The bridge over the River Brule

The nearest side is Michigan, the far side Wisconsin

December 3, 2020 - Wednesday morning

30 degrees/clear skies/breezy

Pentoga Road

Not much time as Sargie and I have appointments in Iron Mountain at 9 this morning. Of all days, I slept later than usual. Grrr.

Tuesday was a busy one. I had a gorgeous walk to Wisconsin (just on the other side of Pentoga) and back.

The temperature was in the upper teens and hoarfrost covered everything making it look magical, almost like a scene from a childhood story book.

The lack of snow shouldn't lull us into thinking winter is too far away. I noticed slush and ice racing along in the river's current. It's a matter of time before a solid sheet of ice forms, tucking the Mighty Brule in for the long winter ahead.

Back home, I resumed work in the shop. First things first. I needed to change a carbide tip on the chisel that Mississippi Brother Garry had given me last spring.

Rather than using an aluminum oxide wheel to keep a razor edge on the tool, the carbide tip can be changed in a matter of minutes.

Work continued at the lathe. It's coming, although I seem to be having more than my share of difficulties lately. I suspect that I need to slow 'er WAY down, turn a shallower bowl or two to regain my confidence, and remember that I'm standing at the lathe because I enjoy it, not with a specific goal and time period in mind. This happened last year while I was under the gun making presents.

I'll hit restart today, take a big breath, and continue on.

I finished the scroll saw piece I've been working on. Another one's ready to go!

My eyes and patience gave out by mid afternoon. I think Sargie was beginning to get a bit of cabin fever and I didn't want to stay inside on such a nice day. 

What to do?

Why not cut down a dead ash tree and make firewood!

Often together, Sargie and I have developed a well oiled and coordinated method of working up firewood. I cut the tree into chunks while she loads it onto the four wheeler. We later take the branches and bark to the burn pile.

Last night was another one spent in front of the tv. For receiving hundreds of channels, we tend to watch the same six or eight shows, even reruns. 

What's next, Hallmark Christmas movies? (Ooh, my involuntary gag reflex just reared its ugly head.)

Time to move along and get this day started. I'll take my walk when we arrive back home then spend this afternoon collecting deer poop to put on the garden. Literally, piles of it are lying everywhere and it makes a great fertilizer. 

Now you know my secret... deer poop. I used moose poop while attempting to grow a garden on a sand bar in the arctic, but have found deer droppings work much better, plus, moose are scarce in this particular area.

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

So are the tales from Pentoga Road...

I'm teaching Jimmy to get his own sunflower seed from my pocket, saving me the time and effort of having to pause, remove a glove, and get one out for him.