It had to happen sooner or later.
The first hint of snow on the back deck

October 12, 2019 - Saturday morning

32 degrees/windy/snow flurries

Pentoga Road

It's wet, cold, and windy, and I'm fearful that we're going to skip Indian Summer and go directly into winter this year. 

I ventured outside between deluges of rain Friday morning and saw the pond had water running out the overflow. 

Thankfully, I'd talked with Cosmo last summer about high water conditions. He told me about purposely building in one low point that was above the outside ground level allowing high water to escape.

The man knew what he was talking about. The water flows from a small dip, across the gravel, and down a slight incline away from the pond.

I was measuring for a front window on the garden house Friday morning, calculating a circle for the arch, and doing all those things that we geometrically-challenged people hate to do, when it occurred to me that I could simply tack a piece of cardboard against the window and trace the opening.

Duh on Tom. I ain't too bright, but my mama loves me anyway.

I brought the cardboard back to the shop and began gathering what lumber was needed when it dawned on me.

I'm tired of working on the garden house and pond. My heart is no longer in it.

It's been seven months since I made the first wall in the barn, six months after the first shovel, filled with dirt, was dug.

In an attempt to beat the cold weather and snow, mistakes have been numerous. I've said, "Good 'nuff," too many times, letting sloppy work go by that I'd normally do over.

The cardboard cutout was stored in a safe place and lumber put back in the bin. I'm finished working on the pond/garden house project for the year.

Physically, I'm still tired from being a principal for six weeks, then making a flying trip to Indiana and back. I'm ready to spend more time with Sargie, relax, play in the shop, keep the wood stove filled, accept a random sub job here and there, and take the occasional winter afternoon nap. 

It's time to recharge the batteries.

I've decided to enclose the garden house in house wrap for the winter, empty the trailer of what little gravel is left, and reconnect the deer fence. 

The pond and garden house will be waiting for me next spring when my batteries are full to overflowing. No doubt, I'll be out there at first thaw, eager to complete the garden project.

Until then, it's time to put both to sleep for a few months.

I was busy in the shop Friday morning preparing a piece of sawmill hickory board to make three mother/child intarsia pieces for the new mommies in our lives.

Careful to plane just a bit off at a time, running hickory through a planer takes quite a while. 



The end product is definitely worth the work and time. I love working with hickory, the grain and hard texture.

Even a small board can create a mountain of shavings. I'm attempting to turn over a new leaf this year and clean my messes as they are made.

Patterns were printed, glued, and the initial cuts made for the first mother/child piece. I hope to finish this one yet this weekend.

Sargie and I spent Friday afternoon and early evening in Rhinelander grocery shopping and wandering around the home store. I'm not certain what all we purchased, but I do know a significant part of my wallet was left behind. 

Hey, it's just money and everyone knows it grows on trees!

Today's going to be another shop day, at least for the remainder of the morning. I need to finish shoveling what gravel is left in the trailer onto the ground and get ready to put the deer fence back around the orchard and garden. I see the four legged critters have already pruned much of the orchard. It won't hurt this late in the year, but I don't want them getting used to grazing inside the enclosure. 

It's time to turn the heat on in the shop and get creative.

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

So are the tales from Pentoga Road...

I'm so disappointed in this year's crop of spaghetti squash. Due to the excessive amount of rainfall, all seem to be filled with water and are rotting from the inside out.