Fresh from Sitka, Alaska - Grady Paul Love

September 9, 2021 - Thursday morning

42 degrees/clear skies/calm winds

Pentoga Road

My good buddy, Grandpa Bobby, "The Love Doctor," sent this latest snapshot of his grandson. Grady's daddy, Evan, is a commercial fisherman. Can you tell?

He's sure a good lookin' boy. 

... and being a defacto Alaskan, I'll say that king salmon is a good lookin' fish as well.

Speaking of good looking grandbabies, Ivy's doing well during her initial days of kindergarten. Andy said she kissed and hugged him goodbye and scampered into the school on her first day with no hesitation. Her second day found her riding the bus.

My kind of gal.

Sargie and I did our medical rounds on Wednesday. Her visit to the blood lab at the hospital was brief. She walked in, had blood drawn, and walked out in a matter of minutes. 

We made our way to the Vision Center and spent time before my appointment picking out glasses. One pair is similar to what I wore in grade school with black, plastic frames. The other pair is dressier, but stronger than what I presently wear.

Sargie's former coworker, Laura, administering the pretest

We learned that my current frames, the ones that Cheeks helped to disassemble, are still under warrantee. I paid for new lenses to go in the replacement frames, so I'll have three new pair of glasses. One pair will be for good. Another will be a back up, and the last will be for working in the shop or hiking. 

Laura administered my pretest that checked for color blindess, glaucoma, depth perception, etc. It was all those things that Sargie did before retirement.

The check up with John went well. My vision hasn't changed and I felt good knowing it hadn't declined during the past six months. 

With hugs to all and a much lighter wallet, we departed for Pentoga Road.

Yesterday afternoon was an interesting one. We watched an eye opening, two hour presentation, online, about the Covid vaccine. The government keeps saying to follow the science and we are. Now if the politicians would keep their hands out of it, we'd know who and what to believe.

I finally measured the giant pumpkin yesterday afternoon. There's a formula where it is measured in three different ways to estimate the weight.

It appears, Curt the Pumpkin, weighs approximately 345 lbs. If the weather forecast can be believed, there might actually be another two weeks before a hard frost will signal an end to the growing season. According to the science from Cornell University, not from the CDC, the pumpkin can gain anywhere from twenty to sixty pounds a day, so one weighing in the 600 pound range is still a possibility.

Question: Why do I grow a giant pumpkin?

Answer: Because I can.

Question: Why is it named Curt?

Answer: Once Halloween has come and gone, the pumpkin will be used as deer bait just up the road at Alaska Curt's. 

I'm fairly certain that our buddy Curt has contrived the following, carefully thought out, formula:

Giant Pumpkin = Giant Buck

That's why he's called Alaska Curt and I'm not. He's known to think deeper thoughts than I do.

As my son, Luke, is fond of saying, "It's science."

Enough foolishness. It's daylight and time to go for my walk. Sargie and I will be in the kitchen today preparing for our upcoming weekend in Eagle River, Wisconsin. Two of her sons, their families, and Sargie and I, are renting a lake house for a couple of days. Sargie's making a big ol' pot of spaghetti and I'm preparing a large pan of French Toast Casserole that can be warmed and ready to eat in minutes.

Just remember, a man's work is never done.

So are the tales from Pentoga Road...