Why I walk every morning
God lives in those woods

August 25, 2020 - Tuesday morning

54 degrees/clear skies/calm winds

Pentoga Road

I can't believe that it's been over twenty four hours since the last drop of rain fell. Just as importantly, the humidity finally dropped to a more normal level. 

Life is good on Pentoga Road.

Monday's walk was a beautiful one. It seems the woods are going through one last growth spurt before the brakes of fall are applied. 

I came across a doe that insisted we become friends. I'd take a step towards her and she'd do the same. We repeated that dance for over twenty feet.

We were almost ready to touch hand to nose when she decided she'd had enough and bolted off across the road.

I assume there was a fawn nearby and she was distracting me away from a little one under the guise of friendship.

Back home, Hambone and I played a cutthroat game of war using nerf guns. We ran around the perimeter of the house, between the cars, and through the bushes, and in the end, I was shot eighty or a hundred times. 

I'm certain the more sensitive people of the world would think shooting at each other with foam darts is offensive, but in our world, we call it good, old fashioned, belly-laugh, fun. 

Sargie and Hambone finished cleaning the garage yesterday while I mowed. One thing I'll say about Grady, he's a real worker. 

No one's going to call that boy lazy. 

Sargie had him scrubbing and spraying out the coolers, baskets, and any other container.

All work and no play is no fun. In the end, water from the hose filled his vinyl gloves and with Grandma Sargie's help, made each into a water balloon. 

I mowed the yard around the house and garden and later, used the push mower to trim. After, I helped finish the garage so we could all go fishing.

Fishing?!? 

Uh huh. Hambone had been working so hard that I'd promised him we'd go fishing. Unfortunately, the wind was blowing, so we were confined to the dock, but that was okay.

First we had to dig worms. No bait/no fish. Grady looked at it as a treasure hunt and grew more and more excited with each worm that was uncovered.

The following pictures are of pure innocence and beauty, that of a little boy going fishing.

Getting his first lesson how to put on a worm

Hambone learned how to cast

Not to be outdone, Grandma Sargie got in on the action

 The young fisherman caught way too many small bass to count and FINALLY, landed one keeper bluegill. 

I know the boy's a true fisherman as he later described his catch as a monster. No doubt, the bluegill will continue to grow in the coming years.

The fish was brought home and cleaned. In fact,  Hambone says he's going to eat his first keeper for breakfast later this morning.

Today's Grady's last day of summer vacation. His first day of class is tomorrow. I sorely miss the other eleven grandchildren and feel badly that I'm not an active part of their lives. I'm grateful to Hambone that he helps to fill in those empty gaps caused by the long miles that separate all of us.

It's time to head out the door for my morning walk. The garden gate and hand rails to the deck need to be scraped and painted. I think I'll bite the bullet and get those out of the way today.

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

So are the tales from Pentoga Road...