Don't worry, we left a few items on the shelves in Green Bay

September 1, 2020 - Tuesday morning

44 degrees/clear skies/calm winds

Pentoga Road

I just came in from outside and noticed how the air has taken on an entirely new feel. The humidity is very low and it smells like fresh laundry after being hung out to dry on the clothes line.

I was out by the woodshed and heard a crashing almost under my feet. Taking a step back, all that could be seen in the predawn darkness was a white flag bobbing up and down followed by one even smaller. An almost invisible pair, a doe and fawn had been grazing just a inches from where I stood and not able to stand still any longer, made a hasty escape.

Our road trip to Green Bay yesterday was productive. Sargie and I, as always, be-bopped down the road, requesting songs of yesteryear from Amazon Alexa, dancing and singing our way into Title Town. The chanson du jour seemed to be Meatloaf's Paradise by the Dashboard Lights. 

It's such a silly song about two seventeen year old kids out parking. She's the responsible one. He is driven by rampaging hormones. She wants a commitment of love forever, something that is completely incomprehensible and foreign to the lust crazed boy. 

If you could see our streaming song list, you'd quickly come to understand that Sargie and I are all class and only listen to serious, deep, meaningful, songs while on our road trips. 

My bride indulged me yesterday as I took a trip down memory lane, back to my university days.

Other than play in my band on a regular basis, I freelanced as a union musician to any other musical group that needed an upright bass, tuba, trombone, or piano player. At the time, several central Illinois venues played host to the big bands of the 30's and 40's. 

We listened to Russ Morgan's Does Your Heart Beat for Me. If you know of the song, you must be either a music buff or well into your golden years. Actually, as an eighteen year old, I played with the Russ Morgan Orchestra on stage in the Grand Ballroom at the Pere Marquette Hotel in Peoria, Illinois. Mr. Morgan had recently passed away and his son had taken over as leader. Mr. Morgan also composed You're Nobody till Somebody Loves You, a song I also played while reading the original hand written manuscript.

The next year found me playing bass with Vaughn Monroe's orchestra (Ghost Riders in the Sky) at the Hub Ballroom in Edelstein, Illinois. 

I was part of a musical trio (piano, bass, and drums) that backed up the Mills Brothers who made Down by the Old Mill Stream a well known favorite way back when.

Thanks for allowing the memories to flow yesterday, Sargie. My poor bride must have been bored to tears as I crooned along with the golden oldies, some over a hundred years old. She also endured stories of the various orchestras of which I was privileged to be a part of, back when musicians still read music, counted exact rhythms, and played horns and stringed instruments, not self syncing electronic computerized gismos.

Meanwhile, let's move the clock forward fifty years:

We did manage to leave a few goodies for others in stores like Costco, Sam's, and Aldies, to name a few. Walmart was a zoo and now that Sargie no longer has any connection to the Vision Center, will say it's my least favorite place to shop. Unfortunately, it's the only game in town for many items.

It was raining in the UP during our sojourn to the south. Thankfully, yesterday's total could be measured in tenths and not inches or feet. Even with a smaller amount, we're about ready to float away.

   

We'd like to have the lawn and meadows groomed nicely for Sunday's Milligan gathering, but in many areas, the tires on Sargie's riding mower would have to be replaced with pontoons for that to happen. Rain is not forecast to fall again until Sunday (naturally) so maybe the ground will dry enough to enable us to mow.

Sargie and I drove home through some horrible rain and at one point, spotted some particularly ugly clouds to the northeast.

We later learned that a tornado had touched down in Escanaba that lay in that general direction.

Back on Pentoga Road, many a trip was made from the car to the house to unload our treasures. 

Later, while Sargie was talking on the phone, I left some fruit and vegetable goodies at Neighbor Sue's before enjoying a quick four mile roundtrip hike to The Barn. 

My ultra lightweight tent stakes arrived in yesterday's mail. Rather than spend a large sum of nonexistent cash all at once in preparation for my AT hike in a year and a half, I'm trying to spread out my purchases and buy a bit of what will be needed beforehand. 

One thing about it, equipment for lightweight backpacking isn't cheap. Even with careful shopping, I'm forced to spend more money than I care to in order to keep my total pack weight under fifteen pounds and still be comfortable.

Composed of titanium, each stake is weighed in grams rather than ounces. The blue anchor-like gismos are for staking a tent to a wooden platform. The anchors fit between the slats so a corner of the tent can be secured. 

There's the sun. Time to go for my walk. On today's agenda is... CLEANING THE BARN. Actually, it's not horrible, just messy. There's a large pile of stuff on one side that is bound for the dump tomorrow, but otherwise, things just need to be put away. 

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

So are the tales from Pentoga Road...

Taken several years ago
Yeah, that would be the other side of the Pennington family that owns the seed company.