Mom, just moments before being wheeled into surgery on Tuesday morning

March 22, 2017 - Wednesday

32 degrees/partly cloudy/breezy

Terre Haute, Indiana

To begin with, on behalf of Mom, my sister, and me, I want to thank everyone for the outpouring of prayers, thoughts, and good wishes for Mom these past few days. If anyone ever doubts the power of prayer, all he has to do is look at yesterday's outcome. Mom will be 90 years old in June and she flew through major surgery like a twenty year old. Again, our sincere, deep, appreciation.

The trip to Indiana was an adventure, interspersed with occasional frustration.

Monday's sunrise in my rearview mirror just a few miles away from home.

I'd no more pulled from the drive when my cell phone rang. It was Sargie saying one of the front headlights was out on the Kia, the one thing I didn't check on Sunday.

Since I couldn't leave until it was light enough to see, I decided to continue on and have the light repaired later in the week in Terre Haute.

I tried to take in the sights along the way, but it's difficult while starring straight ahead at the highway.

The ski hill in Wausau, Wisconsin

I had more frustrations than difficulties and came to realize how much I've come to depend on Sargie. When we're together and I'm driving, she automatically points out where to turn, if there's something ahead of me, a sign, and continually gives me gentle gestures saying to get on my own side of the highway. Sargie's such a part of my life that I've forgotten what it's like to do all that on my own. 

Whew.

After driving past entrances, exits, failing to read multiple signs, and feeling a rumble strip or two as I veered out of my own lane, I quickly learned that I was on my own for this journey.  Absence isn't the only thing that makes the heart grow fonder, so does driving.

With over 175,000 miles showing on the odometer, the Kia ran flawlessly and gas mileage averaged around forty miles to the gallon. 

I arrived at Mom's late in the afternoon and we had a great evening just talking, sometimes about life, often about family.

Westminster Village - Mom's community

Mom was obviously thinking about the upcoming operation, one to remove the cancer that was growing in her colon. Knowing that Tuesday morning would begin at 4 AM, we went to bed early.

It was 6 AM, check-in time at the hospital. I was amazed to find Mom's minister and his wife waiting to see Mom. My sister and brother-in-law arrived soon after. 

We made nervous small talk and the clergyman's presence put everyone at ease. I think most of us had a case of the nerves, but we acted as though the coming operation was an everyday sort of happening. 

I've shown more fear before getting my teeth cleaned than I did Monday morning. 

Inside, I was a mess. 

Mom acted as though what she was about to go through was an everyday procedure. If one would have given her a six shooter, a cowboy hat, and a galloping steed, she could have led the charge into enemy lines. 

Poked and prodded, with tubes everywhere, Mom visited and smiled. Her biggest fear seemed to be someone might see her after the operation without her dentures. I saw her without them for the first time, ever, two years ago, when she had open heart surgery. We assured Mom her portable pearly whites would be well taken care of, along with her hearing aid.

Mom's a rock star at the hospital. Several professionals, including the anesthesiologist, stopped by, saying they remembered her from her heart surgery. This is no six room medical center, it's a sprawling complex. Mom cuts a wide swath.

At one point, one of the surgical team came in and asked Mom what kind of operation she was having.

Her response, "I've got cancer and you're going to get rid of it."

No fear, no tears, no outward nerves, no nonsense.

Damned the torpedoes, full speed ahead.

Mom was ready to ride into battle with guns blazing. 

And ride she did.

It was an hour into the operation when the phone rang with an operating room nurse saying everything was going as planned. She reported that Mom's vitals were normal and she was doing well.

It was after two hours in the operating room when the surgeon came to talk with us. He reported that the procedure went as he had hoped and that after examining the organs surrounding the cancer and taking out several feet of colon on each side of the growth, he was optimistic Mom was cancer free. We all breathed a sigh of relief.

Most of Tuesday afternoon was spent with Mom in her hospital room. She was given doses of morphine for pain as needed, but by last night, she told one nurse who offered to administer another, that though her abdomen ached, she didn't think she needed any more. That's my mom. 

As with the drive down, I managed to get lost (I prefer the term "misplaced") in the hospital, not once, but twice. Those hallways and rooms all look the same.

At one point, I walked into a room and found an old man lying in bed. THAT wasn't my mama!

Nurses are, by and large, very nice people. After asking directions, I finally found my way back.

I kissed Mom goodbye in the late afternoon with the promise I'd be back today. Though I wanted to stay longer it appeared as though she wanted to sleep. It was time for me to go.

I had supper with the girls last night. In the same manner as two years ago when Mom had her double by pass heart operation, (at the age of 87) friends stopped by the table to inquire how she was doing. 

I was invited to play cards last night, but I was simply too tired. My head hurt, my eyes ached, and my body was about done in. I came back to the apartment with the intention of taking a shower and going to bed.

What? It was just 6 PM? I couldn't go to bed that early. I'd be up at midnight for the day. For whatever reason, that made me mad. Really upset. What to do?

I felt my body tremble and sat down to feel sorry for myself. I do that well. 

Oh no. I hated what followed. The first tear slipped down my cheek. The second came soon after. The dam of emotion burst and flood waters poured through.

Mom may lead the charge with six shooters blazing, but she still has a little boy who needs his mama. The frustration of the long drive and worry for Mom let go in a flood of tears. I cried. No, I sobbed. What ever happened to that rough, tough, fear-nothing, Alaska mountain man?

Finally drained, I decided to go for a walk. Simply walk. It's what I do best and what I enjoy the most. 

I'd walk the frustrations and fears of the past two days from my body. I'd walk in gratitude. I'd walk simply because I could.

Where to?

I hadn't seen Mom in the past two hours. With that, I hiked to the hospital where I found her awake and watching television. We had a short, but wonderful, visit and after a quick kiss and a few "I love you's," I made my way back to the senior's complex exhausted, but relaxed and mentally and physically ready for a good night's sleep. Mom was going to be okay.

I awakened this morning at six rarin' to go. Mom only drinks decaf coffee so I had to go prowling the complex for some high octane stuff. I found it on the first floor and filled my travel mug to the brim. 

Since Mom will be occupied this morning with getting a bath, a change of dressing, and all that hospital stuff, it'll be later before I visit. I brought my hiking boots and will strap those on fairly soon and take off to explore Terre Haute, Indiana. Indiana State University is located two or three miles to the north. I may walk up there and look around. There is a large mall a half a mile from here. Sargie would wring my neck if I didn't at least make some pretext to find a clearance table. 

Walking isn't nearly as rural here as in the UP

So with that being said, it's time to get ready for the day.

Again, thank you for your support. Though I don't personally know all of you who read this, I do know it was you, the family of readers, who helped pull Mom through this very major operation. God bless you.

OK, enough of that sensitive stuff. Hey, I'm the rough, tough, fear-nothing, Alaska mountain man. I have a reputation to uphold, you know.

Think I'll ask Mom if I can polish one of her six-shooters. Maybe some of that toughness will rub off on me.

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

So are the tales from Pentoga Road... by way of Terre Haute, Indiana...

It was a stressful day for my brother-in-law, John, who hates to have his picture taken.
Hey, you snooze, you lose.

March 21, 2017 - Tuesday
48 degrees/cloudy/breezy
Terre Haute, Indiana

It's very early in the morning here and we'll be leaving for the hospital shortly.

Other than missing a few entrances, mostly seeing exactly where to turn for interstate on-ramps after getting gas, the trip was without any problems. I didn't realize how much I depend on Sargie for navigation and to point out exactly where to turn, so I found myself driving past an entrance, then having to turn around and try it again. Driving through busy Terre Haute at rush hour also was dicey.

Mom is doing great. We've had some wonderful conversations and she's ready for her procedure. Yesterday was a challenge for her, simply because of the preoperative beverage she was required to drink. She's had nothing to eat since Sunday evening and seems to be more thirsty this morning than hungry.

So, with that being said, we'll be on our way to the hospital where we'll meet my sister and brother-in-law. Thank you again for your thoughts and prayers. 

Tom

A last minute check of the fluids and walk around of the Kia. It's ready to go.

March 19, 2017 - Sunday evening

35 degrees/partly cloudy/calm winds

Pentoga Road

I thought I'd better write tonight, otherwise it could be a day or two before I get the chance.

We just arrived back home from the annual St. Patrick's Day feast at the Catholic church in Iron River.  

Sargie's going through the line. Corned beef, potatoes, cabbage, carrots, and rutabagas were on the menu.

We met Yooper Brother Mark and Sheri. Jerad and Jenna also joined us.

Jerad's in the red cap, Jeanna to his right.

We ate like little piggies and honestly, Sargie and I are both still uncomfortable. At our age, you'd think we'd have enough sense to know when to stop eating, but a great meal like the one tonight only comes along once a year.

Today was a mishmash of activities. I began by cutting the bush that has grown by Brutus's doghouse to ground level. He occasionally wraps his chain around it and Sargie was afraid he do so during the day and be forced to stay out in the weather until she arrived home. 

I played in the shop for a couple of hours this morning trying to turn another Easter egg from birch.

I've come to the conclusion that birch isn't a good wood from which to make eggs. I failed yesterday and today was no better.

The wood was spinning when suddenly, it flew off the lathe directly at me. 

Like it or not, future eggs will be turned from either cherry, maple, or some other hard wood.

I spent time making Sargie's lunches for the next week to ten days. Fourteen peanut butter and jelly sandwiches were assembled and wrapped.

All, except for tomorrow's, were put in zip lock sandwich bags and placed in the freezer. She only has to get one out each morning before she leaves for work. It will be thawed and ready to eat well before lunchtime.

I'm packed and ready and hope to leave around 6:30 in the morning or as soon as it's light enough to see. I should arrive at Mom's sometime late in the afternoon.

Poor Brutus knows something is up. He's stuck to me like a cheap wet t-shirt today. It's going to be a bit lonely for the overgrown puppy this next week or two.

It's time to finish and pack the computer in preparation for tomorrow morning's departure.

After that, I think there might be a bowl of ice cream in my near future before going to bed.

Though nothing came of them, angry looking clouds came blowing through late this afternoon.

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

So are the tales from Pentoga Road...

Looks like someone got caught with his hand in the cookie jar... or tongs in the corned beef.

A trip down memory lane from ten years ago
I snapped this early morning picture while sitting on the steps of the one-room school house in Edna Bay, Alaska

March 19, 2017 - Sunday

23 degrees/cloudy/calm winds

Pentoga Road

Edna Bay's entire school population
On the left is my student intern and the only teacher for the school. It was an on-the-job opportunity for the young man. He stayed for only one year.

Let's see, tomorrow at this time, I should be this side of Rhinelander, Wisconsin, heading south towards Mom's in Terre Haute, Indiana. 

The pre-trip check list ebbs and flows. Three things get crossed off, four are added. Who knew going on a simple trip could be so difficult? 

During my bush Alaska traveling days with the university, I kept an emergency tote packed along with another containing overnight items and heavy clothes.

My usual mode of transportation during the arctic years.
Model of snowmobile? A Tundra of course!

On the morning of departure, either on snowmobile, boat, or bush plane, I needed only to grab my toothbrush along with a few daily necessities. 

Getting ready to head out
Summer bush traveling attire, complete with the always present side arm.

I could occasionally hitch a last minute flight to one village or the other when a pilot would radio to the cabin saying he was overhead and would be landing on the river to pick me up, but only if I'd be ready to go. I never kept a pilot waiting.

This plane's coming for me during a blizzard. I waved my light so he would have an idea where to land. With heavy snow and wind, I'm not certain the plane ever completely stopped. I threw my pack in and scrambled aboard as he powered up and off we went.

It was no different in southeast Alaska where I'd be in one island community or the other waiting for a call from a pilot circling overhead, telling me it was time to go.

After all that, preparing to go to Mom's shouldn't be all that difficult.

Meanwhile, back on Pentoga Road:

I'm not sure what I did on Saturday other than fiddle around in the shop and then, what did I accomplish? Hmm, that's a good question.

I began by fashioning a large Easter egg and egg cup from birch.

It was okay in the end, but nothing Sargie (or anyone else) would care to have sitting around on an end table. The spalted grain on the bottom was absolutely gorgeous, but there was little on top. It more resembled a bald headed man precariously perched upon a bathroom throne.

Hmm, how to salvage something from a bald Easter egg. In the end, I cut the top part of the egg completely off and hollowed out a bowl. 

I would never have thought to have made a bowl this way, but I'm glad it happened. It was a new design (for me) and I had a fun day creating it.

I was cleaning up when I happened upon a three inch piece of wood with the tenon (used for fastening it into the chuck on the lathe) still attached. It was meant for the scrap pile, but maybe, just maybe, I could turn a small dish. Why not?

So Saturday was a fun day of simply playing in the shop, not making anything, really, but ending up with something. 

I managed to do some honey-do chores when I wasn't playing. There are more to do before I leave tomorrow. 

Sargie's off today and tonight, we'll be joining Yooper Brother Mark and Sheri for the annual St. Patrick's Day corned beef and cabbage feed at the local Catholic church in Iron River. It's one of our favorite meals of the year. 

I'll finish packing when we get home and hope to be on the road at first light Monday morning. 

Mom's procedure is scheduled for early Tuesday morning. Again, thank you to all who have written and offered prayers and support. They have come in from across the country and all around the world. When I told Mom of all the well wishes, she replied that she is truly grateful. 

I'll try to get something written Monday night, otherwise, it will be Tuesday evening, possibly Wednesday morning before any updates are published. 

I'm billing this ten to twelve hour drive as my last ever big solo road trip. After this one, all will be with Sargie at the wheel.

Let's see, I've got the shades, the tunes, and the long flowing hair to blow in the wind while zooming down the interstate with the top down. No doubt, the Christie Brinkley-types will zoom around me, flash a smile and purse their lips. 

Clark Griswold has nothing on me.

Being the true blue kind of guy that I am, I'll simply nod and smile. It's the way I roll. 

Oh, wait. Scratch that. I just had a Walter Mitty Syndrome moment.

In reality, I'll be the half bald old guy with bad posture whom everyone cusses at for going so slow, concentrating, staring at the road straight ahead, chugging down the interstate in the little Kia.  

Hey, don't knock it. I still have my cool sunglasses. 

Time to get this show on the road.

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

So are the tales from Pentoga Road...

It appears the wood and the weather are going to come out even. Perfect.

Grady (left) and his friend with no front teeth enjoyed a fun St. Pat's Day party at daycare. I've seen that look on Grady's face before. I bet Miss Fawn, the daycare provider, was a tired lady last night.

March 17, 2017 - Saturday

30 degrees/cloudy/calm winds

Pentoga Road

It appears that winter isn't going gently into the night, or day, or anywhere for that matter. We awakened to advisories Friday morning and by daybreak, a mixture of snow and rain was falling.

My feet went out from under me more than once during my walk, but I managed to recover in time to keep from falling flat on the ground. 

Spruce logs, harvested from a nearby wood lot, are stacked alongside the road.

Sargie said the primary roads were in fairly good condition, but our's were horrible. I think the county put the snow plows away sometime ago as there wasn't a one in sight, but that's a story for another time.

My former student of many many years ago, Matt Morin, sent a couple of pictures that need no explanation. 

Matt and family live in southeast Missouri where he teaches broadcast communications. He quipped that since I'm always feeding some sort of wild critter by hand, he wanted to share these pictures. Matt added this deer simply wandered in and is tame as a puppy dog.

Though I go to great efforts to keep the hoards of rampaging deer out of our yard and garden, I'm jealous. 

I had a pet moose named Mable while living in the Arctic Circle. Like Matt's deer, she simply showed up one day and within minutes, we were rubbing noses while I scratched behind her ears. I once called the local grocery on satellite phone, then rode my snowmobile seventeen miles to our local village, simply to purchase a bag of very rare and expensive carrots, not for me, but for Mable.

My beautiful moose stayed for two years before suddenly disappearing. I assume she was either shot or done in by wolves.

The deer pictures bring back a lot of memories. Thanks for sharing them, Matt. 

With Easter approaching next month, it was time to step out of my comfort zone and attempt turning an Easter egg and stand, all from one piece of wood. In my case, it was wild cherry stolen from Neighbor Mike's stack of firewood. He's in New Zealand and wouldn't miss it anyway.

It was a bit of a challenge to remember exactly how an egg is shaped. I've cracked a million of them, but do you think I could get a hunk of wood to actually look like something an Easter bunny might deliver? Initially, my egg looked as though a ping pong ball had given birth. 

In the end, I walked back to the house, removed an egg from the carton, and simply stared at it. After that, my creation began to take shape.

The egg I'd seen turned on the internet had a ribbon with plenty of color. I needed to make dents and score around the middle. What to use?

I found a roller that is used to press the cord into a frame when replacing screen material on windows. 

It was originally perfectly round, but after a session with the grinder, the wheel resembled a gear, something that would create minute dents in the wood.

What to use for colors? Sharpies were suggested. I found several around the house.

NEVER turn a guy who can't see worth a darn loose with a fist full of Sharpies. How dumb is that?

I was less than pleased with my coloring efforts. That's why Sargie does all the artwork.

There will be more Easter eggs in my future and this was merely the first. Live and learn.

I needed to practice my egg-making skills. With an abundance of inexpensive cull 2x2 pine lumber, I cut off a piece on which to practice.

I purchased an entire bundle of 2x2 lumber, all rejects, from Home Depot for two dollars last month. They are worthless for construction, but cut into smaller lengths, are perfect for projects.

A piece was mounted and I began practicing some basic chisel skills.

The egg was coming along nicely when suddenly, something hit my face shield. It sounded like someone had fired a bullet directly at my head.

Thank God, I wear a face shield. The pine, a soft lumber, had cracked apart and flown through the air at lightening speed. I never saw it coming and hate to think of the damage it would have done to my eyes, teeth, or face, had I not been wearing adequate protection.

Not to be daunted, I removed the bad piece and began again. A new mini egg and stand began to emerge.

The last shop project of the day was to assemble and glue the Easter bunny rabbits. By afternoon's end, two eggs and a herd of bunnies were moved into the house.

The polyurethane caused the color to run when applied to the Easter eggs. I had to sand both eggs and reapply the color, something that was much easier to do the first time around. 

Sargie arrived home early last night from the Vision Center and it wasn't long before we were on our way to meet Yooper Brother Mark and Sheri for a fish fry. We were later joined by Jerad and Jenna and it was good to catch up on everyone's happenings. 

Sargie works late today and closes the Vision Center tonight. I have a few honey do jobs to finish this weekend before heading to Indiana Monday morning. I hope to make another Easter egg or two, then clean the shop from top to bottom. I'd hate to come home to a mess. 

With that said, it's time to get Sargie up so she can begin her day. 

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

So are the tales from Pentoga Road...

It didn't take long to clean yesterday's snow from the drive.

FINALLY, after three attempts, a pencil holder for Mom.

March 17, 2017 - Friday

28 degrees/cloudy/calm winds

Pentoga Road

I didn't know there were so many fish lovers in the world. Comments and fish stories have poured in about days gone by, most humorous, yet heartfelt. 

Strange, isn't it, how the lowly goldfish can evoke such feelings? 

I'm happy to report that Boop is housed in his own aquarium with a new friend, Grady, surrounded by a few minor mini garden pond variety goldfish. All seem to be doing well.

It began with one fourteen-cent goldfish and we now have two aquariums. Did I miss something along the way?

I migrated to the shop early Thursday morning after finding a perfect piece of birch in the wood pile.

Could I/should I/would I be able to turn Mom's pencil holder from this gorgeous hunk of tree?

Not wanting to take a chance of it breaking apart, I ventured outside the rules by turning the inside first so the outer thicker wall could support the pressure.

It took a bit of forethought to envision how I wanted the holder shaped while still working inside. The end result was removed from the lathe an hour later. Mom will have her pencil holder.

The final step is to separate the finished piece from the original  wood still attached to the lathe.

We had a late morning meeting in Iron Mountain so all shop activities were ended. After, we made our way to the pet shop where I purchased several more fish to fill both aquariums and another filter, some gravel, and all those other money-sucking objects that are needed for an aquarium. 

The day was beautiful and I decided to get a few early spring projects finished before today's forecasted snow/rain blows into the area.

The wind had taken the huge tarp off of one wood pile. With no breeze, it was a matter of dragging the covering over the top and weighing it down.

Next winter's wood supply

I also replaced the panel in the greenhouse that had been blown out by last week's windstorm. A new one is needed, but this will get us through the spring and into the summer.

As Brutus isn't allowed into the garden area, he waited patiently outside the gate. He's used to being at my side 24/7 and has a difficult time trying to understand why he must remain on the other side of the fence.

Along with our bed, furniture, or the cooking area in the kitchen, the garden is about the only place where he's not allowed.

The shadows were growing long, but the temperature warm when Sargie and I decided to walk to the lake and back, a trek of three miles.

Despite the recent nightly below zero temperatures, signs of spring are everywhere as evidenced by these popple buds alongside the lake.

Last evening was a quiet one. Sargie returns to work today, opens this morning, then closes Saturday. Sometimes life just doesn't seem fair.

I'm going for my walk this morning then return to work in the shop for the day. I've got a few requests for goodies to make so my day should be full. I like that.

It's time to throw another log on the fire and get this day on the road. First off, I need to feed the fish.

Hmm, I just had a thought, a question really. If a person slops hogs, does he also slop fish? 

I'm just throwing it out there. It's not even daylight and already, I'm thinking deep thoughts. If only you were me, you'd understand.

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

So are the tales from Pentoga Road...

Thankfully, Sargie decided to wait another couple of months before gracefully diving off the end of the dock.