Sister-in-law, Debbie

What you can't see are the thousands of tiny butterflies surrounding her. Look to her right, over the pond.

June 26, 2021 - Saturday morning

57 degrees/cloudy skies/calm winds
Pentoga Road

Happy birthday, Mom. I miss you.

Pat and Debbie arrived late Friday morning for a fun afternoon of talking, laughing, and eating. It's too bad the butterflies didn't show up in the picture above. There were, literally, thousands that surrounded Debbie as she walked alongside the water.

Earlier in the day, Mark and I enjoyed our walk to Pentoga Village and back. After receiving an inch and a half of rain the night before, the humidity was high, so much so that you could see it in the air.

Back home, Sargie and I planted the flowers we'd purchased earlier to fill any empty spots in the pots and planters around the yard.

It was time to prepare the large lake trout I'd caught last fall. Sargie sliced apples while I ventured to the garden to pull a few fresh onions.

I placed the onions and apples inside the fish, then wrapped it good, old fashioned, bacon with lots of fat. Finally, the entire thing was tightly wrapped in several layers of tin foil before placing it on the grill.

I guess it must have been palatable enough as there was only one small piece left to send home with Pat and Debbie to enjoy as leftovers. 

Sargie had made a vegetable salad and Debbie brought sliced potatoes to put on the grill. Along with fruit and whipped cream for dessert, we ate like royalty.

I'm sorry to say I didn't get many pictures while the folks were here. I guess we were too busy talking and enjoying each other's company.

Sargie and I left late in the afternoon for a program at the Iron County Museum entitled Gangsters Up North. 

We drove to Mark and Sheri's before walking to the museum, just a block away.

There was a large crowd and people "neighbor'd" as we stood in line waiting to go inside the large lecture hall.

Mark and I slipped away to the old saloon for pop and bottles of water. 

The large crowd was waiting and eager for the presentation to begin. 

Unfortunately, the lecture was a bust. Entitled Gangsters Up North, the presenter's idea of what north is was completely different than those in attendance. Much of his "up north" talk concerned the lower peninsula, almost four hundred miles away. The majority of what he talked about on this side of the Mackinac Bridge concerned northern Wisconsin, not the UP.

Oh well, everyone seemed to have a good time regardless and though disappointed, all gave the presenter a polite applause at the end.

When I gave presentations about arctic Alaska before retirement, I strongly believed in leaving the audience wanting more. This guy, a retired university professor, left everyone looking at their watches.

The four of us enjoyed our walk back to Mark and Sheri's along the old mine pit. 

Prominent is the shaft/tower where equipment and miners were lowered thousands of feet into the ground and iron rich ore was lifted to the surface.

The wildflowers along the pond were beautiful, especially these bell-shaped beauties.

Friday night was one of those old fashioned summer evenings that those of us who grew up without phones and computers remember well. Children, covered with dirt from head to toe, were outside playing, and big people were enjoying life simply because they could. We were no exception.

How best to top off a beautiful evening?

Our local ice cream stand supplied copious amounts of culinary summertime pleasure. It was like the old days when Dad would load Mom, Barb, and I, into the car and we'd go to the A&W for root beer. All Sheri, Mark, Sargie, and I, needed last night was to get a good game of Hide and Go Seek going or possibly Kick the Can and it would have been perfect.

Driving home to Pentoga Road, Sargie even commented at the number of lightening bugs sparkling over the rural hayfields. That started the conversation of childhood days when we caught as many as our little grubby hands could snatch out of the air and made "lanterns" by putting them in a fruit jars. Some were dissected with the glowing appendage stuck to a finger and worn as a beautiful ring that could be twirled through the air in the dark. 

And so our day ended. For a short while, gone were politics and the grown up troubles of the world. Last night, we got to be our parents and grandparents, those who sat outside and enjoyed a warm summer's eve simply because they could.

With rain in the forecast, Sargie and I are going to try to mow today before it starts. She'll take command of the rider while I follow pushing the trim mower. 

Hmm, somehow there seems to be an inequity in that.

Oh well, I'll do what I always do. I'll just keep on pushin'!

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

So are the tales from Pentoga Road...

Swans have made their summer home in the old Caspian Mine pit, just a few hundred feet from Mark and Sheri's home.