BFF's, Hambone and Isabella

June 9, 2019 - Sunday morning

53 degrees/partly cloudy/calm winds

Pentoga Road

I just came inside a bit ago after spending a restful night in the tent with Grady. I was sound asleep when the sound of barking coyotes awakened me. Since it was getting daylight, between the coyotes and needing to heed Mother Nature's call, I decided to start the day.

Yooper Brother Mark has opted to stay in their tent with a sleeping Isabella. Grady's an old hand at this backyard camping stuff, so he can wander in on his own when he wakes up.

Mark and I have been texting back and forth. I think he's jealous that I'm inside sitting in a nice, comfy, recliner. 

Ah, Mark, sometimes you have to take one for the team.

 

The Bone and I started yesterday morning by working a bit in the yard and garden.

I subscribe to the John Smith theory of child upbringing. I know it's antiquated, but my sons learned the meaning of "no work/no play." 

Although John Smith's rule was no work/no eat, so I guess I've modernized a bit.

Hambone would have much rather remained inside watching cartoons or playing on the computer, but after having a man to boy talk, he joined me and we were soon weeding and planting away.

Next Thanksgiving's rutabagas have already sprouted and will soon need thinning. They came up in less than thirty six hours.

Work completed, it was time to think about play, lots and lots of play. Grady snagged my water bottle from my backpacking supplies.

Mark and Isabella came out late in the morning and after seeing Sargie off to work, we were soon packed and ready for an afternoon on and in the lake!

Kayaking gets really really old, Grandpa. WHY can't we just go swimming?

Swimming with the black labs

Back from swimming and after a good rest period, it was time to put up the tent for a night of camping in the back yard.

We had a wonderful evening. Sheri drove out from town, Grandma Sargie arrived home from work, and we enjoyed sitting around the campfire, roasting weenies and marshmallows and of course, making s'mores!

 This will be my last entry for several days as Macrea and I will be leaving VERY early Monday morning for Munising, Michigan, about two and a half hours away. We'll catch a shuttle at 8 AM to transport us to Grand Marais where we'll begin our forty two mile hike back to Munising. 

As it looks, we should be back in Munising Thursday around noon. If the weather turns bad, we could put in longer hiking days and finish sooner. No matter what, I'm looking forward to our stroll together along Lake Superior's shores.

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

So are the tales from Pentoga Road...

No more preschool for Hambone.
Next stop is kindergarten.

June 8, 2019 - Saturday morning

48 degrees/clear skies/calm winds

Pentoga Road

I'm up and at 'em, trying to get all correspondence done before the day begins. It promises to be a busy one.

Friday dawned sunny and warm. I was perched on the backhoe soon after Sargie left for work and managed to dig out another terrace on the north side of the pond. It was mid morning, sweat was dripping into my eyes, my backside hurt from sitting so long, and I just wasn't having any fun.

Wait a minute. Wait a cotton pickin' minute!

Aren't I doing this pond project because I wanted to? A challenge? Something enjoyable?

With those thoughts, I turned off the backhoe and walked away, making a resolution that no more meaningful work will be done on the pond until I arrive home from next week's hike. 

Familiarity breeds contempt and right now, I'm tired of dirt and rocks, rocks and dirt, and even more dirt and rocks. No doubt, I'll be ready, if not eager, to continue after a week away.

I talked with my pondologist, Cosmo, yesterday and they'll be coming over sometime in the next week or two for dinner and to help me map out the next stages of the pond. I've certainly discovered that having a working, beautiful, sizable, garden pond is more than just digging a big hole. It takes no small amount of engineering. Thankfully, I have Cosmo and Mike to teach and guide me or I'd be in a world of hurt.

I spent the rest of the morning playing in the garden, the orchard, or making another filter for the temporary goldfish pond.

Looks as though we'll have a good crop of blueberries this year. The bushes are lush with blossoms.

I set to work making a filter from a waterfalls pump, an ice cream pail, some bailing twine, and polyester batting that is used when making a quilt.

With the warm weather, the algae has taken over the pond. The goldfish don't seem to mind, but I do. The pumps suck the water through the quilt batting and strains out much of the algae making the water quality much better.

I took a late morning stroll up to Jambo's to check on the camp and found this bird lying dead on the back porch.

It appears to have flown into a window, but was in perfect condition. I'm not certain what it is, but it's beautiful. No doubt, Matt in Sitka, or Jambo, will let me know.

While sitting in the shade on the back porch yesterday, I saw an indigo bunting, a gajillion bluebirds, and had a rare sighting of a Baltimore oriole. Jambo has a regular bird sanctuary up on the hill.... and he also has a bird feeder.

Time was spent repairing more cracks in the drive caused by last spring's frost heaves. It's an ongoing, never ending, process in the north country.



Mark and Isabella stopped by on their way to Iron Mountain. They were going to do some shopping and asked what was needed for tonight's camp out. 

Isabella informed me that Grandma had already bought BIG marshmallows. 

Mark helped me drag the kayaks off the rack. I began pressure washing the four, along with the paddles, as soon as they left. Isabella picked out two smaller ones, one for Grady and one for her.

I just, this minute, received a text from Yooper Brother Mark, saying Isabella has on her swimming suit and is ready to go kayaking... and it's not yet 8 AM! 

Think someone might be a bit excited?

Friday afternoon was spent mowing the yard surrounding the house. With the recent warm weather, the grass has been growing about an inch a day. The outlying areas can go a week without being sheared, but it's good to have the lawn nice and neat.

I was hot and tired and needed to cool off. I climbed into Mom's car, cranked up the air conditioning and made my way to the lake.



It felt wonderful to sit on the dock with my feet in the water. 

Sargie and Hambone arrived home late in the afternoon. We had a good evening, most of it spent outdoors, watering plants and following Grandma Sargie around as she did whatever it is Grandma Sargie does after a long, hard, day in the Vision Center.

Typical boy. He HAD to try to blow out the bug torch, something even windy Hambone was unable to do.

Today's a big day, one dedicated to a couple of five year-olds. Poor Grandma Sargie has to work and closes tonight, but we've promised to save some marshmallows for her to roast when she gets home.

Oops, I hear Hambone upstairs. He just walked into our bedroom and is no doubt in bed with Grandma Sargie. That can only mean one thing, he'll be flying down the steps in no time.



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...

After a long winter, the Crappie Queen is back

June 7, 2019 - Friday morning
53 degrees/clear skies/calm winds
Pentoga Road

Crappies beware! I was fearful the Crappie Queen might have become rusty over the winter months, but she picked right up where she left off during yesterday's fishing trip to our local lake.

Thursday began by riding with Sargie to the dentist's office. While my bride was getting a clean bill of health on her choppers, I gabbed with Brenda, the front office manager, and her four legged buddy.

I was one of Eric's (the dentist) first patients and going to his office is like visiting family. The staff is so friendly and if he weren't so busy, Eric could almost be one of my sons. Seems the time is spent catching up, visiting, and laughing.

Believe me, it's not your typical dentist's office.

We made a swing through Iron River purchasing a few more bedding plants and think we're finished buying any more for the summer. Sargie sure has our yard and home looking nice.

Between hanging loads of laundry outside, my bride spent the rest of the morning and most the afternoon planting.



I saw her zoom past more than once getting a load of dirt with which to fill one pot or another. 

The backhoe was moved to the north side of the pond before I began digging the lower trellis.

Right now, I'm having difficulty moving the dirt. The pond lies between where I'm working and the dirt pile in the woods. Beginning today, I'll have to dig, then move it with the tractor by going completely around the garden, one load at a time. 

The only saving grace is that I'll soon begin on the south side, the final part that requires heavy digging. Afterwards, the rest of the work will be shaping the terraces, bottom, and sides, the old fashioned way, by hand.

Feeling the effects of too much work in way too much sun, Sargie and I headed to the lake later in the afternoon. Mostly, we explored, looking for fishing movement and enjoying the day.

Over the course of the next couple of hours, we caught a smorgasbord of fish, crappies, bluegills, bass, rock bass, and even a northern pike. Fishing season has officially started for the year.

Grady will be coming home with Grandma Sargie late this afternoon as we have a big weekend planned. There's kayaking on the lake tomorrow, the big camp out in the back yard Saturday night, and Sunday will see Macrea and I completing the final packing and preparations for our 42 mile hike beginning Monday. 

Meanwhile, there's a gaping hole in my garden that needs my attention. 

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

So are the tales from Pentoga Road...

An eagle keeping a wary eye on Sargie and me 

Even in a dying tree there's beauty

June 6, 2019 - Thursday

51 degrees/cloudy/calm winds

Pentoga Road

I've been trimming away dying branches and side shoots of that old birch tree for years. All that was left was a side trunk and now it appears it too has withered. Fungi has quickly taken over.

Wednesday was another giddy up, ride 'em cowboy, day. I began with what has become a morning ritual, maintenance on the machinery.

Grease, gas, and check the oil. Tighten this, that, and the other. Blow the air filter clean, do some more tightening.

It's a process that gets old, but then so is all my equipment. Purchased eight years ago, the backhoe has hundreds, maybe thousands of hours, of use. The tractor is 67 years old. Even the little blue Yamaha four wheeler that serves as my pickup truck was manufactured almost twenty five years ago.

Truth be known, I like old stuff. Compared to the modern day machines, all are pretty ugly, but they are mine and for the most part, do what I ask of them. 

What's a little grease, gas, and oil, among friends?



Wednesday involved undoing some of what had previously been dug. After much thought, I decided to make a lower trellis, one that was over six feet deep. To do that, some dirt that was previously dug had to be replaced so I could get the backhoe close enough to the hole to reach far enough down.

Whoa, it's a long ways down there!

 Though it took half the day, I'm glad I took the time to do it right. For Aunt Joanne's sake, who says that she can't see nor does she know what a trellis does, they keep the walls of the pond from falling in. 

The bottom of the pond, trellises and all, will be smoothed, rocks removed, then covered with an under layer. On top of that will be a thick and very heavy rubber mat (the liner), then landscaping cloth placed over everything. The trellises cause the bottom to step down in two to three foot intervals. 

I noticed something interesting while digging yesterday. White butterflies were resting in an exact line along one wall. Stepping off the backhoe and climbing down into the hole, I found there was barely a trickle of water and the butterflies were having a drink.

I panicked at the thought that I had hit water, but later found it was coming from a very small underground puddle. Clay holds water and the puddle was a remnant from this past spring's snowmelt.

Reminding myself once again that the pond project is a process, I quit digging for the day early in the afternoon. It's that time of year again to begin getting firewood from the plant in town for next winter's heat. 

Yooper Brother Mark and I had a good conversation. He and Isabella are coming out Saturday where, with Hambone, the four of us will be going kayaking in the afternoon and camping out in the backyard that night.

The munchkins are excited and no doubt, there'll be more than one marshmallow roasted over the fire Saturday evening. I hear that Grandma Sargie even has all the ingredients for s'mores.

Back home, I decided to mow the back trails, conveniently NOT part of the queendom. Talk about a jungle!

The back meadow still can't be mowed as much of it remains underwater. The hole where I've gotten fill in the past is completely full. 

There's been a large hollow in the back yard where the well is. The frost heaves of this past spring made it worse, so much so, that mowing in that area has been difficult.

Sargie has been after me to fill in the hollow. As Queen of her queendom while perched high atop the riding mower, I heeded her requests and moved black dirt from one of the defunct raised beds in the garden to the backyard.

When Sargie first bought me this heavy duty dump wagon, I inwardly scoffed. After all, REAL men use a wheel barrow.

Over the past couple of years, I've found the wagon holds as much dirt as I'm able to lift in the wheel barrow and its much easier to pull than lift.

Pull? Who needs to pull? I hooked the wagon to the four wheeler and towed all six loads uphill to the dumping place. Worked like a charm.

A new crop of asparagus had poked above the ground. I cut the stalks and took those to the neighbor. A diabetic, she delighted in telling me how she makes milk soup with the asparagus and how delicious it is.

As much as I've cursed all of this spring's rain, the garden is dry. I watered last evening in hopes of kick starting the seed that was planted a couple of days ago.

A shower taken and frozen pizza consumed, I played with one of my GPS's last night while waiting for Sargie to arrive home from work. All the coordinates were entered for next week's hike on Picture Rocks Trail. Macrea and I will be departing early Monday morning for our four day wandering along the shores of Lake Superior.



It was late before Sargie arrived home and we had little time together. She's off today so no doubt, we'll have the opportunity to catch up, especially if we are sitting together in the yacht while fishing.

Meanwhile, she has a morning dentist's appointment and I'm going to begin the morning maintenance before resuming digging and hauling dirt.

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

So are the tales from Pentoga Road...

Another of our apple trees in full bloom

Grandson Westley
Wes took his first steps this past week and is now officially walking

June 5, 2019 - Wednesday morning

57 degrees/clear skies/calm winds

Pentoga Road

With yesterday's high nearing 80 degrees, it's beginning to feel and look like summer in the Upper Peninsula. While working on the pond, I alternated hands either wiping sweat from my brow or swatting the occasional mosquito. Yep, it feels like summer.

While I think of it, you who drive by, coming or going through Wisconsin, thanks for honking. I hear you and though you are usually past, I wave each and every time. I appreciate the greeting.

I've met some of you, most camp owners or summer vacationers, checking in to see the temperature or weather conditions. 

I have to laugh. Even when we are in the house and someone honks, I still wave. Hey, it can be a solitary life we lead here on Pentoga Road and howdy-do's in the form of a honk or two are always welcome.

I went to Iron Mountain with Sargie Tuesday morning to bring the Equinox home. Stopping at a greenhouse along the way, I purchased a few pepper plants, both sweet and hot, to compliment this summer's mini garden. 

The greenhouse garden plants weren't nearly as impressive as the hanging baskets suspended from the overhead hoops.

This is the first year in many that I haven't started my own vegetables and flowers from seed. 

One question. Has anyone else noticed the sharp increase in bedding plant prices? Holy cow, those things have gone up. Honestly, I've watched the cost of seeds do the same.

I paid $4.75 for a packet of hybrid cucumber seeds earlier this year. The catalog stated I was purchasing ten seeds and that's exactly what I got, only ten seeds. 

I know that variety of cucumber is a specialty item, but still...

The rest of the day was spent working on the pond. If you look at the following picture, you can see where I began trellising the left side.

I realize looking at pictures of a hole isn't the most interesting thing in the world, but take my word for it, progress is being made. Seems I am spending as much or more time now removing the dirt on top as I am actually digging. I bet I hopped on and off the tractor and/or backhoe yesterday fifty times, going from one to the other.

I've tried repeatedly to get Mississippi Brother Garry to drive his big, ol' four-wheel drive Kabota tractor with a super duper bucket up here from the deep south to move a bit of dirt, but so far, my pleadings have gone unheard. 

I think it would be the perfect road trip. Miss Jody could ride on the fender and they could have some real bonding time together. The journey from the Gulf to the far north wouldn't take more than a month or two, maybe three, depending on the weather.

As I was telling Garry earlier this morning, when I begin a project, I want it done yesterday, if not sooner. I have to keep reminding myself that digging this pond and the subsequent landscaping is a project. After the excavation and shaping will come just as much or more work with installing the underlayment, the thick and heavy rubber liner, landscape cloth over that, the gravel filter, and so on. 

I want subtle lighting around and in the pond and haven't even begun thinking of the electrical schematics of that task, let alone the large pump to keep the water flowing. That doesn't include the large waterfalls at one end and then final landscaping, pavers, planters, pots, park benches, etc. 

Lord, I just read the above. Maybe I'd be better off filling in the hole and calling it good 'nuff.

Completion goal is Labor Day. We'll see. It may be a year from Labor Day.

Could this be the year we finally have apples on Pentoga Road? Due to the fact that we live in a valley, our apple trees are slower to blossom than most. That can have its advantages as the blooms were still closed during the heavy freeze of two nights ago. They're open for pollination now.

Sargie arrived home from work late yesterday afternoon and helped me put the electric fence back in place for overnight. With rain in the forecast, I took the time to plant the tomatoes and peppers.

Planting only half the normal raised beds, hopefully, we'll harvest enough vegetables to keep us and the neighbor lady satisfied. Like I said, if not, I'll go raid Jambo's garden. I looked at it the other day and it appears to be doing well. 

Sargie and I enjoyed the best of summer meals last night, fresh asparagus, sweet corn, and grilled hamburgers. The only thing missing were fresh tomatoes to top off the near perfect meal.

Before anyone asks, that's mayonnaise and hot pepper slices topping my burgers.

Sargie closes the Vision Center tonight. It will be a long one as it's a doctor day with patients coming and going. I'm going to get back out to the garden and get to work as soon as I see my bride off.

Labor Day will be here before we know it.

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

So are the tales from Pentoga Road...

Yooper Brother Mark sent this picture of their flowering crab apple tree saying it's the first time it has blossomed.