Nothing more satisfying than netting a goldfish after an afternoon of trying.

July 30, 2020 - Thursday evening

62 degrees/clear skies/calm winds

Pentoga Road

There's not much in the way of Pentoga Road news. It's quiet around here this evening with Hambone gone, so I thought I'd go ahead and write.

After two full afternoons of effort, Hambone finally netted a goldfish. He found that by keeping the net still, he had a better chance of getting one by letting it swim into the net rather than attempting to swipe at it.

The goldfish was proudly shown to Grandma Sargie and Pawpaw, then released back into the wilds of the garden pond. It swam away no worse for the wear.

Today has been frustrating. I had one blank blow apart on the lathe yesterday. Working with a different piece this morning, it too blew apart.

I set a hickory blank in a bag of shavings to "age" last year and thought I'd turn a bowl from that. 

I worked for over two hours fashioning a bowl from the blank. The grain was beautiful and I was satisfied with the way it looked, until... 

Despite the fact that the wood had been properly prepared, two cracks were discovered just as I was preparing to apply the first coat of finish.

Mama would have washed my mouth out with soap had she been present. It was just one of those days when I should have stayed away from the shop. Everything I touched fell apart, with or without my assistance.

Sargie was busy today doing one thing or the other. She enjoyed watching Hambone swim and splash around in the pond this afternoon.

We did the Hambone exchange late this afternoon. Back home, Sargie mowed the immediate lawn and finished just before dark.

Sargie's heading to Milligan Mountain Friday to help set up for Nikki's wedding shower. 

Larry the Heavy Equipment Guy is bringing a dump truck load of top soil along with his skid steer in the morning. Hopefully, we'll be planting grass seed in the area between the road and garden over the next few days.

Not very exciting news, eh? Ah, heck, it wasn't that bad of a day. Hambone caught a goldfish, didn't he?

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

So are the tales from Pentoga Road...

Grandma Sargie is watching Hambone swim on Wednesday afternoon

July 30, 2020 - Thursday morning

46 degrees/clear skies/calm winds

Pentoga Road

With summer beginning to wane, much cooler nights are becoming the norm in the UP. Also noticeable are the shorter days. We're at the threshold of my favorite time of the year, though Sargie will tell you different.

One or two of the area trees are already showing a hint of red and orange.

Sargie's a spring-going-into-summer type of gal. I  love late summer and fall. As usual, we're complete opposites. I guess that's why God made sure we found each other. The pieces of our individual puzzles fit exactly into place with each other.

Perfect. 

Arriving home from my early morning walk on Wednesday, I literally opened a hornets nest, a good sized one at that.

While removing the tarp that was covering the wood splitter, I heard a buzzing that sounded more like the low roar of a jet engine just before take off.

The first hornet hit me. Then a second. It only took two stings before realizing the end result wasn't going to be pretty. 

There's one positive thing that I discovered while being assaulted. These old skinny legs of mine can still run a hundred yard dash under ten seconds. 

So that's the way they wanted to play, eh? Armed with a can of wasp/hornet spray, a garden sprayer of ammonia, and a garden rake with which to remove the nest, I looked the beast square in the eyes and waded in.

It was touch and go for several minutes. They'd swing and I'd duck, feint to the left or right, then go in for yet another spray. The ammonia mist in the air kept them at bay and seemed to confuse their flying front line storm troopers. 



Almost half an hour passed before I could claim victory over the angry hoard. Wednesday was V Day. Pentoga Road was once again ours.

While the stray, surviving, hornets were busy finding somewhere else to live, I made my way to the garden house and applied another coat of tung oil to the Dutch doors. I'd earlier added triangles for support under the shelf and a stop (a thin narrow board) to prohibit the top door from swinging too far out and ruining the hinges. Though made from pine, once covered with tung oil, they matched perfectly with the cedar.

It was breakfast time. After filling our bellies with cereal, eggs, and ham, Hambone, Grandma Sargie, and I, began working up the trailer filled with wood. 

Dressed in one of my old t shirts and wearing a pair of my work gloves complete with my Packers hat perched on top of his head, Mini Me got busy either pitching wood into the shed or being "button boy" when helping to operate the wood splitter.

Also wearing one of my old t shirts, Grandma Sargie was a tornado of activity, pitching and carrying wood from the trailer.

Look at the muscles on that gal. No wonder I tread lightly around Sargie. 

Should anyone think that my bride or I never change shirts from one day to the next, the majority of my summertime work shirts are gray. Often stained with paint or oil, all begin the day clean, but have a similar well-used look about them.

Busy elsewhere, upon my return, I found that Sargie and Hambone had commandeered the splitter. Who needed me? They worked together like a well oil machine.

The trailer finally emptied, we made a leisurely drive to town to leave it at Yooper Brother Mark's plant for what could be the last load of fire wood of the season.

Poor Grady. He wants a hummingbird to land on him so badly. The boy stood outside holding the feeder for several minutes while trying to make friends with one or more.

Several buzzed around, but none actually landed.

Sargie made a last minute mention that it would be nice to take a couple of bowls made in the shop to Nikki's wedding shower on Saturday as gifts in a drawing for those attending. 

Sargie's nephew and godson, Taylor, and his fiance', Nikki, will be getting married next month. The shower will be held at Nancy and Ron's, high atop Milligan Mountain.

The last minute request for bowls meant that I needed to get to the shop and fast.

The first birch blank blew apart in the lathe.

Back to the drawing board.

There's been an aged piece of spalted maple in the shop for over a year, almost two. How about making a goblet?

The limb was rough at first, but gradually began to take shape.



The goblet was roughed out by late afternoon. 



I heard my name being called. 

Ah, yes. 

Though he and Grandma Sargie had been at the pond for much of the afternoon, Hambone hadn't forgotten my hastily made promise to go swimming with him.

With a butterfly net in hand, Hambone was determined to catch a goldfish... or at least Frank the Frog. He never caught either but had fun trying.

So he wanted Pawpaw, eh?

Watch out what you wish for. He got him!

Hambone played Granado (his version of a tornado) and sucked me into his vortex as he spun round and round.

We also played Pawpaw the Shark. Realistic in every way, you can see my fin sticking above the water just prior to the attack on poor, innocent, unsuspecting, Grady.

Needless to say, three tired people fell into their beds last night and all slept very well.

I think Grandma Sargie's going to mow today. I'll be in the shop at least part of the day working on the goblet or bowls. 

Hambone? No doubt he'll be pounding nails, working on his squirrel trap or traipsing around the yard in search of the excitement that only a six year old boy can find. We'll be meeting Mel and Macrea later this afternoon for the Hambone exchange. 

Time to go for my morning stroll. I think it'll be a nine mile day.

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

So are the tales from Pentoga Road...

Covering the trellis and overhead pergola, the tiny stick Jambo gave me as a grape vine two years ago has gone forth and become fruitful (no pun intended.)

It doesn't get any better than feeding the goldfish

July 29, 2020 - Wednesday morning

54 degrees/clear skies/calm winds

Pentoga Road

Whew, I'm running a day late and a dollar short this morning. Had Mother Nature not been pushing on my bladder earlier, I'd probably still be lying in bed. 

Sargie and I sleep with the window open in all but the very coldest months with the fan blowing the cooler nighttime air into our bedroom. Lying under a comforter and pretzeled up with Sargie, it took some real effort to get out of the sack this morning.

Tuesday was a busy one on Pentoga Road. After my morning walk, I returned home just in time to enjoy breakfast with Hambone and Grandma Sargie. One of Hambone's favorite food groups is cantaloupe.

I'd like to tell you I grew the ones above, but that would be a lie. We've found the quality of melons to be outstanding this summer. 

I walked up Jambo's lane to look at the latch on his inside porch door. He gave me a duck head he'd carved and the makings of a latch so I could install one just like his on the door of the garden house.

The concept is simple, but as you know, the Dutch doors aren't just doors, they are works of art. Cutting holes in one is like daVinci asking someone off the street to add a brush stroke or two to the Mona Lisa.

I'm not going to do it without some serious supervision and will wait until Jambo's back down to his camp and ask for his assistance. There's no way in God's green earth that I'm going to chance ruining what I consider the centerpiece of the garden house, the Dutch doors he made as a gift for me.

Grandma Sargie and Hambone were busy throughout the day. Grandma finished painting the garage service door while Hambone worked on his newest creation, a squirrel trap.

If the t shirt and ear protectors are good enough for Pawpaw, then they are good enough for Hambone. I dare you to try taking either away from him.

The boy loves to clean and sweep the shop. The shop vac? Who needs a broom? That's like going from a cheap Chevy to driving a Mercedes. 

We took a break later in the day to pick up the trailer from Yooper Brother Mark's plant.

Mark claims he's going to make a sign from that slab of wood. I'm afraid to see what it will say.

The old Blazer creaked and groaned pulling the trailer home, but we made it in good shape. This load, plus another, should see this coming winter's wood supply complete.

Sargie and Hambone migrated to the garden house where they applied a second coat of paint to the front. It's a quick job with the hardest part being that of not painting too close to the trim. It's a quick second coat.

I began taking the larger pieces of wood out of the garden house and stacking them in the red shed. Thank goodness, I had someone to steady the large, heavy, load on the wagon as I pulled it uphill.

That's okay. It won't be too many more years before you'll see Hambone pulling the wagon with Pawpaw as the passenger.

While stacking the wood, I noticed the roof had been leaking on the red shed. Upon closer inspection, I saw where a limb had crashed down from an overhead tree and poked a hole in the shingles.

Probably happening under the weight of last winter's heavy snow, the hole was significant. I patched it last night, but the damage done will require some major repair sometime in the future and eventually, a new partial roof, wood and shingles, both.

One thing I'll say about Hambone, the boy has patience. He stood under the hummingbird feeder last night for over fifteen minutes with a hand outstretched, hoping one of our flying piggies would land and pay him a visit. It didn't happen, but he says he'll keep on trying.



I'm going to head out the door fairly soon for my walk. On today's agenda? I'll give you a hint. Just look above at that trailer filled with wood. I hope to see it empty by day's end.

Calandula flowers framed by two onion blooms
Pumpkins on the left, peas on the right

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

So are the tales from Pentoga Road...

Seems I have a chipmunk grazing out in the garden

July 28, 2020 - Tuesday morning

58 degrees/clear skies/calm winds

Pentoga Road

I enjoy watching Hambone cram blueberries and peas into his mouth by the handful. It reminds me of the days, almost forty years ago, when the Pennington boys used to invade the garden and indiscriminately graze from one row to the other. 

I particularly remember Josh who loved raw sweetcorn. I told him he could eat all he wanted as long as none went to waste. The boy would take a break from his activities and stand between the rows, chomping on a good old fashioned ear of corn. 

It was a race between my oldest son and the raccoons to see which could clean out a corn patch the fastest.

All the boys loved melons and raw green beans were favored.

Grady loves his peas and blueberries. I noticed he was snacking on a carrot last night as well.

Self seeding, the calendula flowers are in full bloom in the garden

I had an uneventful walk Monday morning. With the humidity and temperature back to normal, it was most enjoyable, especially after trudging through a heavy downpour the day before.

Bee hives in a nearby field
I wonder how long they'll remain untouched before a bear discovers them?

I wore my new hiking shoes yesterday and started the process of breaking them in. I hadn't planned to touch them until next summer, but I found my regular hikers were still soaked.

I set the wet shoes out in the sun and wind yesterday and though stiff, they're finally dry and I'll resume wearing them today.

I think there are still a couple of hundred miles left before they're completely worn out

I've been asked what brand of hiking shoes I wear. I alternate between Merrell's and Keen's. Merrell's seem to be a bit better on harder, even, surfaces. Keen's are more of a four wheel drive type with a bit better traction for tough trail conditions. The shoes above are Merrell's with Keen insoles. 

Monday was a busy one. Sargie's busy painting the the screen door from the kitchen to the garage as well as the service door.

The girl is unstoppable, but as much as I complain, I'm tickled at how our home is looking. My bride has the touch and taste as well as the tenacity to complete some of these projects that I should have done long ago before she retired.

Well, let's be honest. I have the tenacity, but am sorely lacking the touch and taste. It's probably better that she's doing them.

Reattaching the screen door after removing it to paint and for repair

Sargie kept me busy Monday repairing the outside service door to the garage.

I'm not at all certain what the previous owner was thinking, but he'd completely sealed the door to the frame, caulked it tight, and using staples and glue, covered the bottom with some sort of aluminum sheeting.

It took most the day, but the original door was finally uncovered, sanded, fixed, and ready for Sargie's paintbrush.

The garage floor heaves each spring, often causing the door to jam and become unusable. This past spring, I pared over an inch from the bottom. That worked well for the door, but also allowed small critters to run in and out of the garage at will.

Sargie suggested I use a piece of leftover pond liner fastened to the bottom to block the gap that allows the door to open, regardless of the time of year.

I measured and cut and the liner will be affixed as soon as she's finished painting.

And so the day went. I moved the stoop to the garden house and it seems to fit very nicely. At least no one should break their leg entering or exiting.

Part of the afternoon was spent either painting trim around the garage or patching small cracks in the drive. I hope to seal the pavement in the next week or two and get that job over for the year.

It was late afternoon when we made the Hambone exchange at the ice cream shop in Florence (halfway between Iron Mountain and Pentoga Road.) Between licks of goodness, we caught up on the news from Mel, Macrea, and Grady.

Perhaps the biggest news that I'm now allowed to share is that Grady will be a big brother come next February. 

Mel and Macrea have also announced they'll be getting married next July and are busy making plans for a large celebration in Escanaba at a popular resort. 

It appears there'll be a lot of excitement in Grady's life in the year to come.

We've suddenly become infected with a hoard of hummingbirds, millions, possibly trillions, or perhaps, fifteen or twenty of the little flying piggies. I filled the feeder twice yesterday and it appears I'll be doing the same or more today.

All exaggerations aside, their numbers seem to be multiplying daily.

I'm hoping these are local birds that hatched earlier this summer. If not, could they already be gathering for the fall migration? That would mean an early winter. Let's hope they are Pentoga Road hummers and we still have a couple of months of summer left.

Last evening was a quiet one. Hambone earned some computer time, so he alternated between watching tv and playing a game.

 Grandma Sargie and I were content to talk and stare at the tv. It was our kind of evening.

I'm heading out the door pretty quickly for my morning stroll. What's on today's agenda?

Since Hambone LOVES to paint, Grandma Sargie said there are a few places on the garden house that could use a second coat. I think it looks fine, but she insists, so I guess we'll slap another coat on the sides. 



The trailer is sitting at Yooper Brother Mark's plant filled with firewood and no doubt, we'll be working that up in the next day or two. I have four wooden names to make in the shop and as soon as Sargie's finished painting, the service door to the garage needs to be hung.

Life's about priorities, so we'll take them as they come.

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

So are the tales from Pentoga Road...