February 13, 2021 - Saturday morning

-12 degrees/cloudy skies/breezy

Pentoga Road

It's said there's nothing deeper than a mother's love for her child. I'm no expert, but I believe a grandmother's love comes in at a close second. 

Grandpas? Ah, we wait around a bit before teaching our grandbabies how to spit and whittle, you know, let Grandma do her thing before we move in.

If you don't believe me, just ask Hambone.

Speaking of Hambone, he's coming over to spend next weekend with us. Just as exciting, Carl the Weatherman says temperatures are to moderate by then so I'm already envisioning a sledding trip to the Caspian ski hill, possibly some quality snowmobile time, and towing the urchin around on a sled.

There's more to winter life than video games.

Yooper Brother Mark and I had a good walk to the Brule River and back Friday morning. After a week of temperatures registering in the teens, twenties, and even thirties, below zero, the river is about to freeze completely across.

I enjoy our weekly treks. It allows us to catch up on each other's lives while getting a bit of exercise.

Once home, Sargie and I had a quick breakfast before I saw her off to Iron Mountain. She enjoyed a good visit with Holly and Ross before moving onto Cheek's and Hambone's where she spent the afternoon.

Sargie's eyes were sparkling last night as she told me of her day and how she'd even given Cheeks a bath.

Yeah, that sounds like a good time, about as enjoyable as an old fashioned migraine headache while enduring a root canal, but then, I'm not a grandma.

I'll stick to the spittin' and whittling.

My first chore of the day was to open the hole over the circulation pump. With electricity restored to the pump and water flowing under the ice in the garden pond, keeping the hole open, even in minus double digit numbers, isn't too difficult.   

The main task lay, literally, on top of the garage roof. Initially, I thought there was only a foot or possibly two of snow to remove.

I thought wrong. Between what actually fell and the drifting that occurred after, I often found myself in snow over my knees.

Running around on a slippery, metal, roof isn't nearly as much fun as it used to be. I'd shovel for a while, then rest, then shovel and rest some more.

During one of my breaks, I sat on the peak and practiced making an opening video for my Pentoga Tales/TBuster on the Applachian Trail (my trail name) vlog that will hopefully debut on youtube sometime in the future.

Having a minor in communications, working in a couple of small time radio venues, and managing our local public access television station in Maine for years, I'm certainly not shy in front of a camera and am still capable of conjugating verbs and speaking in full sentences, but it's the digital aspect, that of assembling a video puzzle, that gives me problems.

Oh well, I have a plenty of time and cold weather in which to put the pieces together. 

The Compound (I always wanted to say that. Makes me feel rich and worldly.)

It was mid afternoon before the snow was finally removed. Next came doing more of the same, only on level ground. The tons of snow that had been shoveled from the roof had to be moved from the drive, back walk, and deck. Since a dusting, around an inch or so, of snow had fallen the night before, I went ahead and cleaned the entire drive.

In the end, the roof was bare and the drive clean. We're ready for the next snowstorm.

I'd planned to spend the remainder of the afternoon wiring the garden shed, but frozen from the inside out, opted to come in the house, build a roaring fire, and crawl under my electric throw in an attempt to bake the chills away. 

The late afternoon wasn't wasted. I spent no small amount of time cruising the internet for a royalty free theme song and even learned to add it to the video. Next comes graphics, fading in and out, special effects, etc. etc. etc. Eventually, these will be occasionally posted on a youtube channel and hopefully, on a weekly, if not daily basis once I'm on the trail.

Since only fifty seniors, give or take a few, over the age of seventy, have ever completed a thru hike of the AT, I'm going to make my videos slanted towards a more senior audience, also to call awareness to Advanced Macular Degeneration. There are too many of us with less than perfect eyesight and I've communicated with and read of many who think it's the end of their active lives. By requiring monthly injections in my eye and no doubt stumbling into a rock or or a million while hiking northward, I hope to be a living example, proof, that indeed, when God closes one door just a tiny bit, another swings wide open.

Even if I don't make it to the end (and the odds are against me) I want to prove that it's getting out there that counts, not giving up and sitting at home feeling sorry for oneself.

Stay tuned. This is going to be quite a ride and should be fun if nothing else.

Hey, look who sent me another picture or two. It's my munchkin niece/buddy BFF, Aria!

Sargie arrived home late Friday afternoon full of stories and saying she had a wonderful day. Her smile, cheerful attitude, and sparkly eyes, bring me so much joy.

I'm going for my walk with Mark early this morning. Today's outside job is to clear several feet of snow from the roof of the storage shed. Depending on how hard the wind is blowing, I'll continue wiring in the garden house. Failing that, I may stay inside and let Sargie Pants beat me in a game of Rummy and after, try to assemble more pieces of the digital video puzzle.

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

So are the tales from Pentoga Road...