Happy Birthday, Sargie!

December 13, 2019 - Friday morning

22 degrees/cloudy/calm winds

Pentoga Road

Oh yes, it's a special day on Pentoga Road, it's Sargie's birthday.

I've never been one to think much of birthdays other than just another day of the week, but to my bride, to celebrate the date of one's birth is to celebrate life. For Sargie, it's not just about cake and ice cream or a present or two, but rather, it's an opportunity to remember the years gone by and look forward to those ahead. 

I'm horrible about remembering birthdays. I regularly forget those of my grandchildren and have even been known to forget my own. Sargie, on the other hand, can probably tell you the birth date of every Milligan and in law since the beginning of time. She doesn't just send a card with a dollar scratch-off lottery ticket included, she truly thinks about each, talks about that person, relives a memory or two of good times, and spiritually wishes whoever it is the best that life can offer.

I don't know how many times a month Sargie picks up the phone early on any given morning to call a local radio station to wish a relative or friend happy birthday. She seldom misses one.

Who does that? 

My Sargie does.

When my bride wishes someone a happy birthday, they aren't just words haphazardly pouring from her mouth, they're sincere feelings coming from her soul. 

That's who she is, genuine and sincere.

So today, is my Sargie's special day. We'll laugh and celebrate and do whatever it is she wants to do. 

From my soul to your's, happy birthday, Sargie. I love you. 

Well, unless you want to hear about snow, you're in a bad way. Close to another foot dropped on Pentoga Road and the surrounding area on Thursday.

Not wanting Sargie to drive, I cranked up the old Blazer, locked it into four wheel drive, and took her to work at the eye clinic.

The back roads were slippery and deep with snow. Visibility was almost nil at times and made for, ahem, more interesting driving.

While sliding around the areas roads, I ran a few errands and stopped to see Yooper Brother Mark and Ann. It's been sometime since I had visited the plant and it was good to see both and catch up on any news. 

Of course, Mark and I talk bright and early, usually well before 6 AM, every morning, so I am able to supervise him from afar.

Back home, I began clearing the deck, drive, and Jambo's lane.

Thankfully, the snow was light and fluffy which made plowing much easier. 

I must have moved six to eight inches. Unfortunately, snow continued for the next several hours and presently, there're another six inches to plow this morning.

Talk about stupid. I think Mama's little guy ain't very bright at times.

I'd noticed the hole in the pond where the water circulates was almost closed. Wanting to save Hambone's seventeen cent goldfish from oxygen deprivation, I decided to chisel the opening a bit bigger. What I didn't want to do was break through the ice while doing so.

Thankfully, only one leg went swimming into three feet of water, but it was enough to fill my boot with cold water and certainly got my attention. 

I haven't gone through the ice since my Alaska days when I was completely submerged. Thankfully, I had ice picks hanging around my neck and was able to find the hole and crawl back onto more solid ice.

I also went through thin ice when I was in college. Testing the thickness on the lake where Mom and Dad lived and wanting to go ice fishing, Dad insisted he tie a rope around my waist before I ventured off the end of their dock.

No rope was to be found, but Dad emerged from the garage with a twenty five foot extension cord which he tied around my midsection.

I had a spud, a chisel, and was gingerly walking out on the ice when I turned around to tell Dad I thought it was thick enough. About that time, it let go and I was plunged into ten feet of water.

Adrenaline is a good thing. I remember going down until my feet hit the sand bottom, then shoving off and popping up into the hole. Dad yanked me onto the ice using the extension cord and I was back in the house, peeling off my clothes, in a matter of minutes.

Thankfully, yesterday's stupidity only resulted in a wet leg and a boot filled with water. Oh, yeah, and a badly injured ego.

Cold and shivering, I peeled off my clothes and stood in the hot shower. After, I sat, covered with a blanket in Sargie's chair by the wood stove and might have closed my eyes a bit. 

I never did make it out to the shop.

I picked up Sargie from work last night after which we drove around a bit looking at Christmas lights.



It's something we enjoy doing this time of year.

Last night was quiet and warm and nice. Ah, wintertime in the UP... a good fire going, a full belly, and the best company. 

I'd write more, but I have a birthday cake to bake and a drive filled with snow. After? It's Sargie's special day, we'll do what she wants to do.

Tonight will see us at Mel and Macrea's in Iron Mountain celebrating Sargie's and Ashley's birthdays. Hambone will be coming home with us after. 

I can see plenty of snow forts and snowmobile rides on the agenda for this weekend.

I was up and down the extension ladder several times yesterday cleaning the snow from the internet and television satellite dishes. It doesn't take much to interrupt service.

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

So are the tales from Pentoga Road...