Humid? Whew, you can cut the air with a knife.

August 9, 2021 - Monday morning

67 degrees/cloudy/calm winds

Pentoga Road

Well, we got what we badly needed and that was rain. An inch and a tenth sat in our gauge this morning, the total from the past 36 hours. Unfortunately, the rain ushered in a warm front and with it, humidity from the Gulf of Mexico. The temperature's forecast to be only in the mid 70's to low 80's. Problem is, the dew point is to be almost as high. 

Think I'll call Mississippi Brother Garry and ask him to keep the humidity down there. Carl the Weatherman says these tropic conditions will be with us through Wednesday.

Well, I need to make an apology here for putting both feet and hands in my mouth during yesterday's writing. I made the comment about Hambone's physical activity requiring more energy than the movement of two thumbs.

A poor choice of words. 

I didn't mean for it to reflect on a lack of parenting abilities, only a difference in philosophies between the younger generations and mine. It was a lousy choice of words on my part that weren't meant to reflect on Mel and Macrea personally. I apologize.

Seems many in my generation are at a crossroads and somewhat confused. We were raised in a time where if some even had a television, that was a big deal. Oh, and how we rejoiced when, after being sent outside to "turn the antenna" that was attached to a long section of pipe, we might receive three networks. 

"THERE! NO BACK! TOO MUCH! BACK! THERE, DON'T MOVE!"  

Then came the digital age. We were college kids who were fascinated with such things as digital watches and simple calculators. 

A microwave? Only for the rich, but suddenly, my young family could afford one even though my modest teacher's salary kept us near poverty. 

Computers... Dad refused to get one until I bought him a Dell so we could communicate, via satellite, from my cabin in the arctic to their retirement home in Florida. Once he discovered the miracle of the World Wide Web, Mom said it was difficult to pry him away from either doing research on family history or downloading articles written about the airplanes of WWII, his passion.

Time progressed, I officially retired, but found I was teaching courses from Pentoga Road for the University of Alaska online.

And now, we find ourselves waiting for our Starlink kit, an internet medium that promises lightning fast speeds. It's something I don't understand, but am certainly willing to take advantage of.

Seems games like Kick the Can, Hide n' Go Seek, catching lightning bugs, or the mere pleasure of riding a bike with friends and siblings has passed. Basic skills that we were taught as children are no longer needed and why would they be? Few burn wood, grow a garden, or can vegetables. Carpenters, plumbers, electricians, and even lawn care companies, are hired to do what we used to consider basic maintenance.

Those are skills from my generation and those that came before me, not necessarily the new.

Mom's words, often heard when Barb and I got underfoot, "GET OUTSIDE AND PLAY... NOW!" are seldom heard in our neighborhoods, let alone, "Go play in the sun. It's good for you." 

To see a group of children riding bikes is so rare that Sargie and I often comment when we see them. 

The glare of the digital age has replaced the glow radiated by lightning bugs.

So what am I saying? I don't know. For being a so called "expert" in education, I find I'm confused and that leads to no small amount of frustration. My world is turning faster and faster and I feel as though I need to either hop on the train or get out of the way.

I've talked with Garry, Mark, and several others of my generation. We all seem to have similar feelings.

I'm not talking about any parents in particular, but rather about a generational difference. Mine are the words of a quickly aging man reflecting on a much more modern world than the one in which he grew up.

It was Jambo who imparted some words of wisdom that made perfect sense not long ago. He simply said, "It's different now. It's just different. It's just the way it is."

It sure is and I'm happy to step aside and let that train roar on down the tracks without me. 

That's why my grandchildren call me Grandpa. 

Sunday morning's walk was a race with the rain. I don't know, I think I'm becoming the Deer Whisperer. Seems everywhere I turn, there's a deer to meet me. Holding out my hand, I thought this one was going to let me pet her on the edge of Pentoga Village.

She got close before suddenly changing her mind and scampered away.

The giant pumpkin is growing by leaps and bounds. All the external runners have been pruned and other fruits plucked from the vines. In other words, all the nourishment from the plant is going directly into the pumpkin.

Should you have any doubt how fast it's growing:

July 29

August 2

August 6

August 8

It'll be fun to see how large it gets. Again, it all depends on the weather. Stay tuned.

With rain pouring down, I finished working up the wood that had been brought in on Saturday. Hambone watched a Harry Potter movie before heading to the barn to continue working on his project.

We left shortly after noon to deliver the munchkins to Mommy and Daddy, running a few errands before returning home. 

The hummingbirds are eating us out of house and home and we're having to fill the feeder twice a day. They are the world's smallest piggies.

Last night was a good one, filled with nothing but peace and quiet. 

It's to rain and be humid today, a good excuse to keep my physical activities in check. After picking up oil and a filter in Iron Mountain yesterday, I think I'll do some needed maintenance on the tractor. Otherwise, I'll see what Sargie has in store and play it by ear.

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

So are the tales from Pentoga Road...

Cheeks is supervising big brother's work on Sunday morning