August 10, 2021 - Tuesday morning

65 degrees/hazy/calm winds

Pentoga Road

Our current conditions of high humidity reminds me of my days as a graduate student at the University of Southern Mississippi in Hattiesburg. I'd walk from one air conditioned building to the next as I pursued an advanced degree in education. Remaining outside for too long felt like I'd crawled between two wet, warm, paper towels.

That's what it feels like on Pentoga Road this week. 

I went for my early morning walk on Monday. Even the mere act of lacing my shoes caused sweat to drip into my eyes. The wild flowers don't seem to mind the humid conditions as I discovered yet another variety not seen this summer.

Making a conscious decision to take it easy on Tuesday, I sat under the ceiling fan in the living room and switched hiking gear from one pack to the other. 

The pack for a long torso that had been ordered last spring doesn't fit right. REI will purchase it back and give me a gift card to be used to buy another that will, hopefully, be a better fit.

I look at the equipment spread out on the floor, all that's needed to live for five to six months on the trail, and I wonder why I own so much "stuff" in real life. 

A half full backpack vs a house, barn, and two sheds, filled with goodies. Other than for hiking, I prefer the house and all. 

Sargie and I enjoyed a lengthy ride in the air conditioned car, our only escape from the heat and humidity.  Back home, I returned to the couch and sat under the ceiling fan.

Finally, I couldn't take it any more. Sitting around is for old people. Exiting the house, I parked the old Ford tractor in the shade and spent a couple of hours doing semi annual maintenance. With the oil and filter changed, along with a complete grease job and charging the six volt battery, the old war horse is ready to do some real late summer and fall work.

Most of you already know this, but the tractor and I were manufactured in the same month and year, June of 1952. Everything on it, other than tires, seems to be original, just the same as its owner.

Needless to say, we've bonded. 

Sargie, who'd been doing laundry and hanging clothes on the line, (something else that's fading into the future) joined me in the garden where we grazed on green beans, peas, and blueberries.

(Oh, we own a dryer and use it often, but Sargie hates to let "drying days," even humid ones, go to waste.)

The vegetables are loving the current conditions. We'll soon be picking cauliflower, one of our favorites.

Onto another subject:

I read online a few years ago how hard it is to breed goldfish in captivity. The water had to be a certain temperature, the acidity just right, the parents separated from the eggs once spawning occurred, and a high protein diet implemented.

Yeah, well, look at what we have.

There are so many baby goldfish that I'm hesitant to going swimming for fear I'll get eaten. Ignoring all of the above requirements for breeding, we must have the perfect natural seventeen cent Petsmart goldfish environment. After losing a few adults to a disease that blew through the pond early this spring, I went out and purchased five dollars worth to increase the population. 

Mama didn't have no very bright boy.

Simple observations show that we have several varieties of swimming toddlers:

Teeny tiny (hatched within the past day or two
Small (hatched a week ago)
Medium ( hatched two to three weeks ago)
Large (six weeks old)
Extra large (first appeared two months ago)

I figure if I give our fourteen grandbabies goldfish for their birthdays and Christmas, at least two hundred each, and all the Millgans take another hundred or two home before they depart from our Labor Day Celebration, the population should be down to under a thousand. 

Maybe Mama didn't have no dummy after all. (Okay, Miss Jody (my editor) does that still count as a double negative, even in jest?)

Or, I may have to go to the lake and catch a bass or two and let them feast for a day before they end up in our frying pan.

Okay, enough foolishness. Time to strap on the shoes and go for my morning walk. On today's agenda is a Milligan gathering of sisters and their husbands on Six Mile Lake. 

Hmm, Lisa and Benoit have three munchkins. I bet they'd like a few hundred goldfish to take back to Spain with them. 

I've been asked to bring popcorn for today's gathering, so you better believe that I'll be a poppin' after my walk.

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

So are the tales from Pentoga Road...