A real life composite of summer and fall. Looking at the forecast, it appears fall is going to prevail in the very near future.

October 7, 2016 - Friday

60 degrees/cloudy/very windy

Pentoga Road

It appears a cold front is just off to our west and will be marching through at any time. Certainly our weather during the night indicated such. Heavy thunderstorms and rain pounded our area with another 1.3 inches sitting in the rain gauge that wasn't there when we went to bed. That makes almost two inches, total, that has fallen over the past thirty-six hours. 

I see on radar that there are snow showers in northern Minnesota. I hope they stay there, but with the weatherman saying our high for today is to be in the mid forties, I'm not overly optimistic. Oh well, we live in the Upper Peninsula where men are men and so are the boys... well, they are supposed to be, but with this new gender-bending stuff, who knows?

Friday was a good one on Pentoga Road. I returned home from Iron Mountain after stopping at the freight depot to get the new log splitter.

I felt quite manly pulling into a bay where several trailers were being loaded. When the man driving the fork lift came with my log splitter on a pallet, he said it wouldn't fit inside the Blazer. I told him it would. I was right.

Hey, I'm the guy who hauled an entire 10x28 ft storage building inside that Blazer, one board at a time. I know the dimensions well.

It didn't take long to unpack the splitter and I had it running within minutes.

I put hardwood, maple and birch, through the thing, along with softwoods like spruce and popple. It split everything effortlessly and so far, I'm well pleased.

Yooper Brother Mark accused me of buying a toy, but then he's the kind of guy who associates size with performance. We'll see who gets the last laugh on this one.

Thursday wasn't about splitting wood, however. The goal for the day was to bring Sargie's delicate annuals in for the winter so they might live to see another growing season.

I began by pulling the geraniums and pruning each.

When I was finished with each plant, all that was left was a bit of new growth from this past summer. 

All the plants were placed in a tote and their roots barely covered with damp sand. They'll be placed under a grow light in the basement for the winter months.

I kept beets all last winter by storing them down the basement in sand. Last spring, I dumped the sand out into a pile and when I went to get some yesterday, I found that several of last year's beets had sprouted and were growing.

The ride back to the sand pile is beautiful this time of the year. The back trail is filled with yellows, oranges, and gold colors.

There are several trees that are absolutely brilliant.

Sargie's spikes, those yucca-looking plants, presented the biggest challenge. 

They had roots growing clear to China and partway back. Eventually, all were pried from the flower boxes and placed into wet sand.

So the day went, one flower at a time. I took a break and drove to town to drop off a couple of sorry-looking cabbages and potatoes at Yooper Mark and Sheri's, then stopped at the plant for a quick visit. The four of us are heading out for a Friday night fish fry tonight.

Sargie wasn't home until late as she had to close the Vision Center. Thankfully, she has today off.

With this weather the way it is, I'm not sure much of anything will be accomplished. I had hopes of moving both giant pumpkins out of the garden, but unless the wind calms down a bit and the rain ceases, none of that will happen. I have to take the fence down to get the tractor to the pumpkins and am not keen on doing that in the rain and wind. 

No doubt, at some point, we'll go for our ride and who knows, maybe we'll end up celebrating winning the Publisher's Clearing House Sweepstakes. As Sargie is quick to point out, someone has to win, it might as well be us.

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

So are the tales from Pentoga Road...

The harvest has begun. These are small winter squash that seem to be particular favorites of Sargie and the Milligan sisters.

October 6, 2016 - Thursday

39 degrees/clear skies/calm winds

Pentoga Road

The harvest may have started on Wednesday, but it didn't last long past noon before the latest monsoonal rains came blowing through and ended what had been a productive day in the garden. Six-tenths on an inch of water landed in the rain gauge, adding to the eight-plus inches of surplus we've already received this year, mostly in the past three months. 

Wednesday began with the usual walk. I must be getting back into some kind of shape as I don't notice Heartbreak Hill and a couple of the others that used to be considered quite strenuous. I have five pound ankle weights and will strap them on in the near future. Now THOSE will make my heart rate rise considerably. 

A lone sugar maple in Neighbor Mike's field is brilliant year after year.

The rest of the morning was spent in the garden. The sunflowers are fun to grow and beautiful and impressive when in full bloom, but are they ever a pain in the rear to pull/pry/dig after the growing season is over.

Some of the bases are over 8 inches across and it requires a shovel and pry bar to remove them, roots and all. There are just three left to dig and I can chalk the sunflowers off my list. The zucchini plants were pulled and the cucumber vines and old fruits removed from the trellis.

It's always fun to wade into the maze of vines and see what has grown over the summer months. Case in point are the small orange/red winter squash. I have no idea what they are called as the company sent me the wrong seed three years ago and since, I've simply saved a few seeds to plant for the next year. Whatever they are, they sure are productive.

I called it a day once the rain started falling. There's still another week's worth of digging, cleaning, and harvesting, left before I can tuck the garden in for the upcoming winter months.

My sons will never let me live this down, but I ordered a small electric wood splitter ten days ago. The unit was on clearance from Grizzly Tools and after reading multiple reviews on Amazon and other online sites, I decided to order one. It made it to Michigan in record time then has been sitting in a warehouse since.

When alive, my Grandpa Pennington, and later, my sons and I, have all taken a certain pride in our abilities to swing a twelve-pound mall and split what firewood we've needed by hand. We laughed at those sissies with mechanized splitters and wondered how we were so fortunate to end up with genes that allowed us to work up cords and cords of wood hour after hour without a break. 

Yeah, well, Grandpa didn't have no dummy for a grandson. My back, the one that I broke in the arctic years ago, has been telling me that's it time to move into the 21st Century. When the splitters came on clearance, I bought one. 

I called UPS freight yesterday, asking where my splitter was, and found that they had the wrong telephone number so they couldn't deliver it. The machine's been sitting in Iron Mountain for the past week. I told them I'd be over this morning and take delivery.

With that in mind, I drove over last night, met Sargie, and rode home with her. She had a beautician's appointment after work, so I went to Home Depot and window shopped until she was finished.

Last evening was spent watching programs we'd recorded on the DVR, fast forwarding through the commercials. 

Wha' choo talkin' 'bout Willis?
A perfect picture, except that should be a Chicago Cubs bonnet Ivy's wearing.

It's going to be a busy next few days on Pentoga Road. Suddenly, with cold and freezing weather in the forecast, there are spuds to be dug, flowers to be moved to the basement, wood to split, equipment to winterize, a new window to install in the shop, and the list goes on and on. If only you had my life, but then as we all know...

My experiment of having pole beans grow up the giant sunflower stalks was only partially successful. I waited too long to plant the beans and they suffered from lack of sunlight due to the flower's huge leaves. I'll plant both at the same time next spring. Still, I gathered a few for Sargie yesterday.

A man's work is never done.

So are the tales from Pentoga Road...

A big GOOD MORNING goes out from grandson, Bennet, who turned 8 months old on Tuesday

October 5, 2016 - Wednesday

60 degrees/cloudy/windy

Pentoga Road

... and Ivy wishes everyone the same

I slept until the alarm rang this morning which means my fingers have shifted into overdrive resulting in lots of typos. With mistakes comes frustration. Ah, it's hard to be the captain of this highly coordinated vessel that I call my body. 

Speaking of frustration, I had my share yesterday. The walk went well and I enjoyed the cooler temperatures and beautiful leaves. The colors are still not in their prime, but many trees are turning.

Once home, I hopped on the rider mower and mowed for a few feet before the deck belt fell off. What the heck?

I brought the machine back to the barn and spent twenty minutes threading the belt back through the pulleys and began again.

The same thing happened only this time, one blade fell off.

I'm not sure how the blade became loosened as I specifically remember tightening both earlier this summer when they were sharpened. The belt was worn beyond use, so I had no choice but to man-up and drive to town for a new one. It all came out well in the end and the lawn and front meadow were mowed, hopefully for the last time this season.

With all the rain that's fallen this summer, I've spent more time on the riding mower than ever before. The yard is still a deep dark green and looks more like late spring than fall.

I began putting away the deck goodies for the year. The large area patio rug was rolled and wrapped as were the cushions for the outdoor furniture. All were placed in the storage shed.

A bit of time was spent in the garden. I brought a larger pumpkin and a Hubbard squash around to the front for decoration. Each weighed in the fifty pound range so the wheel barrow came in handy.

I started to watch the Vice Presidential Debates last night, but quickly grew tired of watching Tim Kaine whine and repeatedly interrupt Mike Pence. I ended up watching the movie Titanic on Netflix. I've seen it several times and the ending hasn't changed a bit.

Sargie had to close the Vision Center and wasn't home until well after nine. She opens this morning, but closes again on Thursday before having Friday off.

Supper last night consisted of the last of Sargie's homemade chili liberally sprinkled with Pentoga Road pickled jalapeno peppers. Mmmm.

I'm going for my walk this morning then depending on the weather, begin cleaning out the garden or if rain is falling, will play in the shop. No doubt, I'll take time to think some deep thoughts and ponder the weight of the world. It's what I do.

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

So are the tales from Pentoga Road...

October 4, 2016 - Tuesday
51 degrees/partly cloudy/calm winds
Pentoga Road

I was up very early this morning with an itch to get outside. We had a light frost the night before last, although certainly not a killing one, but enough that I can begin to bring in the fall crops and store them away for the upcoming winter months.

I remained in bed for well over an hour simply thinking. Not only do the squash and other vegetables need to be packed away in the basement, but Sargie's flowers have to be planted in shallow sand and placed under grow lights for the next six months. We save about five hundred dollars each spring by doing so, but it's a chore to haul them from one place to the other, then keep them tended all winter long. The next two weeks are going to be busy ones. 

Monday started off with a big, fat, fizzle. It was cold in the house so I turned up the thermostat on the furnace. The motor jumped to life, then quit. The reset button was pushed producing the same results. I'm going to have to call the furnace man. The heating unit is an old beast, but according to the furnace technician, it's not in bad shape. 

Well, of course, he'd say that. He makes $75 each time he comes out and turns a knob or makes an adjustment. I need to buy a new, efficient, propane furnace, but there's just one little obstacle... money. Our intentions are to have a new unit installed at the same time we add the bedroom/bath on the first floor. For now, I'll pay the $75 and we'll make do. It's not difficult since we use wood as our main heating source. The only time we need a furnace is when we go away for a weekend or our yearly week long winter getaway.

Monday was a gorgeous day in the UP.  We awakened to find a light frost coating everything, but once the sun rose, the temperatures climbed into the mid 60's with sunny skies and little wind. 

Fog lifting from a local beaver pond

Grady awakened early and was calling to Grandma Sargie to come rescue him from his bed. After a quick breakfast and bath, Hambone was ready to ride back to Iron Mountain with Sargie where she dropped him off at home before going on to work.



After my morning walk, I decided it was too nice a day to stay home. Time to go fishing!



It began with plenty of excitement. Four nice bluegills were in the fish basket within the first five minutes. 



With the cooler weather, I changed from using all artificial lures to the good old-fashioned bobber and worm. 

Unfortunately, what God giveth, He can taketh away. After a dozen or more fish had been caught, they quit hitting. 



I wasn't daunted and remained out on the pond, floating and fishing, mostly soaking up a lot of fresh air and sunshine. When my head began to nod, I knew it was time to come home.



The remainder of the afternoon was spent being lazy. I watched some television, played with Brutus, fed Jimmy, but mostly, I sat in front of the barn with the back of my head resting against the wall. My eyes kept closing as my body absorbed the heat from the late afternoon sun. Seems as I get older, that old lawn chair outside the door of the barn is becoming one of my favorites. I used to laugh at the old men who sat for hours at the feed mill in our home town. Most had hand rolled cigarettes dangling from their lips and all seemed content to simply sit in the sun and soak up the warmth, even on summer days. I'm beginning to relate.

Sargie had to work over last night. Once home, we watched Dancing With the Stars and called it a day. 

She closes tonight, so it will be another long one for her. I'm going to walk this morning then hop on the rider and mow the yard, meadows, and trails, hopefully for the last time this year. It's time to get ready for the cold months ahead.

Whoops, it's also time to get Sargie up for the day. There are barges to tote and bales to lift. 

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

So are the tales from Pentoga Road...

Grady's first ever fish - Splashed lens and all

 October 3, 2016 - Monday

36 degrees/clear skies/calm winds

Pentoga Road

That's right, PawPaw's new fishing partner appeared on Sunday in the form of a thirty-five lb dynamo. We received a phone call mid morning asking if we might watch Grady for the day. Macrea, Mel, and Sargie's oldest son, Cale, were replacing an old deck and it seems Grady wasn't a great deal of help. We agreed to meet them halfway between here and Iron Mountain for the Grady exchange.

There's nothing more fun than playing with one of Grandma Sargie's umbrellas.

I spent the first part of the morning installing the crisper drawer from an old refrigerator under the lathe bench in the shop. It was a jury rigged process at best, but it's functional. I wanted something in which to keep the various lathe parts together so one or the other wouldn't get lost.

We all met Grady halfway and made the exchange. When I mentioned that we might go fishing, his excitement level rose to off the charts. Though he had no idea what "going fishing" meant, he was ready.

It was a beautiful day and Ol' Hambone must have caught twenty bluegills on his first twenty tries.... all three and four inches long. 

Sargie and I knew a place where the small ones congregate and honestly, when a fisherman is two years old, who cares what size the fish are, as long as they bite!

We discovered a few of things yesterday on Grady's maiden fishing trip:

1) He's not afraid to try anything. Though he really doesn't like flopping fish and getting splashed, catching them doesn't bother him a bit.

2) PawPaw needs to learn to have more patience. It's been almost thirty years since I took a two-year-old fishing. 

3) It appears as though PawPaw is going to have a full time fishing partner in his old age. Grady wanted to do it all, cast, catch fish, go through the tackle box, put his own straw in the juice box, back the trailer with the boat into the water, etc. I told him to wait another year or two and I'd let him do all those things, all by himself, especially insert his own straw into the juice box.

So the afternoon flew by. We arrived home tired and happy. The fresh air had worn everyone out, so much so that the mere act of enjoying a peanut butter sandwich required too much effort.

Sargie and Grady will head to Iron Mountain this morning, Grady to his mommy's, Sargie to the Vision Center. I'm going to walk my five miles then I think I'll go fishing and see if I can't find a few bluegills big enough to bring home for a fish fry.

It's time to rock 'n roll. Baths have to be taken and Cheerios eaten before the Grady package can be loaded into his carseat and taken home.

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

By the way, we call my other half Saint Grandma Sargie. She's the good lookin' one with lots of patience!

So are the tales from Pentoga Road...

October 2, 2016 - Saturday

50 degrees/broken overcast/calm winds

Pentoga Road

I was relaxing in front of the barn Saturday afternoon when I heard, rather than saw, a frantic whirring followed by a light weight on my crossed leg. I instantly knew it was Jimmy the Chickadee who'd come home to roost.

He greeted me with a chirp, then promptly marched up my leg, continued across my belly, up my chest, and after brushing by my face, stopped on my shoulder demanding sunflower seeds. I eventually retrieved a handful to restore peace and quiet. The half pint chickadee was content to sit on my shoulder and eat, his feathers occasionally tickling my face and ear. 

It was good to see my old feathered friend. Jimmy and I hang out from October until the following May of each year and when he leaves in the spring, I wonder if I'll ever see him again. Though the Black Capped Chickadee can live for over a decade, Jimmy and I have already have a five year history. I like to think he was a youngster when we first met. 

Being adopted by a chickadee isn't without it's disadvantages. Jimmy has displayed some jealous tendencies, mostly towards Brutus, who could care less. He's landed on Brutus's back, his head, and even on his tail, chirping in an attempt to scare him into submission. The bulldog could care less. 

Jimmy's not slow in demanding attention, affection, or sunflower seeds. If I ignore him, he'll flutter around or land on my head in an attempt to batter me senselessly with his three inch wings. 

Over the years, Jimmy has become adept at nosing (beaking?) his way into my pockets looking for a snack. Last year, I was backing out of the drive when I discovered I had a bird in the pocket of my jacket. He's even been known to hitch a ride on my shoulder into the house... and back out just as quickly.

It's said the best things in life come in small packages. In Jimmy's case, it's a half an ounce of pure love and friendship. Welcome back, little buddy.

After the usual hike on Saturday morning, I installed the trim around the new kitchen door and mounted the wooden screen door.

I'm going to have to buy a new screen door next spring. The current one, an aging relic, is difficult to keep square, even with an adjusting rod. I think the door has banged shut a few too many times.

It took a while to put away all the tools used from Friday's installation. I think I had half the tools from the shop in the garage and am grateful that I have the little blue four-wheeler to serve as a mini pickup truck in which to haul everything.

The remainder of the day was very lazy. I dug some fishing worms and tiptoed outside after dark last night to pick up a few night crawlers. 

Potatoes were harvested from two pots, all Pontiac Reds. Those will be dropped off at Yooper Brother Mark and Sheri's when we go to town later today.

Sargie was home early last night and we had a quiet evening. She was a tired girl and fought to keep her eyes open long before bedtime.

One of the last doubled ruffled petunias I grew from seed early last spring. 

Sargie has today off. We've talked about going fishing and I told her I would sweep and vacuum all the floors and steps in the house. Other than a ride into town, I'd say anything is fair game.

Coffee's done. It's time to get this show on the road.

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

So are the tales from Pentoga Road...

Brutus was having a difficult time keeping his eyes open while waiting for me to go to bed. He's been known to topple over after falling sound asleep in a sitting position.

Look there, a new kitchen/garage door!

October 1, 2016 - Saturday

50 degrees/cloudy/calm winds

Pentoga Road

Where'd September go? I barely remember it and now those thirty days have come and gone.

I know for a fact that when one is about to cross over, his life does, indeed, flash before his eyes. It happened to me years ago while trapped in an ice cave in arctic Alaska with rushing chest deep water creating a hypothermic condition from which I didn't expect to escape, but that's a story for another time.

My point is, the month of September flew by, as did August, and July before that. My point? As fast as they flew, flashed by, at least in my memory, I hope this doesn't mean I'm about to cross over to the other side. 

The sun was on the other side of the fog Friday morning

Here's an FYI (For Your Information) of little significance. I read this once in a scholarly magazine, Field and Stream, Fish and Fur, or Popular Wood Working... one of those.

Remember as a small child, when a year seemed like a lifetime, but now that you're all grown up, a year is but a mere blink of the eye?

Stop and think about it. At age four, one year equals a fourth of an entire lifetime. The older one becomes, a year is just one of many, creating the illusion that time flies faster as a person ages. Boom. So there you have it.

Dang, I'm having some deep thoughts this morning and the day hasn't even started. Who knows, this could be the day I finally solve perpetual motion and/or cold water fission. 

Meanwhile, back to reality:

Friday began bright and early by spraying Round Up (weed killer) on the remaining strawberry plants. It's a total kill and honestly, I didn't feel like spending the next three days on my hands and knees pulling each and every plant out by hand. I saved enough for niece, Sasha, and ourselves, but the rest will die a peaceful and quick death. I'll replant before the ground freezes and they should be good to go next spring.

I walked the shorter route yesterday, just three miles, as I wanted to get home and begin installing the new kitchen/garage door.

What a project that turned out to be. Taking out the old door and frame wasn't too bad. I could see why it leaked air and made the kitchen so cold. There wasn't a bit of insulation or caulk around the frame. 

Poor Neighbor Mike came along at a bad time. He'd borrowed some gas and stopped to return a full jug. I asked if he might give me a quick hand in setting the new door and frame up into the opening.

When I rebuilt the new garage wall several years ago, I'd left a bit of a lip over the exterior frame trying to plug the areas that leaked cold air. 

When we attempted to put the new door in the old opening, we found that because of the lip, the space was too small by a few eighth's of an inch. 

The sawing and chiseling began.

The door is in, it's tight, and after squeezing two tubes of caulk, one can of foam, and stuffing no small amount of fiberglass insulation around the frame and entire area, I don't see how it can leak cold air this winter. After the trim is installed and the screen door hung today, I'll be able to cross that job off my things-that-have-to-be-done-before-cold-weather-arrives list.

Sargie was home early last night and opens today. I'm going for my walk then hope to finish the door and trim before noon. I'm thinking I may start to dig potatoes this afternoon. I'd like to get them out of the ground and into the basement before the next round of monsoons begin, sometime this next week. 

Speaking of next week, I see where forecast lows in the thirties will become the norm sooner rather than later. It's time to work on my ice shack in preparation for the upcoming ice fishing season. It'll be here before I know it.

But first, I need to get Sargie up for the day, refill this coffee mug, look at yesterday's pictures, and think some deep thoughts.

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

So are the tales from Pentoga Road...