Cucumber salad anyone?

August 23, 2020 - Sunday morning

58 degrees/sunny/calm winds

Pentoga Road

I almost didn't write this morning as today's entry could be summarized in one word, RAIN.

For the love of God, would someone, anyone, please turn off the tap? With another .8 of an inch falling yesterday, our yard and meadows have turned into one giant sponge. It wouldn't take too much more precipitation for Lake Pentoga to make an ugly appearance.

Yooper Brother Mark drove out yesterday morning and we walked four miles together. Mark's so busy with the plant and running for County Commissioner that we've not had any brotherly time this summer to speak of. It was good to catch up on life.

So what's with the big cucumber you ask? Doesn't everyone wait with baited breath for a big cucumber story?

I purposely let this one grow large so I could harvest the seeds. Advertised as a seedless variety, Sweet Success has been a real performer for us year after year. With seeds costing almost fifty cents each, I knew they'd form in an overly mature fruit and I'd be able to harvest them. 

Just one problem.

It's been a few years since I've studied plant genetics of any kind. I forgot that Sweet Success was an F1 hybrid, the complete cross of two separate varieties. Doing so makes for a seedless first generation, but the seeds from that union usually don't hold true. In other words, it's possible that in planting them next season, I might have one plant that produces a fruit with no seeds while another could produce a small, very seedy, cucumber.

I'll not use the seeds from yesterday's harvest. I'd rather pay $5 for ten seeds and have a guaranteed variety than take the chance of ending up with junk. After all, Sargie and I do love our cucumbers.

So what does one do with a huge cuke that's been hollowed out? The meat was firm and juicy.

I'd noticed Sargie was busy in the kitchen late in the afternoon. She was making chicken salad, complete with the several vine ripened tomatoes from the garden, and stuffing both halves of the cucumber.

To say it was to-die-for good would be a vast understatement. 

After driving to town to run a few errands, we returned home where I spent much of the afternoon in the shop.

I started to fashion a cup from a small piece of driftwood I'd plucked from the beach at Redridge.

Though it felt dry on the surface, I found it damp in the middle, so after shaping the piece, I set it aside to thoroughly dry. Only time will tell if it will remain free of cracks.

The rest of my time was spent on a hickory plate I've been fashioning for sometime. Other than spiffing up the bottom and applying food safe finish, it should be finished in the near future.

My young buddy, Kyle, a woodworker who makes the interior finishings of cable cars, gave me a couple of pieces of scrap mahogany that had been destined for the wood stove. I'm going to attempt to make a matching bowl, plate, cup, and saucer, from those. It's what old, retired, grandpas do in the UP when the temperatures are cold and the snow is deep.

Time to get this uploaded and go for my morning hike. My destination today is the same as yesterday, to walk around "the barn," Tim and Rose's home and make sure it didn't float away during the recent rainfall.

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

So are the tales from Pentoga Road...