Sunrise on my way to Florence this past week

September 22, 2019 - Sunday morning

69 degrees/hazy/Calm winds

Pentoga Road

Boy, it's muggy this morning. I don't mind the warm early morning temperatures, but don't like the humidity. Seems the slightest movement causes a person to break out in a sweat. Oh well, I see the forecast highs in another week are in the 50's and below. We'll take what warmth there is, humidity and all.

I didn't think I'd be writing so soon, but I'd taken several pictures yesterday (and before) and figured while I had the time, why not? As someone commented yesterday, it's like I'm writing a daily letter to a friend. Maybe that's it. 

A person can never have too many friends.

I was out the door early and though my intentions were to spend the morning in the shop, I knew with Hambone here, I wouldn't accomplish very much. The boy was happily watching early morning cartoons and sipping a long, cool, glass of milk, so I sneaked out the door and cut a large black ash tree further back on the property. It had become infected with the emerald ash borer and has stood dead for over a year. Though I hated to lose the tree, it'll make great fire wood.

The giant had barely crashed to the ground when my shadow, The Bone, came screaming out the back door, ready for a morning of action.

Donning a second set of ear protectors, just like Pawpaw, he served as tractor and bucket boy throughout the morning, raising and lowering the arms on the old Ford 8N that held the trunk or large branches of the downed tree.

What? I SAID I CAN'T HEAR YOU, PAWPAW!

 I sawed and cut and every now and then, would signal Grady to raise or lower the bucket so the blade of the power saw wouldn't hit the ground. In the end, we'd cut several nice loads of firewood.

Our umpteenth load was delivered to the barn when Grady said he thought it might be better if we used the four wheeler.

Well of course it would be. Everyone knows that a four wheeler is much speedier than an ancient 67 year old tractor and MUCH more fun to drive! We put the tractor away and started the ATV. Though it took multiple trips, it was more fun.



Hambone's daddy and mommy wanted to spend some time with him this weekend, so we met them halfway to Iron Mountain for the exchange. Poor Grady didn't want to go home and why would he? After all, we were doing all those things that boys and grandpa's love doing together, riding the tractor and ATV while talking along the way. Plus, working the bucket on the tractor and steering the four wheeler is something only big boys can do and yesterday morning, Hambone reminded me more than once that he was, indeed, a big boy.

Sargie and I took our usual afternoon drive. We'd just gone by the animal shelter when Sargie commented she'd seen a goat in the yard.

A goat? 

I poo poo'd the thought and kept driving, but after some discussion, turned around and sure enough, there was a big, old, Billy goat in a grassy enclosure.



Seeing me get out of the car and approach the fence, Billy trotted towards me, bleating a fond greeting.

Poor thing. I'm guessing he was someone's pet and left intact, probably grew a bit too rambunctious. 

The old boy sure craved company.

I tried to leave several times, but each time I'd step away, he'd bleat. I told Sargie that if the Hundred Acre Woods (the old popple woods behind the back yard) was securely fenced, I'd adopt Billy. 

But then I was reminded why the goat was probably surrendered to the animal shelter. After becoming best amigos and having multiple goat to man conversations, he decided to rear up on his hind legs and butt the fence in a final farewell.

I gave Billy one last scratch behind his ears and walked back to the car. The last we heard, he was bleating his goodbyes.

Sargie helped to finish splitting the firewood late in the afternoon. There wasn't much and it felt good to have a sixty-five year old tree cut, worked up, and put away in one day. 

We headed to the pond and garden. The grapes, those growing on the trellis, are absolutely delicious and sweet.

We ate grapes for the rest of the afternoon and evening. Some fruits are just too good not to eat.

Skimming the leaves from the pond has become a daily chore, one that I enjoy. The water's not as clear now as earlier, mostly from leaves that have been missed, fallen to the bottom, and are decaying. 

I know that at some point, the pond will reach a natural balance, especially after live plants take hold in the underwater gravel filter areas, but as our friend, Cosmos, the expert pond builder, said, it takes a while. Until then, we'll help nature all we can in keeping the water clean.

Sargie and I are going to meet Principal Neil and his wife, Terry, today for a mid morning breakfast in Florence. They'll be driving up from downstate Wisconsin to check on their home up here.

Later today, well, who knows? The Packers play the Broncos and there are numerous chores that can and should be done. 

Honestly, I wouldn't be surprised if I fall asleep on the couch while watching the game; you know, mental preparation for another week in Bobkitty Land.

I doubt I'll be writing for a few days. On the other hand, who knows? Stay tuned.

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



So are the tales from Pentoga Road...

Miss Jody sent the following video taken at their home in southern Mississippi. Our hummingbirds left a couple of weeks ago and I told Garry and Jody we were sending them their way. Looks as though they arrived.