Tower at sunset.

Grandbabies and their cousins
left to right - Emerson, Bennet, two cousins, and Ivy

August 23, 2019 - Friday evening

55 degrees/clear skies/calm winds

Pentoga Road

Matt, Jessica, and Andy got together not long ago in northern Maine for a family gathering where Jessica's sister's daughters, plus Em, Ben, and Ivy, went for a wagon ride. It's a good picture of all of them.

Andy also sent this picture of Ivy. I'm know I'm biased, but like all my other granddaughters, she's a cutie pie.

It's a good thing we don't live closer or Ivy would have Grandpa wrapped around her little finger... two or three times.

Friday began with a quick trip to the lumber yard for some needed supplies. After, I gathered my courage and ventured onto the roof of the garden house to nail down the plywood.

The ladder with the homemade hooks worked great and it didn't take very long to finish.

I told Sargie it's too bad the pond isn't closer. In my younger years, I'd have taken the plunge from the roof of the garden house.

There's something nerve wracking about putting one's entire weight on a dangling ladder, but once I got used to it, it wasn't so bad.

The carpeting on the steps going up to our bedroom was dirty. I don't know who the character is that tracks dirt in the house, but he certainly made a mess in the stairway. I used the carpet shampooer and was able to  scrub the steps. Thankfully, the carpet came out looking much better.

Much of the day was spent washing the living room windows. Poor Hambone wanted to help, so we gave him the title of Gofer Boy... as in go for this and go for that.

 Rockin' out to AC/DC, he had several jobs, Spray Boy, Scrub Boy, Paper Towel Boy, Vacuum Boy, etc. etc. He answered to all the above and was kept busy running one thing or the other to either Sargie or me.

In the end, Grady got to solo all by himself on the back door window.

I went outside to lay felt underlayment on the garden house roof before installing the metal sheets. My shadow was right behind trying to decide whether to go swimming or build a castle in the dirt.

Regardless of what he does, if he's in the garden area, he's required to wear a life jacket and have a big person with him. Failure to do either gets him banned from the pond/garden vicinity until he's at least 21 years old.

We leave a PFD (personal floatation device) hanging on a steel fence post and Grady got into the habit of putting it on each time he went outside.

He spent quite a bit of time building his castle from rocks, clay, and scrap 2x4's. 

Tiring of that, he headed to the pond and kept Grandma Sargie entertained. 

With plenty of clouds overhead and the thermometer refusing to budge from the low to mid 60's, the boy was impervious to the cold water.

Grandma Sargie was freezing, but Hambone was comfortable.

I later needed a bit of help stretching the underlayment onto the roof. As usual, it was Sargie to the rescue.

A real construction babe!

We enjoyed a great Mexican dinner in Iron Mountain this evening with Mel and Macrea. After, bidding Hambone and all goodbye, we drove to the Vision Center to pick up some eye glasses that Sargie had ordered some time ago and to visit with our buddy, Michelle.



It's bed time. Yooper Brother Mark said he was going to try to come out early Saturday morning so we can finish the roof of the garden house. After, I want to install the last windows in the west wall and continue putting 4x8 sheets of OSB particle board on the exterior walls. Remember all those pallets I removed the boards from last winter? Those boards will be applied over the OSB as a rustic, quant, exterior siding.

The garden house is coming, slowly but surely.

It's time for bed.

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

So are the tales from Pentoga Road...