Ivy's not letting northern Maine's scant snowfall keep her from enjoying Daddy's Skidoo. Andy said he pulled her around the yard on a toboggan for over two hours Tuesday.

January 13, 2021 - Wednesday

21 degrees/partly cloudy/calm winds

Pentoga Road

I'm feeling bad for Ivy and Andy. This is the last week Andy will be home prior to leaving for the waters off the northwest coast of Australia where he is a supervisor on a large boat supporting a number of oil rigs. 

When Andy's home, usually for multiple weeks at a time, he and Ivy are inseparable, twenty four hours a day. He goes hunting, so does Ivy. Fishing, miles back in the big woods of northern Maine? Hey, strap on a kid and let's go. Camping, four wheeling, snowmobiling? Heck yeah.

Andy's also become adept at participating in princess tea parties and other not-so-masculine playtime activities. I admire my youngest son. If I could go back and do it all over again, all four of my boys could teach me multiple lessons on child rearing and  believe me, I'd be a willing learner. 

Strange, when we get older and reflect back on our lives, how we wish we could certain parts of it over.

I've told each son upon the birth of his first child to remember what I did (as a father) when they were growing up that he really liked and copy it. Then, remember what I did that wasn't so stellar and do the exact opposite. It appears all followed my advice.

I'm proud of my guys.

Back to Andy and Ivy, I'm wondering who is going to miss whom the most for the next several months. 

Speaking of sons, Luke sent this picture of a bobcat captured on his trail cam not far from their home in Maine. You have to look closely, but it's there in the middle of the picture.

After driving all over northern Wisconsin and the UP on Monday, Tuesday was a quiet one. I went for my usual morning walk before returning to the shop where I carved and finished yet another name.

Couples keep having babies and I keep making names to give them. I wonder if these younger people know what causes babies? The storks sure seem to be working overtime these days. 

Thank God, my fatherly what-causes-babies talks are long over.

Take my word for it, Pawpaw talks are much easier.

I began cutting, gluing, and clamping for a future bowl on Tuesday.

This one will have various woods in a concentric pattern going around the middle. 

Boy, would my high school geometry teacher, Mr. Moss, be proud of me for throwing out that big word, concentric. He was one of the lousiest teachers I ever had, but failing to teach me geometry, the man at least taught me a big word, concentric, which I occasionally use to impress people who don't know me very well.

IHop: May I take your order?

Me: I'd like three man-sized pancakes and Miss, make sure they are concentric, please?

IHop, thinking as she's walking to the kitchen: Wow, that man sure is smart.

The popple bowl, a blank really, that I started turning in the lathe on Monday was placed in a paper grocery sack filled with shavings so it will "cure" for a few months and hopefully, keep from cracking. 

With temperatures in the upper 20's, Sargie insisted she carry in yesterday's wood. I told her I'd do it, but she said she wanted the exercise and fresh air. When finished, my bride chipped any remaining ice from the drive.

I must have done something right in my former life to deserve a girl with not only beauty and brains, but braun as well.

Last night was a lazy one spent being skewed multiple times while playing Rummy. Sargie may look loving and innocent, but believe me, if you see her with a deck of cards in her hands, run for the hills. My card playing stats for this winter are something like 0 for 20. 

OK, it's time to get this day started. I'm heading out to make a fire in the wood furnace before going for my morning jaunt. I want to work on the segmented part of the new bowl today which means I have to cut different kinds of wood and do some careful (as Sargie says) cyphering.

Mississippi Brother Garry taught me the mathematic formula and I have that written down somewhere. All I really remember is it has something to do with pi... or is that pie? Since Garry's married to Miss Jody, it must be pie. I hope so.

Seems to me that if a guy has pie are squared, he'd have a bunch of them. Miss Jody's sweet tater "orange" pie is my favorite.

With those deep thoughts, it's time to head out the door.

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

So are the tales from Pentoga Road...

Don't let those innocent looks fool you.

Thankfully, the phone rang during our game of Rummy last night saving my card playing ego from being completely decimated.