A Christmas segmented piece I made earlier this week

November 30, 2019 - Saturday morning

27 degrees/cloudy/calm winds

Pentoga Road

It's a special happy birthday wish that goes out to my OLD(er) sister, Barbara Ann, this morning. My only sibling is SEVENTY years old today. 

As young children, B'ann loved to remind me that she was much older, two and a half years to be exact. 

A person should watch what she says, it can come back to haunt her, even sixty five years later.

Sargie and I will see B'ann and all in a couple of days down in Illinois. Meanwhile, happy birthday, Sis. Oh, and don't worry about being old. I'm right there behind you.

Thanks to everyone for your outpouring of support and sympathy. Mom always liked a bit of flair and she'd have been moved by all the texts, emails, comments, and phone calls. 

Onto a more delicious subject:

I just finished a to-die-for sweet roll.

Neighbor Mike drove down from Marquette yesterday with gifts in hand. The boy had stopped at our local bakery in Crystal Falls and gotten Sargie and me sweet rolls and donuts.

Mmm, warmed with a pad of butter melted and dribbling down the sides. Some of life's biggest pleasures are the smallest ones. In this case, it was a wonderful sweet roll given by an even better friend. Thanks, Jambo!

Jambo and I prepared his four wheeler for another season of snow removal. It took only minutes to mount the plow and put a bit of air in the tires. Mike spent much of Friday plowing his drive and camp yard. 

I returned home to work on removing the several feet of snow that had fallen onto the back deck from the roof of the house. It was wet, packed, and heavy, much too heavy to use a snow blower. There was only one solution, good old fashioned shoveling.

 I quit when my back began screaming UNCLE. I'll finish later this morning, just in time for the next major winter storm to come blowing through.

Sargie and I drove to Iron Mountain to get the oil changed and the car made ready for next week's marathon drive to Illinois, onto Indiana, and finally, back to the UP. 

Much of the day was spent on the phone, either with my sons, my cousin Penny in Arizona, or talking/texting with B'ann. 

I regard Penny, or Pen Lynn, as I like to call her, as a surrogate baby sister. She's a fire cracker and probably the hardest working individual I've ever met (a claims adjustor). Most importantly, Pen Lynn's the glue that holds Mom's side of the family together. We've gone months, even years, and not talked, but when anyone in the family is in distress, Penny's there. She's a true angel in a beautiful pint sized package.

Penny is flying in from Arizona and I'm anxious to see her. I've not seen the girl in well over twenty-five years. I also learned that another cousin, Cindy, may be coming from the DesMoines, Iowa, area. Cindy and I last saw each other ... hmmm, maybe thirty years ago? The biggest surprise is that another cousin, Bonita "Bunny" is planning to attend Mom's funeral. It's been around fifty five years since I last saw Bunny.

Funny story, well, it's funny now, about Bunny and me. Bunny was a teeny newborn and being just a young boy myself, I asked if I could hold her. Aunt Pete (Phyllis) gave me Bunny with instructions to support her head and neck.

I did, except she squirmed and I dropped her smack on her head. I hope Bunny doesn't blame me for any of the aches and pains she's had throughout her lifetime.

Penny sent me a picture yesterday of the two of them.

Bunny and Penny

Bunny's not all that tall, but Penny's one of the little people and I'm fairly certain she lives in Munchkinland. (Oh don't be offended. If I don't tease Pen, she'll think I don't love her anymore.)

As someone recently said, it's too bad it takes a death in the family for everyone to get together.

Sargie and I will spend this weekend preparing for next week's travel. Since a major storm is expected to begin dropping even more snow this evening and all day Sunday, we won't leave here until early Monday morning for Galesburg, Illinois. The funeral and visitation will be Tuesday morning then we'll drive to Mom's in Terre Haute and stay in her apartment. Depending on how long it takes to finish with business, we'll be heading back to the UP when we can. Sargie has arranged to take off work next week and I don't think I'll be subbing anymore between now and Christmas. 

I've been asked several times how I'm doing. Sargie has been my rock, my foundation, my wife and best friend, upon whom I have leaned the past couple of days. During one of the last conversations that Mom and I had last week, Mom said she felt she could "go home" because she'd never seen me so happy. She knew I was in good hands with Sargie and loved her every bit as much as I do. 

Penny's been a constant support, Yooper Brother Mark's always nearby, either in person or by phone or text, Garry's there in voice and email, and of course, my sons have called. 

I'm doing just fine. Surrounded by so much love, how else could I be?

Physically, I'm a bit tired. My body and mind are telling me it's time to slow 'er down just a bit. We get next week over and that's exactly what I'm planning to do.

Okay, there's a storm due to arrive later today and I still have the remnants of Wednesday's snowfall to clear from the back patio. It's time to get busy.

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

So are the tales from Pentoga Road...

Mom
Born 6/26/27
Passed away 11/28/2019

November 29, 2019 - Friday morning

24 degrees/cloudy/calm winds

Pentoga Road

This is a hard one to write this morning, but I need to go through the motions. It's how I mourn, by releasing the pain through my fingers and onto the keyboard. I'll cry most the way through, but once I'm done, I'll feel better. 

That's the way it's always worked.

I wrote in my newspaper columns when all four of my grandparents passed away. I shared the passing of Dad's death many years ago in a blog, and now, it's time I do the same with Mom.

The snowstorm of Thanksgiving 2019 was about as ill timed as it could be. My sister, Barb, had called earlier this week saying that Mom wasn't in good shape and if we could make it to Indiana, it might be time. 

The weather forecast was for inches and inches of snow, Sargie had to work, and there was no way I was going to leave her by herself in a snowstorm. Since the power was out for over twenty four hours, I'm especially glad I remained at home.

When the power came on Thanksgiving morning, a slew of messages arrived with the phone and internet service. One of them was from Barb saying Mom was in bad shape and that I needed to call.

I couldn't get Barb on the phone, so I called the hospital and talked to the nurse in ICU that had cared for Mom the whole previous night. She told me Mom had passed away while sleeping. 

I'm told there were three nurses at her side and that Mom's breathing became slower and slower and then just like that, she'd left.

There's no doubt that Dad and Jesus were standing, side by side, to greet her. 

Mom finally got her wish. 

In declining health for the past several months, Mama was quick to tell us that she was ready to "go home" and that she missed Dad. We quipped that evidently, God had other plans for her and after all, good help is hard to find and it was obvious her room wasn't yet ready.

Sargie and I count ourselves lucky that we got to spend last weekend with her before she went into the hospital. We talked, laughed, exchanged her summer clothes for winter clothes, and even had a pizza party in Mom's apartment. Poor Mom was suffering from a variety of aches and pains, but she was bound and determined to walk to her apartment from the nursing home side of her complex, then onto the dining room where she's eaten for years. 

As it turns out, that was her last lengthy walk. Mom went into the hospital the day after we left.

There's little doubt that Mom had her ultimate departure planned. Other than the fact that her goodbye's were fervent and her hugs longer than usual, she said something we found strange.

Mama has had a large Christmas wreath placed over Dad, Grandma, and Grandpa's graves in Galesburg, IL, for years. It was something she was adamant about.

Sargie asked Mom last weekend if she'd ordered the wreath and Mom's immediate reply was, "I'm not going to do that this year."

Looking back, we now know why. I think Mom kept herself going until she could tell Sargie and me goodbye during our last visit. She did the same with my sister and brother in law just two days ago.

Before that, Mom had been failing and was often delirious. Barb called a couple of nights ago and said things were looking up. Mom was awake, alert, and though she couldn't talk because of a pesky oxygen mask, she and Barb "talked." Mama learned that Sargie and I were stuck in the UP due to the snowstorm, but that we'd be down as soon as the roads were clear. 

Barb called shortly after saying that Mom was on the upswing, that with forced oxygen, her mind was becoming clear and the doctor had talked of hopefully weaning her off the oxygen and getting Mom on with her life.

That didn't happen. 

God found a room for Mom Thursday morning and she got her wish. Mama finally was able to join Dad surrounded by God's holy love. 

I don't know how to feel. There were times these past two weeks that my prayers swiveled a complete 180 degrees from one day to the next. 

When Mom was suffering from lack of oxygen and in obvious pain, I prayed that God would take her home. After learning that she was doing better, I prayed even harder that God would make her well, that she might once again join her girl gang at the senior complex and be able to spend just one more Christmas here in the UP. 

I've gone through all the emotions that I'm supposed to. I've laughed about some of Mom's antics from years past and I've cried when I remember all that remains of Mom are memories. 

Anger was something I wasn't prepared for and poor Sargie was on the brunt end of it last night. 

We were driving home from the Milligan Thanksgiving when it dawned on me that I was an orphan. I may be standing on the back porch of life, but how dare Mom go and leave me? How selfish could she be? I mean, I've written this lady an early morning email each and every day since Dad died and called her several times a week for almost twenty years. The reason I began writing a blog years ago was so she and Dad could see the pictures of where I'd been and of my activities.

... and this is how she repays me... by dying and leaving Barb, John, Sargie, and me?

Then my anger turned to fear.

Honestly, I'm scared. I'm damned afraid. I'm petrified. 

It dawned on me that I'm an orphan.

Mama's always been there from the time I was born until yesterday. She's stayed by me through good times and bad and always been my biggest supporter. Mom's given me sound advice when I asked for it, sometime dispensed advice even when I didn't want to hear it, and often was my sounding board, knowing all I needed was to talk. 

Any anger and fear quickly passed when I realized that Dad needed her too. As much as she loved Barb and me, she loved, missed, and needed Dad even more. 

Thankfully, Sargie forgave me for being short with her while I was angry. 

She understood.

You see, she's an orphan too.

Mom loved her grandbabies, her great grandbabies, and her great great grandbaby. Though she seldom got to see any, she had pictures plastered all over her apartment of her family. Mom loved to label each then stand back and look at her collection. 

Three of the four Pennington boys at Mom's 90th birthday party. Andy couldn't make as he was in some far off place drilling for oil.

So Mom's gone on ahead. As Barb said yesterday, there's little doubt she and Dad are dancing and having a great time. 

Allow me...

Dad's young, healthy, and cancer free. Mom is beautiful. Her long dark brown hair is swishing back and forth as Dad swings her around to the latest Glenn Miller tune. 

They're sitting at a table between songs, heads close together and there's little doubt that Dad's saying something borderline inappropriate. Whatever it is, it's making Mom laugh and giggle like a college age girl, because now, once again, that's just what she is.

The band is beginning to play again.

It's one of Dad's favorite songs, In the Mood.  The boy's hopping out of his chair heading to the middle of the dance floor when suddenly, he remembers he forgot Mom. Turning around and grabbing her hand, Dad can be heard saying, "C'mon Hedy, LET'S DANCE."

And dance they will. 

Just a couple of things.

Mom, thanks for being the best mother in the world. No child could want for better. You'll always be my mommy.

Oh, and do me a favor, would you... save a dance for me. I'll be along some day.

Meanwhile, you and Dad have fun catching up.

It's time to close now. Just remember, Mama, I will always love you.

Pictures from the Thanksgiving storm on 2019.

Electric service ended at 8 AM, November 27th and was restored by 10 AM November 28th

Sargie and I actually had fun during the twenty-six hours that we had no electricity. It felt like the old arctic camp days as we hauled in snow to melt for water, played cards by lamp light, listened to the radio, talked, peeled rutabagas by lamp light, and went to bed in pure silence and absolute dark.

There's not enough time to describe each picture, but I think each tells it's own story.

Sargie and I revived our games of cut throat Rummy played on the floor by the wood stove. We laughed and had a lot of fun... well, she did since she was usually the winner. Me? I was just along for the ride.

The biggest personal loss during the snowstorm was of my Wolf River apple tree. Nine years old and FINALLY bearing apples this year, two main branches cracked and fell to the ground. I haven't looked closely, but I'm guessing that I'll end up cutting the entire thing down and starting again.

I estimate we received close to a foot of snow, but it was so wet that it quickly settled making for difficult plowing conditions. It also made for downed trees and power lines.

Peeling rutabagas by lamplight Wednesday evening for Thursday's feast

A couple of pictures from the Milligan Thanksgiving Day gathering.

Aria and Auntie Trish

November 27, 2019 – Wednesday

32 degrees/heavy snow/breezy

Pentoga Road

Happy Birthday to my little guy, Luke. It's times like these I wished we lived closer so I could help him celebrate his special day.

Again, happy birthday son. Sargie and I love you.

Whoops, where’d the electricity go? I was in the middle of uploading today’s pictures when I heard a beep from one digital gadget or the other, then suddenly, complete silence. The only sound in the house is the clicking of the keys as I write (using battery power) and the crackling of the fire in the stove.

I can’t even put my easy chair into the reclining position since it is has all electronic movements.

I’m chuckling to myself. I feel SO inconvenienced, yet it wasn’t that many decades ago that I was patting myself on the back for being the proud owner of one solar powered electric light bulb in my arctic cabin. Oh, I was big stuff and there were people riding down the river on their way to the village who pulled to the side on their snowmobiles to witness my modern convenience.

… and today I’m complaining that my chair won’t recline? Lord almighty I’ve gotten soft in my old age.

What a difference a day makes. I enjoyed a gorgeous five-mile walk around the block Tuesday morning. The sun was bright and despite it being deer season, they seemed to be in every field and around every curve.

Arriving home, I changed from my hiking boots to something more appropriate and made my way to the shop. I’d seen a picture of a manger/Nativity scene that I had to try.

It’s a segmented piece, much like the mother/child work that I’ve made for several new mommies, only this one uses various stains rather than paints.

In the end, it came out okay. I'll some other features in future Nativity segment pieces, but this will do for a start.

Sargie had a good day at work and we bee bopped into town for her Coke and to pick up a few last minute groceries last evening. With the storm bearing down on our area, she wanted to stock up should be we snowbound for a day or two.

We awakened this morning to several inches of new wet, heavy, snow. Guessing, I’d estimate around eight inches have fallen, but it’s difficult to tell as it’s wet and settles immediately.

Still having electricity, I made coffee and attempted to get on the internet. There was none. I peered out the windows and saw both the television and internet satellite dishes were covered with snow.

I made my way to the barn for an extension ladder then back around to the side of the house. A few minutes later, all services were restored.

I got my usual early morning emails finished before the power went out. Hard telling when it will be restored.

The county plow has yet to come through and if this storm is anything like those of the past, it could be a day, possibly two, before we’re able to go anywhere. With only three fulltime residents on the three mile long Pentoga Road, it doesn’t rank very high on the priority list for clearing.  

So with that being said and no way to upload today’s blog, I’m heading out the door to begin cleaning the drive. It’s going to be a challenge as the snow is so heavy the snow blower won’t throw it and the four wheeler will be sliding all over the place trying to push it.

Time to get plowing.

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

So are the tales from Pentoga Road…

November 26, 2019 - Tuesday morning

39 degrees/cloudy/calm winds

Pentoga Road

At the risk of sounding like a broken record, it appears the storm is on its way. The winter storm watch has been upgraded to a warning with 8 to 16 inches expected along with forty mph winds.

Most of Monday was spent in preparation for the first major storm of the winter. I decided to take advantage of the warm day and first go for a walk.

Downtown Pentoga Village

The sun was bright, the temperature warm, and it was purely a privilege to be outside.

Frozen apples that have yet to fall from the tree

The rest of the day was spent in preparation of the storm. I used ratchet straps to secure one side of the portable garage to the other.

The straps will keep the roof, possibly heavy with snow, from spreading the supports apart, resulting in an eventual collapse.



I'll brush the roof free from any permanent snow, but if it's wet, heavy, and comes down inches per hour, the straps should help keep everything in place.

I wasn't the only one busy outside. Sargie spent time carrying in firewood. The wood box is now full to overflowing. 

The last chore of the day was to mount the snow plow onto the four wheeler. The snowblower was also run for a minute to ensure its reliability and the snow shovels made ready. 

Let 'er snow.

Sargie works at the eye clinic today. I'm going for a walk first thing, then head plan to spend the rest of the day in the shop.

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

So are the tales from Pentoga Road...