Our newest addition to the house, a ten gallon aquarium

March 16, 2017 - Thursday

4 degrees/partly cloudy/calm winds

Pentoga Road

You know, this whole goldfish thing has developed into a real money pit. How did it all happen? 

If you remember, I had the little garden fountain and teeny pond alongside the greenhouse last summer. Well, what good's a pond if there aren't a few goldfish swimming around? I stopped by the pet shop in Iron Mountain last June and purchased several "feeder" goldfish, comets, for fourteen cents each. They are generally used as live meals for larger carnivorous aquarium fish. In fact, forty-plus years ago, I had a piraña in a large aquarium that inhaled inexpensive goldfish several times a week.  

Last fall, only one fish remained in the garden pond, Goldie. I wasn't sure what to do with him, but while deciding, Goldie was housed in a gallon ice cream bucket on the workbench in the garage. When the day arrived that I had to begin chipping ice off the surface of the container, I knew it was time to bring him indoors, something neither Sargie nor I particularly wanted to do.

An old vase used as a fish bowl was brought out of storage. It had housed Swam, Macrea's goldfish won at a county fair years ago. When Macrea grew up and moved off to college, Sargie was left as Swam's keeper, something she did for years until Swam went on to Goldfish Heaven while living here on Pentoga Road.

I was cleaning Goldie's vase (or Swam's bowl) earlier this winter when I accidentally cracked the side. I decided to purchase a five gallon aquarium. Of course, with that comes a filter, gravel, and other expensive goodies. I figured as long as I had a real aquarium, I might as well add a couple more goldfish. Enter Sargie (aka Spot) and Boop (sometimes known as Blackie.) The names depend on what mood Grady's in when he visits. Personally, I've called them far worse.

I didn't like that Goldie and Sargie were chasing Boop around the small aquarium, but they seemed to coexist and all was well in the fish world, until...

I walked in the house two weeks ago and found water covering the dining room floor. The five gallon tank had a leak.

The fish were placed into three, one gallon, ice cream containers, the aquarium emptied.

I stopped by the pet store last week and told them of the leak, that I no longer had my sales receipt, but regardless, I needed another fish tank. They agreed to replace the original aquarium at no cost, but were currently out of that size. I shrugged my shoulders and bought a small 2.5 gallon tank thinking that might suffice.

It didn't. Goldie and Spot chased Boop until he rolled over on his side in agony. Mad at the bullies, I removed them to their original ice cream pails and left Boop to recover in the lush, plush, but small, tank.

I stopped by the store in Iron Mountain yesterday with the old five gallon aquarium. They gave me full credit and thinking that a larger aquarium would end the bullying, I traded up to a ten gallon tank, thus the opening picture above.

There's a problem.

After releasing all three fish, it seems that Goldie and Spot are intent on killing Boop. Even with fake plants and plenty of room, they ram the bug-eyed blacker-than-midnight fish into a corner then pick on him until he rolls over. 

Boop spent last night in an ice cream pail sitting on the floor. That's not going to work. Brutus thinks it's his new watering bowl.

It appears Boop is destined for a solitary life sitting on the kitchen counter in the 2.5 gallon aquarium. Of course, with that comes another filter, more gravel, and all those other pretties that cost money.

We're going to stop by the pet store today and purchase more gravel and another filter so Boop can live a long and healthy life... and to think it all started with a few fourteen cent feeder goldfish destined for the garden pond.

After doing the juggling act with the goldfish and looking at a super colossal mess in the kitchen, I decided to add to it and plant more flower seeds. Potting soil was brought in, dampened, spilled, and finally, seeds were sown.

Perennials, cone flowers were planted in half the tray, ruffled hollyhocks in the other. Both should germinate within one to two weeks.

I'd earlier purchased a small DVD player and it was time to set it up.

Sargie's been after me to remove her component stereo system from the television cabinet where it's been used as a surround sound and return it back to the stereo cabinet in the dining room. That in itself is another long story, but I don't want to completely stop your heart with boredom.

Do you have any idea how many miles of cords and wires go along with an old fashioned component system? If they were made from fiber optic, I'm certain there're enough to run high speed internet clear out to Pentoga Road.

I cleaned, vacuumed, dusted, swore, sang, danced, and in the end, moved everything to it's proper place and even managed to successfully connect the new DVD player.

The house was a real mess. I'd given up any hope of getting into the shop when it became apparent that I needed to clean. If Sargie walked in and saw the complete chaos that had been created by the fish tank, planting flower seeds, and moving the stereo system, I'd be permanently banned to Brutus's house with no hope of ever coming inside again. Facts had to be faced. I was a house husband confined indoors by a set of invisible chains that were fastened to the dust rag, broom, and vacuum sweeper. 

As long as I had to clean, I figured I might as well do the laundry too, three loads worth. 

So the rest of the day was spent cleaning with music blaring in the background. 

I sang Stand by Your Man, with Tammy and almost tearfully crooned, Independence Day with Martina. Tiring of country, I switched gears and sang Dancing Queen with Abba into the handle of the broom (don't even go there, Scottie) and paraded around on the mental big stage, belting out Barry Manilow's, I Write the Songs.

Hey, for a while Wednesday afternoon, I was that sensitive guy.

The house was clean and the concert ended late in the day, just minutes before Sargie walked in the door. 

It was all worthwhile. My girl was happy that she won't have to spend today (her only day off this week) cleaning and doing laundry. In fact, we're heading to Iron Mountain this morning for a meeting then will, no doubt, stop by the pet store for a few added aquarium supplies. Might as well throw some more money into the goldfish pit. Hopefully, Boop can live in peace. Who knows, maybe we'll find another black goldfish to co exist with him so he's not quite so lonely.

Okay, it's time to do something productive. I don't know about you, but I've about put myself to sleep reading about yesterday. 

Hmm, there are a couple of hours before we have to leave for Iron Mountain. Possible shop time? I think so.

After all, a man's work is never done, even if it means staying inside all day cleaning house.

So are the tales from Pentoga Road...

Not all of us were cleaning. There's a lot of warmth in that early spring sun.

That's one of my former students from Maine, Andrew Cyr, climbing a mountain in the Delta Range of Alaska.

March 15, 2017 - Wednesday

zero degrees/clear skies/calm winds

Pentoga Road

I'll admit, I'm a bit jealous when I see a picture of Andrew climbing and hiking in Alaska. Seems I ought to be there beside him.

Somewhere, I've got a picture of myself and another person, the local high school math teacher in Kotzebue at the time, scaling a similar mountain in the Brooks Range. The snapshot above sure brings back a lot of memories.

Andrew was a student of mine from sixth grade through high school in northern Maine. We got to know each other on a more personal level when we both enrolled in the Maine Guide's course, a full year of classes and testing to become licensed guides.

When I was living at my cabin north of Kotzebue, Andrew transferred from the University of Maine to the University of Alaska - Fairbanks, the same university for whom I taught at the time. Since I was teaching and traveling out of my cabin, 600 miles from Fairbanks, I never got to see him.

Currently, Andrew is completing work to earn his PhD. In his spare time, he competes in some very strenuous ultra adventure marathon type competitions. Regardless what he is doing, Andrew makes his old teacher proud.

While I'm talking about adventures, check out this video of Neighbor Mike feeding some sort of spooky parrot-looking bird in New Zealand. 

It looks like a cross between a starving groundhog and a parrot, and something far far too horrible to talk about. The video makes me want to run outside and hug my little buddy, Jimmy, the chickadee, and all his little chickadee friends. Brave man, that Neighbor Mike!

Mike and Germaine are due to return to the UP at the end of the month. I've missed my good friend and part time neighbor. 

I skipped my usual walk Tuesday morning and drove to town for some needed paint. Once home, I worked in the shop, first painting the bunny rabbits, and meant to begin work on another pencil holder, except, I never did get to it.

There was still a piece of birch stock left on the lathe from Mom's pencil holder disaster on Monday. I hated to see that beautifully grained wood go to waste.

In the end, a bowl was made. I think it's one of the prettier ones I've turned.

I found another short scrap of birch from the same large limb. Having so much fun turning the first bowl, I decided to turn a second.

In the end, nary a pencil holder was turned, but there are two more bowls sitting on the dining room table that weren't there last night.

I removed the clear lid from the germination tray this afternoon and discovered that the petunias I planted several days ago are sprouting.

Some of my methods were changed for germinating the teeny seed from last year and at least so far, it appears I'm having better luck. 

I ran through the shower late in the afternoon and drove over to Iron Mountain so I could ride back with Sargie. She had to close and I hated to think of her driving home alone in the dark.

While at Walmart, I purchased an inexpensive DVD player. I have over a thousand movies and many Alaska videos I made over the years. After our old player died several years ago, it was never replaced. Hey, for $27, we can afford to have one sitting around should we want to watch an occasional movie or video.

Sargie opens this morning. I'll be riding with her then turning around and coming back home. 

On today's agenda:

I hope to hook up the DVD player and integrate it into the television/satellite system.

The rest of the flower seed needs to be planted, the hollyhocks, moss rose, and cone flowers.

Sargie's not only been sick for over a week, but she's working some ungodly hours. That laundry in the basement isn't going to wash itself.

If it finally gets above freezing, as forecast, the piece of polycarbonate paneling for the greenhouse that blew out in last week's wind storm needs to be put back and caulked.

Then there's the pencil holder. I found a piece of wood that should work well. Stay tuned. As I said previously, the third time's a charm.

Meanwhile, it's time to get this day underway.

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

So are the tales from Pentoga Road...  

Look at Ivy's new toy! I wonder if Andy's told her that it works better if she pulls her drawers down first?

This year's Pine Wood Derby participants in Iron River.
Yooper Brother Mark and Jerad help conduct the yearly Cub Scout competition.

March 14, 2017 - Tuesday

-8 degrees/clear skies/calm winds

Pentoga Road

You know what would taste good? A big, ol', gooey, warm, apple fritter! One, straight from the bakery that has just been glazed with sugary goo so thick that it would run down my fingers and drip onto the front of my shirt. 

I'm not usually a huge early morning eater, but this morning, I'm craving an apple fritter. 

Oh oh, you don't think I'm pregnant, do you?

Naw, that's silly. Everyone knows pregnancies cause a craving for pickles, not apple fritters. 

Whew, dodged a bullet there.

Check out this picture of three lynx crossing a road in northern Maine, not far from where Andy lives. It was taken on Monday.

Lynx were a rare commodity during my previous lifetime spent in Maine. Due to stringent regulations on trapping, their numbers have exploded in recent years and Lynx sightings have become common. 

They are common in Alaska and I marveled how large and beautiful the felines were, but was puzzled by their lack of intelligence. Sitting alongside the Noatak River, none made an effort to hide or move when I zipped by in a boat or on a snowmobile. 

Meanwhile:

Luke's been restoring my old Tundra, the one I purchased many years ago while living in Maine. He says it's almost back to like-new condition.

Coleman looks good sitting on his Grandpa's sled!

My Monday morning walk was cold, but invigorating. 

I didn't see any lynx, but spotted these coyote tracks leading across the road in front of our house. 

The rest of the day was spent in the shop where the Easter cross was finally finished. In retrospect, I found that the simple background was as difficult as the actual piece. Don't ask me why, it shouldn't have been.

I concentrated on the Easter bunny piece for most of the morning and part of the afternoon. Cutting letters out of thin veneer didn't seem to work very well, so I found a piece of left over laminate flooring that was almost perfect.

The bunnies, eggs, and all, will be painted a powder blue, the lettering kept the natural color.

Mom wants a pencil holder. My first attempt last week fell apart in pieces. I decided to use the same spalted birch for a second try. 

The grain and design are beautiful, some of the prettiest I've worked with.

 Problem is, it's old and pithy. Once turned, sanded, lacquered, and finished, it's fine. The problem lies in getting there. 

After last week's failure, I was careful, really careful. The bottom wasn't as even as I'd have liked. Just one more touch, a bit of chisel work.

I should have quit while I was ahead. Who looks at the inside bottom of a pencil holder anyway?

I was trying to remove that nub that can be seen in the middle.

Mama would have definitely washed my mouth out with soap Monday afternoon. No doubt, she'd have also administered a few swats to my backside had she heard the descriptive explicatives that spewed from my mouth. 

I simply turned off the lights and heat and came in the house where I spent the next half hour in a pout that bordered a good old-fashioned, hissy fit. 

Even sixty years after childhood, I can still hear Mom's words of admonition... 

"If you stick that lower lip of your's out any further, you'll trip over it." 

I no longer liked my shop, hated the lathe, was tired of the sawdust that covered my clothing. I'd show that birch who was boss. 

Why, I'd grab Sargie and we'd run away to my cabin north of the arctic circle, six-hundred miles off the road system. If anyone from the Discovery Channel happened along, we'd throw rocks and tell them to go home. We'd live happily ever after with the lynx and the moose and the caribou. Uh huh, that's what we'd do. At least they understand me. 

Failing that, I threw another log on the fire and plopped down in the recliner.

Brutus was in a good mood and wouldn't leave me alone. Couldn't the pup see that I was eating a handful of cashews and attempting to drown my wood turning sorrows with a bottle of flavored, carbonated, water? The bulldog just wouldn't quit.

I looked at the pup who had his bushel basket-sized head resting on my lap and finally agreed to go outside.

God gives us what we need when we need it. He evidently knew I needed the company of a big, ol', not always very bright bulldog. Brutus's good mood was infectious. 

It wasn't long before my four-legged buddy had me laughing and chasing him around the yard. 

Life once again looked pretty perfect on Pentoga Road and I fell back in love with my lathe and shop. 

It was still daylight when Sargie pulled in the drive last night. For the next six months, her journeys home from work will largely be completed before the sun sets.

I say that, but Sargie closes tonight. It will be a dark drive for her.

I'll do my usual walk this morning then go to town and purchase a can of bunny rabbit powder blue spray paint. 

Once home, I'll return to the shop. I have one piece of raw spalted birch ready to clamp onto my beloved lathe. 

It's said that three's a charm. I sure hope so. If not, I'll be out in the woods with my chain saw looking for the perfect limb. It's easier than running away to Alaska.

Mom will get her pencil holder made from birch. Oh yes, by all that's holy, the pencil holder will be her's.

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

So are the tales from Pentoga Road...

A white-breasted nuthatch

Holly and Ross's grandchildren... and our great nieces.
Aubrey, Marley, Piper, Brielle

March 13, 2017 - Monday

12 degrees/snow showers/breezy

Pentoga Road

What baby dolls, eh? Those four girls are enough to make anyone smile and they so full of life. Ashley, Brielle and Piper's mama, sent the picture last night. Thanks, Ash.

Aubrey is doing just fine, thanks to those who have asked. Ross told me a couple of weeks ago that you'd never know she had any health issues a month ago. God does, indeed, work miracles and little Aubie Ann (as she once referred to herself) is one of them.

Speaking of children and grandchildren, ol' Coleman placed third in a wrestling tournament this past weekend. He lost his first match, but won his last three for yet another medal.

The Maine State finals are coming up in the next week or two and it appears Coleman is ready. I wonder if Luke is entertaining the thought of building a trophy room onto their home, one to house all of Coleman's wrestling medals. Big sister, Abigail, will be starting the softball season fairly soon, where she is just as impressive in her sport.

Sunday was a sunny, but chilly day. I rode with Sargie five miles towards Iron Mountain and was pleasantly surprised how easy the walk back home was. After a week's break, it's sometimes challenging to physically get back into the rhythm of distance walking, but yesterday presented few problems. I plan to do three miles today.

The rest of the day was spent in the shop. I was more than a bit frustrated by bad cuts, some lousy turning, sanding too much or not enough, etc. etc. Some days are diamonds, others are coal. I mined plenty of coal on Sunday afternoon. 

Today's a brand new beginning. 

I began work on this fun little Easter Bunny display

Sargie was home early last night and we enjoyed leftovers for supper. She's continuing to mend from last week's bout with the flu, but still suffers from headaches, something I'm told is a symptom of this particular strain. 

Sargie painted a new dolly last night, one I turned from the hickory that Yooper Brother Mark brought from his plant in Kentucky. 

Sargie says she doesn't mind painting the figures I turn so I'm thinking of making a few and placing them on Ebay. 

We've often talked how nice it would be to find a niche' where we could work together and make a bit of pocket/travel money.

Sargie opens the Vision Center this morning. I'll ride with her for a few miles before hoofing back home. With temperatures only in the low twenties and light snow falling, I'll be back in the shop today, hoping to make some diamonds from that pile of coal I mined yesterday.

Meanwhile, it's time to get Sargie up for the day, pour that all-important first cup of coffee, and hey, I'm feeling almost spunky! Who knows, a deep thought or two might be on the agenda.

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

So are the tales from Pentoga Road...

I stopped and watched a logger ply his trade while walking Sunday morning.

Despite the zero and below temperatures, the thoroughfare has opened up between two of our local lakes. Go beyond it and there's still two feet of solid ice.

March 12, 2017 - Sunday 

-1 degrees/clear skies/calm winds

Pentoga Road

I wonder if any research has been done on church attendance concerning the Sunday after clocks are adjusted to Daylight Savings Time? How many attendees wake up, shower, eat, get dressed, and arrive at church just in time to see everyone else walking out? 

Hmm, if you're Catholic, it makes a good case for attending Saturday night mass, doesn't it? 

I love Daylight Savings Time. Every now and then, a rogue congressman or senator thinks we should stay stuck on Standard Time. I agree we shouldn't turn the clocks back and forth, but why not stay with Daylight Savings Time all year round? If one has ever lived in the North Country, he realizes the value of an extra hour of evening daylight. A setting sun at 3 PM makes for a mighty short winter day.

Meanwhile, I'll simply enjoy the extra hour of evening daylight right up to November 5th when we'll once again set the clocks back and ready ourselves for another season of hibernation.

For whatever reason, Saturday was a day of discovery. St. Anthony must have awakened in a really good mood.

I found the section of decorative fence that's been missing since late last summer when a deer inadvertently stepped into it and dragged it away.

I was walking across the road to get yesterday's mail when I spotted it lying in the ditch by Neighbor Mike's fence. It appears that when the deer went to jump over the barbed wire, he left the decorative piece behind. Mystery solved.

Later in the day, Brutus and I were walking through the deep woods when he spotted the missing polycarbonate panel that was blown out of the greenhouse during last week's windstorm.

The pup was a few feet ahead of me when he stopped to sniff something. Sure enough, it was the panel.

Though a bit worse for the wear, I'll caulk the few small holes and put it back in the greenhouse where it should suffice until a replacement panel can be ordered.

Another discovery of not such a positive nature was finding that the wind took down a limb to which part of our clothesline was fastened.

It appears as though I'm going to have to restring the line so we don't end up hanging our clothes on the ground. I think that would kind of defeat the purpose of washing clothes in the first place.

I was in the shop for a few hours Saturday morning, mostly working on the Easter piece.

The base was turned on the lathe from a piece of scrap maple that was originally destined for the wood stove. 

The front needs to be permanently attached to the background with a bit of sanding and a few coats of poly applied, but basically, this Easter centerpiece is finished.

Sargie has a shortened day at the Vision Center today, working from twelve to five this afternoon. I'll ride with her a few miles down the road and walk back. Since Sargie's been sick, I've slacked off the exercise, opting to take an afternoon walk through the woods with Brutus rather than alongside the road. This chubby body needs me to hike rigorously a few miles daily to keep all the parts working. 

Other than that, I'll no doubt end up in the shop after lunch, doing what I do best this time of year... taking a good, old-fashioned, Sunday afternoon, Grandpa nap in the recliner.

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

So are the tales from Pentoga Road...

There seems to be a bumper crop of squirrels this year. Numbers 7 and 8 were caught yesterday, but in his excitement to help, Brutus knocked the trap over and allowed one to escape.
Last year saw a record catch, twenty-four squirrels. We're already well on our way to beating that number this spring. I've set my personal goal at a rather lofty fifty.

I'm confused. If Friday was the first day of gardening season, why does the thermometer only register 0 degrees?

March 11, 2017 - Saturday

6 degrees/cloudy/windy

Pentoga Road

The cold and wind continue to make their presence known. This spring is shaping up to be identical to last year's. We had a fairly mild to normal winter, then when it was time to kiss the cold and snow goodbye, cold temperatures and snow persisted well into May. Oh well, it is what it is and ain't nobody gonna change it. We'll just keep throwing logs at the wood stove.

Unable to work in the shop without heat, I drove to town first thing Friday morning to purchase a new propane unit. I talked with my friend, Charlie, at the hardware store and she said customers seldom complain about the heaters going bad. I must have been the lucky person to get a lemon. So far, the new heater has worked like a charm.

The rest of the morning was spent in the shop, painting the recessed part of the alphabet puzzle and working on the Easter piece. With such fine detailing, even wearing heavy magnifiers, I work for a few minutes, then move on and do something else, then come back and work some more. It's coming.

We received a phone call Friday morning from my sister, Barb. Mom's been having some abdominal problems and tests show she has a fast growing mass in her colon. Mom is scheduled for surgery a week from next Tuesday, the 21st. 

From what I understand, the doctor will simply take out the mass, then sew the two ends of the colon back together. Knowing Mom, she'll be back to leading her girl gang around the seniors complex in no time.

I'm planning on driving to Terre Haute, Indiana, on the 20th, a solo road trip! Most of the five hundred miles will be navigated on four lane highway and since I detour far from Chicago, traffic is generally fairly light. 

I'll plan on staying a week or so, until Mom can't stand me any more, gives me the boot, and tells me it's time to go home. While she's recuperating in the hospital, I'm fully planning on having wild and unadulterated parties in her apartment, running with her girl gang (ages 80's and 90's) and sitting around the dining room table with the girls, enjoying the superb cooking the dining room offers. I'm thinking of this as, probably, my last solo road trip, a vacation from retirement. 

Back to reality, Mom is really upbeat and as she said, she made it through double bypass, open heart surgery, at the age of 87, she can do this two years later. She certainly can!

Yes, indeed, the gardening season did officially kick off Friday afternoon.

While retrieving the potting soil from the greenhouse, I noticed a polycarbonate panel was missing from the roof.

I guess we didn't escape the severe winds of the past several days quite as well as I'd originally thought and made a mental note to search for the panel in the woods after the flowers seeds were sown.

Even indoors, the extreme cold presented a problem or two with the opening of gardening season. The new bag of potting soil, kept in the greenhouse, was frozen solid.  I had to use a spoon to scrape what was needed from a rock hard chunk and my hands got so cold that gloves were needed. Hmm, not a very good start to a warm weather activity.

The next problem dealt with the size of the double ruffled petunia seeds.

There were thirty five seeds per package and I'd purchased three packages. Each seed was no bigger than a grain of sand. If measured in size and weight, I didn't get an excessive amount of bang for my buck.

With the soil finally warmed and prepared and the seeds evenly broadcast (I hope), the tray was placed on a heating (germination) mat in the indoor greenhouse. Since petunia seeds require light for germination, a grow light was suspended overhead. 

Now we wait. It took from a week to three weeks for the seeds to germinate last year. 

Brutus was driving me crazy. He followed in my every footstep and seemed ready to pounce at a moment's notice, something the hundred-pound doormat is not known for.

With a wagging tail and yips of a much younger puppy, he bounded out the back door ahead of me.

We first played fetch then we began scouring the woods looking for the greenhouse panel.  It was like looking for a needle in a haystack and we never found it. I'll order a new one online today.

Another tree down. Several more were discovered lying on their sides Friday afternoon.

Once again, Brutus was the ultimate service dog, patiently leading me through the trees and often forgetting that low hanging branches present more of a problem for a big person than a dog. 

Sargie is continuing to recover from a severe bout of the flu, although she felt a bit worse yesterday afternoon. Thankfully, she has today to continue resting before resuming work from noon to five on Sunday.

I think today will be a repeat of the past several. I've already turned the heat on in the shop and plan to spend the morning out there. I've urged Sargie to stay in bed as long as she can. After fighting this terrible bug, her body needs as much rest as possible.

If she feels like it, we might make a trip to town later this afternoon, but otherwise, it's going to be a quiet day.

The shop should be warm by now. Time to grab a cup of coffee and head that direction.

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

So are the tales from Pentoga Road...

Alongside the cucumber trellis, the Sweet Williams (dianthus) flowers planted from seed indoors and transplanted into the garden last year, remained green all winter under the snow. They should bloom and self seed profusely this summer.