If this ain't the truth!

Aunt Joanne sent this cartoon that best describes what this afternoon's activities will be in preparation for Thanksgiving.

November 25, 2020 - Wednesday morning

33 degrees/cloudy/calm winds

Pentoga Road

Boy oh boy, Aunt Joanne nailed that one on the head. After planting, weeding, raising, and harvesting a Thanksgiving's worth of rutabagas, today is when the knife meets the root. Sargie and I will be working up a dinner's worth of "baggies" later this afternoon in preparation of tomorrow's meal.

Tuesday's trek went well and with the road sanded, walking was much easier going up and down the hills. Since it snowed a couple of inches last night, today's stroll could be a different story.

Back home, Sargie and I enjoyed a great breakfast that included our daily faire, fried carrots.

We're in mourning as our white carrots are about to run out for the year. Yooper Brother Mark and Sheri introduced us to fried carrots and we've been hooked ever since. These late ones are so sugary sweet that it's like eating a stick of candy.

I built a fire in the outside wood furnace before Sargie and I took a late morning drive. She needed to stop by the post office for stamps before making our way onto McDonalds for her Coke.

The ice on the area lakes is slowly creeping across and all it would take is one or two really cold nights and there'd be enough ice to go fishing.

With the shop warmed to room temperature, I finished the mahogany dough bowl. Coated with food safe finish, it's ready to go.

The inside carving marks were purposely left. I notice that almost all dough bowls featured in the catalogues are the same to make people think they are made from wood, each individually by hand. Since this one was, leaving the marks was easy.

I hadn't published the following segmented piece that I finished a week ago. It was different than anything I'd ever made and I really enjoyed sawing, painting, and putting it all together.

Since I taught music for a year or two in my former life, making it allowed me to take a long trip down memory lane.

Talking about memory lane, Eileen sent a few pictures of her son and my former student, Andrew, currently living in Fairbanks, Alaska, who took a few photos while playing out in the bush this past weekend. I have hundreds, more like thousands, of photos exactly like these, including many of the Tundra snowmobile that was used for many years on my travels throughout the arctic circle.

Now almost forty years old, Andrew was one of my star trumpet players from sixth grade through high school when I taught in northern Maine. We took a guides course together while he was still in high school and riding back and forth together, we got to know each other personally. I was in the arctic when he transferred from the University of Maine to the University of Alaska - Fairbanks, where he eventually earned his PhD.

Beautiful, eh? I don't mind admitting that there's just a touch of jealousy and homesickness running through my veins right now. Alaska's not for everyone, but for those who love it, once one leaves, the longing to return never goes away.

Sargie worked on her Christmas cards last evening and I think she may have finished them. Though the practice of sending and receiving Christmas cards seems to be fading, the tradition is alive and well with my Sargie.

What could be more "Christmasy" while writing out Christmas cards? Snuggled in, wrapped in a blanket, sitting by the wood fire, snow gently falling outside...

Today's going to be a busy one. There's still one bowl and two puzzles to make in the shop before I can begin to relax. That doesn't include two presents that I'm not certain what they'll be. We may have to make a flying trip to Iron Mountain somewhere along the way, then there's that wagon filled with rutabagas to work up for the Mighty Milligan Thanksgiving feast. If only you had my life, you'd understand.

It'll soon be daylight. Time to go for my walk.

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

So are the tales from Pentoga Road...