The work on the kitchen begins

March 8, 2014 – Saturday

12 degrees/cloudy-snow/calm winds

Pentoga Road

I just had the hardest time remembering what day of the week it is. I used to laugh when Dad commented that when one is retired, other than Sunday, the days of the week really have no meaning. I agree, but if each blends into such a blurry mix, how can they go by so quickly?

I was slow in getting around Friday morning. It was later on before I got the log uploaded. After, I hiked my five miles. Nothing new there and the knee continues to get stronger.

It will be a while before anyone sits on the garden bench. The snow is just a few inches shy of covering the back.

Sargie and I made a quick drive to town and did a bit of grocery shopping. 

Indoor greenhouse assembly was next on the agenda after arriving home. While I did that, Sargie began moving items from shelves and counter tops in the kitchen, also removing all the switch and outlet covers in preparation for stripping the wallpaper. We were a busy duo all afternoon.

The new indoor greenhouse. The lamp (bottom) points up and provides enough heat to keep the nighttime temperatures between 70 and 80 degrees inside. After the seeds sprout and are transplanted, I'll hang grow lights inside.

I later had to wade through the snow, over knee-deep in most places, to the garden greenhouse to retrieve a heat lamp and some of the potting supplies. 

Brutus broke most of the trail, which made walking much easier.

Get that nose down and break trail!

Last night, I folded pepper and tomato seeds in wet paper towels, sealed them in baggies, and placed those in the greenhouse until they sprout. After, each will be transplanted into a conventional six-pack.

Sargie began stripping wallpaper in the kitchen and has most of one section completed. She said last night that if we both work on it today, we could have the walls bare by nightfall. I’m all about that!

I’m going to get this uploaded and get my walk out of the way. With much warmer temperatures forecast, I’m eager to finish any interior work so I can begin to plan for maple syrup season, hopefully in two to three weeks. It will be time after to prepare the garden, then there’ll be trails to make, wood to cut, a lawn to keep, the exterior trim on the windows needs scraping and painting, there's a storage building to construct, and the list goes on and on. If only you had my life.

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

So are the tales from Pentoga Road…

Attending the Golden Apple Awards assembly honoring nephew, Regan, in DePere, Wisconsin, Wednesday morning. The Milligan sisters, who drove down from Iron Mountain, Sargie and I, plus Aunt Chris, from his father's side, represented the family.

March 7, 2014 – Friday

22 degrees/freezing rain – sleet – snow/calm winds

Pentoga Road

I feel as though there ought to be flowers and vegetables already planted in the garden to take advantage of this current downpour of rain; except they’d be buried under three feet of snow.

Goofy weather. I see it was officially -17 here early Thursday morning and am happy to report the forecast high for Sunday is 40 degrees. That’s FORTY ABOVE ZERO. I’m not going to complain. Any mark that registers above freezing is a welcome one.

Wednesday, in Green Bay, was one of the busier ones I’ve had in several years. We began the morning by attending a grade school assembly where Sargie’s nephew, Regan, along with three other team members who teach third grade, were honored for their excellence in teaching. It was "Wacky Wednesday" when the teacher and children dressed... well, wacky.

That's our Regan dressed in the.... orange leggings.

The team even made the local Fox news.

The school invited relatives of the recipients to the assembly, making it quite clear that the whole thing was a surprise. In fact, before the ceremony, we were tucked away in a janitor’s room along with the other recipients’ family members.

Being so stealthy paid off. All the award winners of the coveted Golden Apple were very surprised and we saw Regan wipe away more than one tear.



Later we attended a small, private reception, enjoying coffee, cake, and conversation.  The pictures say it better than I can.

Holly, Jeanne, and Nancy, headed back to the Upper Peninsula while we faced the car south as Sargie drove us to Oshkosh (B’gosh!). She seemed driven by a greater power, a vision of something better to come. I witnessed her eyes becoming glazed and her conversation somewhat animated. We rounded a corner, and there it was, the outlet mall.

Sargie’s the queen of clearance racks and is able to sniff out bargains with bloodhound accuracy. I had to sprint to keep up as we made our way to the first store and am certain Sargie heard the Hallelujah Chorus as we entered.

Baby outfits for .97 each? It was a new grandma’s delight. How about Packers t-shirts for $4.47 each. Uh huh. And the bargains continued. Oh yeah, only at the outlet mall.

It took me about four minutes to peruse the entire store before I made sure Sargie had her cell phone and left in search of guy shops.

Ah, which way, left or right? I struggled to make out the names of the stores, there were so many, so I began walking. After forty-five minutes, I arrived back to where I started. There were two shops that featured man stuff, all clothing, one being an Under Armor outlet. When I entered, all the twenty and thirty-somethings looked up from browsing the skin-tight bargains, obviously wondering what an old, flabby, guy like me would be doing in a store that obviously caters to the young-and-beautiful.

Well, excuse me. I left knowing that in reality, I could probably hike further than most, if not all, of those young and beautiful, gel-haired, perfect, city boys and girls who fancied themselves outdoor athletes. Who needs skin tight underwear anyway? My loose Walmart clearance athletic clothing works just fine, thank you.

I returned to the car and enjoyed an hour or two of sitting in the sun, occasionally reading my Kindle, and possibly, I might have closed my eyes. Outlet mall shopping wasn’t so bad.

Sargie and I were reunited later in the day. She was thrilled at the bargains she found and I watched as the car filled with bag after bag of bargains, purchased for only pennies on the dollar.

We later visited Harbor Freight where I escaped for under $25, a new record for me, and stopped at the mall in Appleton, Wisconsin. I spent more than an hour in a large sporting goods store with quite an impressive back packing/hiking section.

I wanted information on portable water filtration systems. Mine works well, but it’s heavy and I don’t want to carry it the entire length of the Appalachian Trail.

I grabbed one salesman and asked information about an ultra violet system the size of a pen. He wasn’t sure, but could get someone who might know more. She wasn’t so knowledgeable, so called a third person. In the end, I spouted what I’d read off the internet and from one or two hikers with whom I’d talked. That conversation led to another and a fourth person joined us, the manager. In the end, no one knew anything about hiking water filtration systems, but I was offered a job working in their hiking section. I told them if they needed help, they ought to advertise in the Under Armor store where all the young and beautiful outdoor people hang out.

We spent a bit of time with Ashley, Sargie’s niece, her husband, Brent, and of course, our little Brielle. They just acquired a new puppy, a black lab, named Jordy Nelson, (after the Packer’s famous wide receiver.) We talked for well over an hour and I alternated my time between the puppy and Brielle. I wish we lived closer to Ashley and Brent as we enjoy their company so much.

After a quick supper at Denny’s we called it day. I remember crawling into bed, watching a bit of television, and that was it. I’m out of power shopping shape and besides, who can keep up with the queen of clearance racks? I bet the young and beautiful in the Under Armor store couldn’t.

I was up fairly early on Thursday morning and after a quick shower, left Sargie to sleep for a bit while I headed to the lobby of the hotel to sip coffee and grade assignments.

We later made a drive-by trip to Sam’s for household goods, then stopped in Oconto, Wisconsin, to have lunch with Shea, one of Sargie’s sons. Shea recently began a new job at one of the cheese factories in the region and absolutely loves his work. We spent almost an hour chomping burgers and fries and listening while he described his duties, benefits, and opportunities for advancement. It appears like Shea has a golden opportunity and we’re very proud of him.

We pulled into the kennels to pick up Brutus. Our puppy was like an over wound eight-day clock when he saw us. We felt sorry for our little guy as he thought we’d abandoned him, but after CONSTANT contact last evening, when he refused to leave my side, he has resumed his usual place, two feet away from me rather than trying to crawl onto my lap.

Going home!

Yooper Brother Mark called yesterday saying the truck was filled with wood and ready to be brought home from the plant. Sargie took me in before dark and followed me home. I’ll unload the wood in the next day or two when the weather straightens out. I should have enough now to easily make it through the heating and maple syrup season… assuming we have one.

There was a message on the answering machine. I have a doctor’s appointment early Monday morning. I thought it was later this month. Oh Lord, just my luck. I was doing so well with my weight and healthy eating habits until we went on vacation. I can only hope that Wednesday night’s chicken fried steak, mashed potatoes, rolls, butter, and dessert has worn off by Monday morning. Certainly I’ll be hiking once or twice a day for the next three days, if nothing else, to make me feel more healthy. I doubt my doctor, who is my age and a long distance athlete, will be fooled.

It’s time to plant pepper and tomato seeds so I’ll be assembling the indoor greenhouse today. Hopefully it will get warm enough this year to plant a garden. I have some seeds of a forty-five day arctic tomato, the same as I used to grow in northern Maine that should ensure we have something round and red to munch on this summer. Last year’s tomato crop didn’t ripen until a week before our first frost. In fact, the entire garden provided pretty slim pickins’ last summer.

I think we’ll start stripping wallpaper in the kitchen later today. It’s going to be a mess, a long ordeal, but unless Sargie or I have a rich uncle we don’t know about, no one else is going to do it.

But then, I’m not surprised.

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

So are the tales from Pentoga Road…

After a big supper on Tuesday night, we scaled back and shared dessert.

March 5, 2014 – Wednesday

10 above/clear/calm

Green Bay, Wisconsin

It’s going to be a fast log this morning. We’re in Green Bay and have an obligation to attend a bit later this morning. More about that in a minute.

Brutus took time out of his busy schedule on Monday morning to Skype with my son, Luke, who was in Maine. They're buddies.

After shoving a couple of Dramamine tablets down Brutus’s throat early Tuesday morning, we locked the house and headed towards the doggie boarders in Iron Mountain. Brutus gets carsick and we were so proud that he’d made it the entire way without emptying the contents of his belly. Sargie opened the back door, he started to step out… and threw up…. inside the car. Six more inches would have seen it spew onto the snow outside. We had his traveling blanket covering the seat, but still, it wasn’t pretty. I wadded up the blanket, threw it in a shopping bag, and placed it in the trunk. As I earlier told someone, you can’t kill him, you can’t live without him.

We stopped halfway to Green Bay and threw the blanket away and purchased a spray can of Lysol. We’ll have to purchase another cheap covering before we pick Brutus up tomorrow.

Our time in Green Bay has been a lot of fun. Sargie shops at her girl places and I walk the opposite direction to those that are more worthwhile for a guy. She went to TJ Maxx, I headed to Office Depot and the tool department at Sears. She looks at girl and baby (grandbaby) stuff and I go to the farm/garden and sporting goods section at Fleet Farm. She looks at interior lights for the kitchen and I look at outside security lights for the barn. It all works.

A hairdo that says, "Business in front. Party in back."

Along with Sargie’s sisters, who are driving down from Iron Mountain, we’re attending a ceremony this morning at a local grade school honoring Sargie’s nephew, Regan, who is an elementary teacher receiving the Golden Apple Award for excellence in teaching. We’ve been invited to surprise him, so it should be a lot of fun.

We plan to head on down to Oshkosh to knock around the outlet stores after the ceremony. I’ve never been there, so at least it will be new territory for me and no doubt, I’ll enjoy it… as long as there is a man store or two. If not, I’ll simply grade assignments or people watch. We’re back in Green Bay tonight, will hit Sam’s Club and Harbor Freight Thursday morning, then drive north to pick up Brutus and head home Thursday afternoon.

This Irish girl is getting ready for St. Patrick's Day.

 Time to get another cup of coffee and get ready for the day.

So are the tales from Pentoga Road…

A man's work is NEVER done.

March 2, 2014 – Sunday followed by March 3, 2014 - Monday

-22 degrees/high overcast/calm on Sunday
-37 degrees/clear/calm on Monday

Pentoga Road

I evidently uploaded Sunday's log before we went to Marquette yesterday, but failed to push the publish button. So, here are Sunday's musings followed by today's. Hey, twice the reading for the same money. What a deal.

Written Sunday morning

I went to give Sargie a quick peck, a light kiss, yesterday. As my face neared hers, a bolt of lightening, well, at least one of strong static electricity, jumped between our lips. She jumped, I laughed.

For one to kiss and not be electrocuted these days, either Sargie or I have to hurry and touch the other so we both are grounded. Sometimes in our haste to lessen the effect, it’s more like a slap, but after, we can enjoy a millisecond of tenderness without a lethal charge of electricity being sent to the ends of our toes.

But it’s not limited to human contact.

I was sitting on the floor, loading the stove with wood, when Brutus ambled in and sat beside me. As I turned my head towards his, a strong bolt of static electricity jumped between his nose and mine.

Since Brutus is a bulldog and has a head filled with cement, he barely reacted. Unlike my blockhead buddy, my nose is sensitive and was severely traumatized. It will probably be spring before I am once again able to stop and smell a rose along the way.

Due to open around Memorial Day, one of our local parks isn't quite yet prepared to receive campers.

Page Two

Sargie made mention yesterday that one of our dining room table chairs is wobbly and loose. Due to lack of moisture in our home, the glue has become ineffective and the wood has shrunk. Though I fill the kettle that sits on top of the wood stove four or five times a day, everything in the house is bone dry. There’ll be no lack of gluing and clamping jobs this spring.

The dining room table, chairs, and hutch, were handed down from Grandma and Grandpa Reinhardt and used when the extended family gathered for the holidays during the forties, fifties, sixties, and seventies, and later, while the Pennington boys were growing up in the eighties and nineties. It survived moves from Illinois to northern Maine, and finally, to Pentoga Road several years ago.

There are a lot of memories with that dining room set. I remember a particular holiday, during the mid-sixties, when the entire family, Mom, Dad, my sister, aunts, uncles, and a few hundred cousins, gathered at Grandma and Grandpa’s. It was the Christmas when I made my ascension into adulthood, the day that I graduated from sitting at one of the many card tables with the younger cousins, those who were entirely too immature to dine with the big people, to the large table where only the adults sat. With that privilege came the knowledge that I’d be eating off of Grandma’s good Noritake China, dishes that were only removed from the hutch for very special occasions. I’d come of age.

I felt very grown up and attempted to act as such. Finally an equal, I was reaching for a bowl of mashed potatoes when my arm knocked over a large glass of milk, spilling its contents onto several heavily laden, carefully prepared platters, all with the Noritake label on the bottom. Though my initial experience was somewhat tenuous, I was allowed to sit at the table for every family holiday that followed until I inherited the dining room set thirty years ago.

The entire ensemble, the table with two leaves, a beautiful hutch with a glass front, and Grandma’s Noritake bone china, prominently displayed in the hutch, are the first thing one sees when entering the front door in our little home here on Pentoga Road.

Page Three

I took off out the door early Saturday morning and enjoyed my daily stroll. The wind was brisk and the temperatures remained well below zero. I’m noticing the area lakes are mostly deserted. It appears even the most diehard ice fishermen are beginning to hang up their ice augers, rods, and minnow buckets, for the year. I think everyone is ready for spring.

My tracks alongside of those made by a coyote on Pentoga Road

Upon arriving home, Sargie said no water would flow into the wash machine downstairs. With hairdryer in hand, I thawed any dips in the hoses and discharge pipe. All were once again free within a short time.

Sargie and I took our usual trip to town pausing for a Coke along the way. We stopped at the hardware store where I purchased a heat tape to wrap around the hoses of the clothes washer. It sits along the exposed west wall and is the only thing in the basement that the cold temperatures seem to affect.

I just returned from checking the hoses. Sargie can reclaim her hair dryer. The heat tape worked.

Once back home, I plowed the drive and later played fetch with Brutus before bringing in the nightly supply of wood.

I took hot ashes from the wood stove and placed them in a galvanized bucket then set it outside. I couldn't find the bucket the next day. Having melted through several feet of snow, it was completely out of sight.

Opting to leave the television set turned off, we decided to spend our evening listening to music and playing Rummy and in what has become the norm, Sargie cleaned my clock. I’m Rummy challenged.

We’re heading to Marquette later this morning. It’s a pleasant hour-and-a-half drive to the shores of Lake Superior and I’m hoping to get some good shots of the ice on the lake. I recently read where the Great Lakes are close to being 100% frozen. We’re also looking forward to eating out with Macrea and Mel and catching up on all the news in Sargie’s youngest son’s life.

So with all that being said, I guess I ought to think about adding windshield wiper fluid to the Kia, wiping the dirt off the head and tail lights, and sip another cup of coffee while waiting for Sargie.

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

So are the tales from Pentoga Road… 

Monday, March 3, 2014

The frozen shores of Lake Superior

March 3, 2014 – Monday

-37 degrees/clear/calm

Pentoga Road

I hate the new Yahoo Mail. It seems every time they attempt to improve it, the online email service gets more cumbersome and slower. The newest upgrades have about convinced me that it may be time to move on.

I’ve subscribed to their service and had the same email address for years. Opting to pay a yearly fee for huge amounts of storage and no advertising, most of my university work is done through the Yahoo web servers. They’ve typically been much faster and easier than those of the university’s.

In the last year or two, it seems every improvement has resulted in less than satisfactory results with slower speeds. As it’s said, “If it ain’t broke, don’t fix it.” Hear me Yahoo?

It’s a bit nippy out there this morning, although with the sun rising earlier each morning coupled with the lack of wind, it doesn’t seem so bad. Hopefully, this will be the last record-setting day of the winter. See? I’m thinking positive thoughts and if nothing else, am attempting, no willing, spring to come galloping in sooner rather than later.

An ice boat went zipping along beside us on Lake Superior Sunday afternoon

The phone rang fairly early Sunday morning. It was my son, Matt, along with my gorgeous grandbaby, Emmie, asking if I wanted to chat. Emmie and I had quite the conversation. We spent the next twenty minutes talking Baby to Grandpa stuff; you know, teething, cooing, and doing all those things that deep discussions involve. Matt recently arrived home in New Hampshire after a prolonged business trip to China, Vietnam, and Korea. Oh, and Emmie finally turned the phone over to her daddy. He's doing well too.

Obviously, Emmie's entertaining her Grandpa Pennington

We left Pentoga Road midmorning on Sunday headed for Marquette. The drive was beautiful and at one point, Sargie and I were entertained by two deer that ran alongside the car for a quarter of a mile or more.

We had slowed down to almost a stop after Sargie spotted them and one attempted to cross the highway in front of us. I guess the doe decided the snow was too deep, so she rejoined her partner on our side and they both rain along the shoulder until they could find snow shallow enough to allow them to run into the woods.

This winter has to be decimating the already shrunken deer herd. Wolves destroyed huge numbers this past year. Coupled with a long and wet spring in ’13 and now a record setting cold winter, I doubt we’ll be seeing too many wander through the back yard this summer. I haven’t seen a deer track on our land since Christmas. They’ve either gone deep into hiding or there are no longer the numbers. I rather suspect it’s the later.

We did a bit of shopping after arriving in Marquette. Sargie opted to peruse the clearance racks in TJ Maxx while I wandered next door and slobbered over gardening equipment at Lowes.

I was sitting in the parking lot when my cell phone rang. On the screen popped the face of one of my beautiful granddaughter’s, Ellie. I guess I’m getting old and though I consider myself fairly up-to-date on today’s technology, it still amazed me how I could be sitting in Marquette, Michigan, and suddenly be seeing and talking to my granddaughter in Connecticut.

We had a wonderful conversation and I heard of the most fun birthday party she attended this past weekend. Next came my grandson, Wyatt, who was excited as he was going to a birthday party Sunday afternoon. My oldest son, Josh, and I managed to talk a bit before signing off. What a treat to see everyone on a small screen while sitting in a frozen parking lot close to the shores of Lake Superior.

We drove to Macrea and Mel’s apartment and had the grand tour of their new digs. Mel has the baby’s room decked out and though the grand arrival isn’t expected until early summer, the room is ready, complete with crib, bassinette, dresser, rocking chair, and clothes. All that’s missing is the baby.

Mel had to work her part time job as a cook at the local bowling alley and couldn’t join us, so we went to her for lunch. We had a great meal and caught up on all the happenings in each other’s lives. Mel really outdid herself fixing our lunch and the food was fantastic. Too bad she had to work and we only got to see her a short while.

I wanted to take some pictures along Lake Superior while it’s frozen. I’ll let the pictures do the talking. It was bitterly cold and windy, but beautiful.

Hmm, penguins in Michigan? Sure enough, there they were. I suspect some college students from Northern Michigan University might have had a hand importing these birds from Antarctica. 

Sargie was hoping to go swimming, but there was no open water. In fact, Lake Superior is completely frozen across.

In 1988, a student from Northern Michigan University was swept off this sea wall. His good friend jumped in the water in an attempt to save him. Both drowned. The plaque is below.

The old lighthouse now serves as the Maritime Museum in Marquette

Sargie and I arrived home last night shortly before dark. After carrying in wood and warming the house, it was nice to settle in for the evening. Brutus seemed to manage just fine by himself all day. One interesting thing; he had gone upstairs, gotten into Sargie’s walk-in closet, retrieved one dress shoe, and brought it downstairs. He didn’t chew it, he simply brought it to the first floor and left it. I think he got lonely and wanted something of hers with him as he lay downstairs. Who knows what goes through the mind of a bulldog? Not me.

The phone rang. It was Yooper Mark’s daughter, Sarah, calling from Wyoming. Excited, giggly, and somewhat animated, she broke the news. Sarah and Curtis are expecting their first child next October!

Sarah was one of my students while teaching at Sheldon Jackson College in Sitka years ago. It was at her graduation that I met Mark, Sheri, Jared, and Grandma, and as they say, the rest is history.  I’ve already told Sarah that when they are visiting, we’ll be happy to help care for the baby. I volunteered to teach the little one all the outdoor skills needed to survive in the woods and on the water and as Sargie said, we already have a stroller and car seat. Just like with Mel and Macrea’s new baby room, all we need is the baby!

Congratulations, Sarah and Curtis. We’re so happy for you!

I’m not certain what today will bring. I have papers to read and grade and sometime before dark, I want to drive the old truck into town and leave it at Yooper Brother Mark’s plant to be filled with wood. We have talked of going to Rhinelander, but who knows what we’ll do. Since Sargie’s on vacation, I’ll let her call the shots. I’m just along for the ride.

I see the coffee cup is empty and the maid didn’t show up for work this morning. No doubt, the bitter cold temperatures rendered her car useless. Guess I’ll have to get up and get the coffee myself. But then, I’m not surprised.

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

So are the tales from Pentoga Road…

No words needed

Friday saw a visit to Barber Bob for a haircut

March 1, 2014 – Saturday

-7 degrees/clear/calm

Pentoga Road

Friday was a transition day. I put away the seed catalogues that have surrounded my chair to make room for the new indoor portable greenhouse. It will sit by the middle, south-facing window, just two or three feet from my recliner.

The transition started when the Russian tomato seeds I’d ordered arrived in yesterday’s mail. One variety is pear-shaped, although not a pear-type of meat tomato, and grows on bushes that are a mere 12 inches high. They are to be of decent mini-size, very sweet, and cover the entire bush.

The second variety remains pure green, even after the fruit ripens, is also a very sweet tomato, yet is a long keeping variety… supposedly staying good in the basement until the holiday season.

When I read that I’d get five seeds of one variety, ten of another, I discovered they weren’t lying. That’s exactly what was sent and I’ll have to make the most with the few I have. Unlike last year, there’s no room for any mistakes.

Thankfully, both varieties are old heirloom Russian tomatoes and I can save the seeds should I want to plant them in the future.

I just happened to think… I could be the UP’s outlet for Russian varieties, control all the Russian tomatoes in the area, and make millions.

That’s probably not going to happen. Knowing my luck, I’d be visited by a crazed Russian horticultural mafia hit man named Dimitri. No doubt, he’d threaten to pull my plants, scatter weed seed in the beds, or even worse, leave the door of the greenhouse open on a cold night.

So much for becoming the Upper Peninsula’s Russian tomato baron.

Page Two

I cranked up a very hesitant Blazer in preparation for a drive to town. Since the SUV has sat in the barn and hasn’t been started in a week or more, it made lots of moaning and creaking noises and I’m fairly certain it called me all sorts of inappropriate names. Chugging along at a hair-splitting thirty miles per hour, we made it to town in good shape.

It was time to visit one of my favorite people, Barber Bob. Bob and I have pretty much the same dialogue every time I visit. He tells me stories of days gone by and I tell him about a certain time in Alaska when…  The identical tales are repeated as they have been all the times before and though I can’t see his eyes, I know a much younger Barber Bob is suddenly transported to a wild frontier where there are no barbershops and one lives by his outdoor skills and wits.

I spent quite a bit of time in the chair yesterday; not because I had so much hair to cut, but because Bob’s daughter called from Oregon, something she does daily just because she can. I’ve found that regardless how busy my barber might be, there’s no hesitation to stop cutting hair and spend more than a few minutes talking with his daughter. Customers will just have to wait while Bob conduct’s more important business. A daddy’s love for his baby girl, even if she is just a few years younger than I am, is alive and well in small town America.

I was playing with my camera while Bob was on the phone. Ships, lighthouses, and logging chains hanging from the ceiling. The perfect man decor.

I stopped by the plant to check on Brother Yooper Mark. The boy works so hard that I’m fearful someday, he’ll turn into a pat of melted butter. I caught him on the production floor and we spent half an hour talking and gabbing. Mark and Sheri are heading to Green Bay this weekend to take part in a bowling tournament.

Page Three

My computer has been running slower and slower. Over two hours were spent transferring several gigabytes of pictures, several more of movies, graphics, and text, onto an external hard drive. The Mac has gained a second life and seems to be back up to speed.

I’ve been putting off gathering all the papers in preparation for filing 2013’s taxes. Though they are kept in one specific place, preparing for one’s taxes is about as much fun as enduring a root canal. In fact, the root canal might be preferable.

The papers were placed in a folder and set on the dining room table. All I needed to do was call the preparer and make an appointment.

I started to think… hmm, I could utilize one of those free tax sites, plug in a few numbers and get an idea of what kind of return I might expect. 

And so the roller coaster began.

The first time I entered the numbers, it appeared as though a few thousand dollars might be coming back my way. I was ecstatic. Oh my God, who cares about an interest free loan for a backhoe. I’d have enough money to pay cash!

Mama has always said that if something appears too good to be true, it probably is. I filled in the blanks again just to be sure.

That one resulted with me owing several hundred dollars to the State of Michigan and barely be even with the Feds. I pictured the backhoe digging itself out of my future.

Depressed, I decided to pull out the big guns, the magnifiers. I quickly discovered that many of the 3s were actually 8s, the 2s were 5s, and 0s, 8s, and 6’s were freely interchanged. In one blank, I’d even entered the letter “l” rather than the number 1. Whoever heard of having L exemptions?

With my eyes red and tired, to the point of tears running down my cheeks, I put all the tax papers back in the envelop, placed them on the dining room table, and will call to make an appointment with the tax preparer on Monday. Stay tuned, I might have that backhoe paid for… or I could be standing out alongside Pentoga Road selling pencils to the two neighbors who pass by daily so we might afford a few crusts of bread to go along with our water.

Page Four

What to have for supper? Who says summer’s not here? Sargie was home early and to celebrate the beginning of her vacation, I grilled pork loins outside accompanied with baked potatoes, and a garden salad. Chocolate pudding topped with whipped cream and caramel sauce completed dessert. For an hour last night, we had a taste of summer though the thermometer showed the temperature was well below zero.

Today. I’m not at all sure what today will bring. The next nine days belong to Sargie. The girl is officially on vacation and other than doing my university work, I have no plans. I think we’re going to Marquette on Sunday to visit Cale, Macrea, and Mel. Rhinelander might be in the offing for early next week and a swing through central Wisconsin appears to be on the horizon.

 All, I really know for certain is that my coffee cup is empty. Time to pry myself from the chair for a refill.

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

So are the tales from Pentoga Road… 

It took longer to get to the grill than it did to cook the pork loins.