January 13, 2020 - Monday morning

14 degrees/cloudy (I think)/calm winds

Pentoga Road

It's another quick one this morning as I'll soon be departing for Florence Elementary for two days of teaching first grade. I haven't seen the little bitty munchkins for a while, so I'm looking forward to spending a couple of days with the nine, six year-old, bobkitties.

It's a dream class. There are only nine of them and for some strange reason, there's not a knucklehead in the bunch. They are happy, well mannered, ALWAYS remember their yes pleases's and no thank you's, and are huggers. 

They're a bunch where I can be a grandpa and still teach. Doesn't get any better than that.

Sargie's sick. The girl began with a headache Saturday night and progressively got worse on Sunday. She's full of congestion and spent most of Sunday in her recliner covered with a blanket pulled right up to her chin. Yooper Brother Mark suggested yesterday afternoon that I fix her some chicken soup, so I did just that. She said it tasted good, so maybe she'll sip more today and continue to get more rest. 

Poor thing. She looked like a little girl last night who wasn't feeling well. Her skin was pasty, her eyes droopy, her breathing difficult and rattly, and I'd be willing to guess that somewhere inside that grandma, there was a little girl saying, "I want my Mama." 

There are some things only a mama can make feel better. A sick body is one of them.

While Sargie was sleeping, I took off out the door and had a wonderful seven mile hike.

The thermometer was showing two above zero when I left the house and the sun was shining brightly. The woods and fields looked like calendar pictures. Just beautiful.

I came across a set of wolf tracks, actually tracks from two wolves, I'm guessing from a large male and a smaller female or yearling.



It was obvious they were hunting, exploring every nook and cranny, after which the male marked his territory. Sometime later, back on Pentoga Road, I came across this, the remnants of a successful hunt.



The young deer didn't have a chance. 

It felt good trekking through the countryside and rather than feeling tired, I felt more invigorated by the time I arrived back home. It was one of those kind of hiking days.



Speaking of hiking, I'm officially a part of the Appalachian Trail Class of 2022 in trailjournals.com, by far, the oldest hiker enrolled. I've yet to post anything, but will in the coming weeks. As February 27th, 2022, draws closer, I'll be making more entries there, all concerning hiking, equipment, etc. 

Early? Yep, but as the saying goes, "Half the fun of going is getting there." 

As of now, I'm planning on FINALLY writing that book, not about Alaska, but hopefully one about a crazy 70 year old man who is bound and determined to try to hike 2,189 miles in one, long, six month, effort. We'll see.

We watched the Packers eek out another ugly victory over Seattle last night. The boys played one half of tremendous football, but decided they were tired during the second half, yet held on to win. We play for the NFC Championship next Sunday night in San Francisco.

I'll be leaving for Florence in a little bit. Sargie's tucked away in bed and hopefully, will stay there most of the day. We got a bit of snow during the night, so I'll be out moving that later this afternoon when I get home.

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

So are the tales from Pentoga Road...