The happy water tower of Caspian, Michigan

February 17, 2013 – Sunday morning

-16 degrees/calm/clear

Pentoga Road

It appears Jimmy-the-fawn has disappeared along with the herd of deer I’ve been feeding all winter. The corn I scatter each night is now being eagerly consumed by blue jays and Thumper the bunny rabbit.

I’d be willing to bet if I strapped on my snowshoes and took a walk through the back woods, I’d see evidence of wolf tracks, those made while a pack of wild canines was in hot pursuit of my corn-fed deer. I doubt Jimmy has much of a chance. He’s woefully undersized and not very strong. I witnessed that scenario play out time after time in the arctic with the caribou herds. Indeed, the wolves were quick to take advantage of the oldest and youngest. It’s nature’s way of keeping only the best for breeding stock.

Whoops, the owner of this vehicle found there's plenty of water and slush under the snow on the local lakes.

Saturday was a mixed bag. After completing my walk, we went into town to get the Kia only to find the owner’s business closed with the car inside his garage. Evidently the mechanic had forgotten he’d promised it on Saturday morning since Sargie needs it to go to work on Monday.

Every time I do business with him, I swear it’ll be the last. Hopefully, this is it. He’s already lost the chance to service the Blazer, something I was going to hire him do in the next several weeks. There’s no excuse for poor communication skills and he seems to have few if any. Oh well, I’ll learn. I doubt he will.

Winterfest was happening around the former ski hill in Caspian, the home of Brother Yooper Mark and Sheri. Though Sargie and I didn’t attend, Mark sent along a few photos of which I’ll share a couple.

The old ski hill in Caspian makes a great place to ride a sled. Sargie and I often comment about the lack of activity on the slopes each time we ride by. In the old days, before internet and video games, my friends and I would have owned that hill and seized the opportunity to ride its slopes for hours and days at a time.

Growing up, we had such a place in back of our house that was simply referred to as “The Hill.” The neighborhood’s winter activities were centered there and regardless the temperature, during the short and dark days of winter, we’d hurry home from  school, change clothes, and grab our two-runner sleds. Speed down the steep and often twisting trail was controlled by riding on one’s belly and dragging his feet, something that resulted in many pairs of boots with holes in the toe area. Mine often sported tire patches, something I wore with pride. It showed I was a daring and manly sled rider.

I hated to see the sun set and often risked taking “just one more ride,” finding myself grounded from the next week’s activities on The Hill. To me, it was all a matter of interpretation, but when Mom said to be home by dark, she didn’t mean sunset of the following day.

And what agony it was to look at the activity on The Hill from the back window of our home. My friends were having fun, speeding down the hill at breakneck speed. The Hill not only provided great exercise and hours of fun, it taught me responsibility. 

By the lack of sled and toboggan tracks on the old Caspian ski hill, I don’t think there are many children who enjoy such activities anymore. As one of my high school students told me years ago when I asked why he and his friends didn’t go sled riding, he looked at me as one would an ancient dinosaur and said, “Who wants to walk up a stupid hill?”

I rest my case.

There are no lack of sled-riding munchkins on the Caspian Hill during Saturday's Winterfest

The rest of Saturday was spent puttering around the house. Sargie made a huge pot of spaghetti sauce in preparation for a large meal today. No doubt, we’ll feast like the two piggies we know how to be.  

I was lucky and found two mileage airline tickets so that we might go to Louisiana and visit Andy and Mollie at the end of this month. I’m not sure why the tickets were so much less going south. The airlines wanted 65,000 miles for just one when I attempted to go to the East Coast to visit this coming week. I had to use 50,000 miles for both of us to head south. I’ll get out east sometime this spring, one way or the other, even if I have to go on Telephone Time and see if I can hook a ride with someone heading that way. I’ve got sons, daughter-in-laws, and grandbabies to visit.

The Mighty Brule at the Pentoga Bridge. We take out on the left in the summer months after kayaking 16 miles. It doesn't look nearly as inviting now.

Being the wild party animals we are, we played cards last night, ate some popcorn, and watched a bit of television.

This segment of Sargie’s vacation ends after today. She’ll head back to the Vision Center tomorrow to cure the eyeballs of America for the next two weeks before we head south for a few days.

During our drive on Saturday afternoon, we ventured down the snowmobile trail (a wood's road during the summer months) to the Brule River. God bless the man who invented four-wheel drive!

I’ve been somewhat lax on reading and grading assignments this past week while Sargie’s been home. Since there will be almost fifty new assignments arriving in my digital inbox beginning tomorrow, I think I’ll bite the bullet today and attempt to get caught up. After all, a man’s work is never done.

So are the tales from Pentoga Road…

February 16, 2013 – Saturday morning

-12/clear/calm/cold

Pentoga Road

Though March is in our sights, it doesn’t appear winter is going to willingly relinquish its grip on our little corner of the world anytime soon. It’s beautiful outside today. The hoar’s frost that covers each tree makes everything look as though God took His time decorating the world with lace. Beautiful.

Friday was a good one on Pentoga Road. After uploading the log, I put on my hiking boots and stepped out for my daily five-mile stroll. The weather was… interesting. The sun was shining when I left, but within half a mile, I ran into heavy snowfall driven by strong winds. Five minutes later, the sun was out, the wind calm, and I unfastened my coat to let some body heat escape. A bit later, the snow and wind were back. I thought I must be in Sitka.

Sargie announced it was time to assemble and hang a silver chandelier we’d purchased last fall from Insurance Liquidators in Iron River. Originally costing hundreds of dollars, Sargie discovered the opened and broken box tucked away on a shelf. As queen of the bargain bin, she explored further and found all the glass globes to be intact with loose wires jutting everywhere, but basically, everything seemed to be there.

It had been marked down several times and in the end, we paid $14.00 for the chance to have a beautiful light hanging over our dining room table. The cashier looked at the tattered box, shook her head, and said if it didn’t work, to bring it back within thirty days and she’d give us our money back.

Sargie's hiding the cord behind the window trim

The problem is, we put the light down the basement last fall and until recently, forgot about it. Yesterday was assembly day.

I quickly found why it was marked so inexpensively. The rod that extends through the entire chandelier came from the factory with bad threads. It couldn’t be assembled because the brass nut had nothing to grip.

I know that darned bulb fits in there somehow.

I went to the barn and started sorting through my bag of tricks. Finally, armed with a hardened nut, a hacksaw blade with which to help make new threads, my heavy magnifiers, Sargie’s support, several pairs of pliers, wrenches, and vice grips, and all sorts of words that Mom would have washed out my mouth for saying, the five-light chandelier was wired, assembled, and hung.

Pretend like you don't see that exercise ball and the candles are straight, okay? Hanging the light had been a long and tedious process.

We traveled to Iron Mountain last night and visited with Mr. Milligan for a couple of hours. He was in an extraordinarily great mood and we chuckled, laughed, and talked from the time we arrived to when we left him sitting at a table ready to play Bingo. As I told Sargie while coming home, I truly hope and pray that should I live to an advanced age, I can be as loving and happy and have the same great attitude as Mr. Milligan. I walk away from our visits feeling better than I did before. He’s truly an inspiration.

We’re supposed to pick up the Kia this morning in town. There are uphill snowmobile drag races on the old ski hill in Brother Yooper Mark’s town of Caspian. I may stop by there and if there’s not too big a crowd, watch for a bit. Otherwise, it should be a quiet day.

But first, I need to get this uploaded and take my five-mile stroll. After all, a man’s work is never done.

So are the tales from Pentoga Road…

A path had to be cleared to take the trash from the garage to the cans in back of the wood shed on Thursday.

February 15, 2013 – Friday

2 degrees/clear/calm

Pentoga Road

I wonder if I ought to be alarmed that I’m up to drinking two cups shy of a full pot of coffee each day?

When I first started teaching, forty years ago, it was with a great deal of pride that I inhaled a pot a day. I had a small office and someone had given me a newly-invented machine called a Mr. Coffee. A person put some grounds in a white filter, poured water in a tank, and ten minutes later, he was sipping coffee.

It was a couple of years after I quit drinking that I came to the conscious decision to wean myself off of coffee. I’d quit smoking earlier in life, had learned to live without alcohol, why should I be dependent on caffeine?

It wasn’t difficult. I was living in the cabin north of the Arctic Circle and heating water on the wood stove was much easier than making coffee. Green tea became my beverage of choice and the rest was history… until I slipped and began running around with the notorious Alaskan gang known simply as The Grandpas.

I blame The Grandpas for reintroducing coffee into my life.

Darn ‘em, anyway.

I became a member of the Sitka, Alaska, Chapter of Coffee with the Grandpas several years ago and in true Grandpa tradition, began taking advantage of McDonalds dollar senior citizens all-you-can-drink coffee daily special… and here I am, back in the gutter, drinking two cups shy of a full pot of coffee every day.

The Grandpas are a wild bunch. Led by Uncle Bobby, Rod, and Greg, each delights in pretending to talk about grandchildren, family, fishing, church, and the weather, but I know their whole purpose is to lead their followers down the road to Coffee Perdition. For effects, they’re even joined occasionally by the pastor of the local Nazarene Church and they freely interact with the Young Life group, a herd of teens sponsored by the Presbyterian Church who meet every morning for fellowship at McDonalds.

I have a very addictive personality and have always said that I’d get hooked on dog poop if it would give me a buzz. (Don’t worry, Mom, it was just an example.) So what’s next, an increase in the discount citrus soda pop I buy by the case when we visit Green Bay? I already notice my consumption of ice cream has increased. It’s a vice I battle nightly, usually between the hours of 7 and 9 PM. And that will, no doubt, lead to an extra squirt of chocolate sauce over the top, assuming Sargie’s not watching.

I suppose an evening cup of coffee with my ice cream smothered in chocolate sauce will follow;  and I owe it all to Coffee with the Grandpas. Golly I miss my friends. I sure love them and would drink coffee with that rowdy bunch of Alaskans any ol' day.

I've got to say hello to Bill from Appleton, Wisconsin. Bill left a comment on yesterday's blog. Come to find out, he's my next door neighbor... well, almost. There are only five of us that live on the entire length of Pentoga Road so if nothing else, he's the next door neighbor to my next door neighbor... who is over a mile away. Bill has a cabin a mile up the Mighty Brule from Pentoga and has promised to honk when he drives by tonight.

Do better than that, stop in sometime, Bill! I guess you know we're the second house on the left at the bottom of the hill. (Third house if you count the one a mile and half up on the curve by the main road.)

Valentine’s Day was pretty laid back on Pentoga Road. Sargie and I exchanged gifts; she gave me some wonderful bathroom reading material (really, it says that on the cover!), a long sleeved t-shirt, and a new Dremel 300. I wore my old one out last year after many years of carving and use.

I gave Sargie a dozen red roses. In the end, we held hands and I didn’t run like I did from Susy Sandstrom in first grade. 

I read and graded assignments during the morning hours. The quality of work from this semester’s munchkins is so good. Most of them are grown-up’s, professionals earning another certification, mostly in teaching or social services.

Sargie spent a romantic day cleaning the house. She ran the vacuum on both floors, scrubbed and dusted. The house looks beautiful.

I retired to the garage in the afternoon hours and began sorting and shifting much of the contents to the barn. But, to have room in the barn, I needed to sort and clean there. At one point, Sargie yelled out a window and asked which I was cleaning, the garage or barn?

By the end of the day, both were much more organized. There’s still plenty of room for tidiness, but they’ll do for now.

Sargie made a pizza last night for supper. We played cards, watched a bit of television, and true to our wild, late-night, out of control ways, were in bed by 9:30.

I’m not sure what today will bring. We’re going over to Iron Mountain later this afternoon to have dinner with Mr. Milligan. I’ve been reading and watching videos on how to make a hearth. The one made of white tile has to go.

I didn’t walk yesterday, so there’re five miles to put under my feet, and if the wind stays down, I might go out onto the lake in search of meat for the table. After all, a man’s work is never done.

So are the tales from Pentoga Road… 

I backed the tractor out of the barn and let it idle. Other than an oil change, it's ready for the coming summer's work.

February 14, 2013 – Thursday

26 degrees/cloudy/light snow

Pentoga Road

Happy Valentine’s Day! I wonder if young children still celebrate Valentine’s Day in the classroom? I read that in some schools, it’s been outlawed because someone found it offensive and didn’t want his child exposed to that horrible thing called love.

 Oh my God… it’s that darned love… it’ll offend a person every time.

Valentine’s Day was one of my favorites as a small child. There was almost a ritual feeling to it. Mom took my sister and me shopping for packets of cards the night before. After we sat at the kitchen table and signed each as well as address every envelope with each classmate’s first name.

It was first grade and I really really liked Susy Sandstrom. I chose out the very best and biggest card from the packet, carefully wrote her name, and decorated the card and envelope with hearts and “I love you’s.”

Susy and I were an item until she tried to hold my hand at recess. Fearful I’d become infected with cooties, I left her to join a squadron of other six-year-old boys who were zooming around the playground pretending to bomb Germans under the swing set.  

In school, on Valentine’s Day Eve, we carefully made mailboxes from construction paper and taped them to the front of our desks. Most were decorated with hearts and cupid’s arrows. Mine usually consisted of fishing rods and reels. Don’t ask me why. It’s the way I rolled back then.

And the party… ah, the Valentine’s Day party. The morning, filled with condensed school work lasted forever.  Even the act of eating lunch from our brown paper sacks, usually our favorite activity, seemed extraordinarily long.

After lunch playtime, Mrs. McDonald read us a chapter from a Box Car Kids book and then had the audacity to suggest we lay our heads on our desks and rest while she began the preparations for the party.

The room mothers magically appeared, the food was set out, and final decorations pinned on the bulletin board. It was time! We delivered our mail then spent the next hour opening our cards, eating sugar candy, and wolfing down the cupcakes and half-pints of milk. Towards the end of the party, our teacher told us it was time to clean up. Cards were put in bags to take home, scrap paper was picked from the floor, and the desks were arranged so Mr. Howard, the janitor, might easily sweep.

At home, my sister and I spread the cards on a bed or table and compared them. Since there were few stores, everyone bought the packets made by the same card company. But still, it was Valentine’s Day; one made for love and friendship. It was fun, it was healthy, and it was wholesome. It was back in the old days before love became offensive.  

Wednesday dawned bright and beautiful. With highs in the upper thirties, it didn’t take long to strap on the hiking boots and stroll my usual five miles. There was a hint of spring in the air… the smell of dirt was wafting from somewhere and it had the feel of wonderful days to come.

Since it was Ash Wednesday, Sargie treated us to fish sandwiches in town. We needed to drop the Kia off at the mechanics and pick up a few groceries.

There were still three hours of daylight left when we arrived home. I quickly put on my heavy clothes and hopped on the four-wheeler to go fishing.

Since the last snow, slush has come through cracks in the ice and claimed our local lake. It usually happens late in the winter and this year is no exception. I got stuck several times getting out to my fishing place. I’d hop off, lift the ATV onto more solid ground, go ahead a few feet, then get stuck again. I finally reached my destination.

Fishing is slowing down. Still, several nice ones were caught, a large crappie included. I didn’t even put up my Clam. It was too nice a day to be inside.

The shadows were getting long when I packed and attempted to head for home. The four-wheeler instantly settled into a foot of glop. Each effort from picking it up and setting it on top of the snow resulted in advancing only a foot or two.

An angel by the name of Sargie magically appeared! She’d been working around outside the house and decided to visit me on the lake. My girl was a sight for sore eyes. In the end, she drove the ATV while I pushed. We were soon at the boat landing.

Sargie also had a huge surprise for me last night. After cleaning the fish, I started to dress for my nightly chore of carrying in wood only to discover it had already been done. While I was fishing, Sargie had completed all my nightly chores. What a sweetheart.

We enjoyed a huge supper of salad, stuffed baked potato, and I threw a couple of deer burgers on the grill for me. For dessert, we inhaled pieces from the German Chocolate cake Sargie had baked earlier and ice cream.

I repaid Sargie’s gift of carrying in the wood by allowing her beat me in Rummy. I was ahead until the last hand when she came on like gangbusters and zoomed around at the finish line. I’ll admit, I’m card impaired. Always have been/always will be. If only you had my life.

I’m not sure what’s on today’s agenda. For certain, I’m going to attack the garage and at the minimum, put a few things away. It’s almost embarrassing. You know when it gets so bad that I can’t stand it… it’s bad! After all, a man’s work is never done.

Thumper the Rabbit also shares the corn from Jimmy's bowl on the back deck. He has no qualms about climbing the step and coming up.

So are the tales from Pentoga Road…

I found a pre-gardening season sale on Burpee's seeds while in Green Bay on Tuesday

February 13, 2013 – Wednesday

Cloudy/calm/19 degrees

Pentoga Road

I want to wish my third son, Matt, a belated happy birthday. He turned 32 years old on Tuesday. The poor kid… traveled on Monday to lower Michigan for a meeting. His plane was delayed and he had to spend the night in Newark, New Jersey, and didn’t arrive there until the wee hours of Tuesday morning, forcing him to overnight and grab an early flight to Boston. When I talked with him on his birthday, he said he was running on three-and-a-half hours of sleep. I asked what plans he had for his birthday celebration. He replied, “Take a nap.”

Matt leaves this weekend for China and Southeast Asia on business.  

Happy birthday, buddy. I hope you got your nap. I love you.

I well remember all the nights I spent in airports and alongside landing strips in the bush waiting for a plane. I’m asked if I miss my former Alaskan profession and way of life. There’s no way I would go back and do it now. First off, I love being retired. It was fun and exciting then, but that’s a younger person’s lifestyle. I’ve grown too selfish in my old age and prefer to sleep in a bed, preferably my own under my own roof.

Josh sent some pictures from New Hampshire of the kids playing after the big blizzard that hit the East Coast this past weekend.

Lucky kids... to have such a great sled riding hill in their front yard!

Ellie and Wyatt on snowshoes

We’re very grateful that Aubrey and Marley’s daddy, Derek, a deputy sheriff in Dickinson County, is well after a crazed older man stabbed him with a large knife this past weekend. On patrol at the ski jumping championships in Iron Mountain, he was attacked from the rear and luckily, Derek thought someone might be falling. He stepped to turn around causing the attacker to misjudge.

Derek was wearing a Kevlar vest and winter coat. The knife penetrated the vest, but only nicked Derek. We talked with him on the phone yesterday and he assured us he’s fine. We’re grateful that one of the finest young men we know was unharmed.

The attacker is behind bars and no doubt, will be there for many years to come.

Perched on the exercise ball Monday evening, Diamond 'Lil once again put on a clinic in how to play Rummy. She soundly beat me by over 200 points.

Sargie and I fired up the old Blazer on Tuesday and traveled to Green Bay for the day. The forecast was for decent weather and after watching it snow and spit ice crystals on Sunday with not much improvement the next day, we decided it was time to get out of town.

After the latest snow blew in, we knew it was time to go somewhere, even if it was a short day trip to Green Bay.

Sargie reading the sale flyer

Everything from soda pop to garden seed was purchased with the clearance racks throughout the city thoroughly searched. Sargie found a couple of summer tops she liked and I bought a new Packers cap to wear for everyday use.

Naturally, after stopping at Harbor Freight, I came home with tools and other items I really didn’t need. I mean, c’mon, a fiberglass framing hammer for $2.95? It’ll look great alongside the other ten or twelve others already in the shop. I want to make sure the sons are well taken care of after I’m gone. Since there won’t be any money, my legacy will, no doubt, be hammers for everyone!

I found a greenhouse I really liked. It’s a 6x8 aluminum structure at Harbor Freight; very heavy aluminum with heavy clear plastic panels on sale for $299. They didn’t have one in stock, but gave me a rain check and a promise to call when they arrive. I can’t build a greenhouse for that price and Sargie and I were impressed how sturdy the display was. We’ll see. If they call before maple syrup season, I’ll purchase it. If not, I’ll go ahead and build my own. Either will work.

Speaking of gardening, I purchased the bulk of my garden seed for the summer. Menards had a pre-spring seed sale of their new Burpee’s seeds. Other than tomato, sweet pepper, zucchini squash, acorn winter squash, parsnip, and specialty items, I think I have the bulk of my seeds purchased. The Burpee brand has always worked well for me and years ago, when we gardened commercially, Burpee was one of our largest suppliers.

Other gardeners have asked what I'll plant this year. Here's a list of what I have so far:

Beet – Cylindra (2)

            Detroit Dark Red, Medium Top

 Summer Squash – Early Prolific Straightneck (2)

Winter Squash – Waltham Butternut

 Brussel Sprouts – Long Island Improved

 Pumpkin – Jack Be Little

                     Big MaxEgg Plant – Black Beauty

 Pepper – Jalapeno

 Turnip – Purple Top White Globe (4)

 Beans – Contender

               Bush Blue Lake

               Tender Pick

               Burpee’s Stringless Green Pod

               Kentucky Wonder Pole Bean

 Cauliflower – Snowball

 Pea –  Sugar Snap

             Super Sugar Snap

            Super Snappy           

 Cucumber – Straight Eight

                       Bush Champion

 Lettuce Iceberg

 Basil – Genovese Basil

 Tomato – Supper Sweet 100 (Cherry)

 Broccoli – Waltham 29

 Marigold – Sparky’s Mixed Colors (2)

After witnessing the massive price increases in everything this past year, I told Sargie I'm going to can and preserve as much produce from the garden as possible this coming season. We froze quite a bit this past year. I don't trust the economy (or those who manipulate it) and being on a very fixed income, we can save money by eating not only frozen, but canned vegetables.

I had hoped to meet with Aaron and Clay and maybe see Donald for a going away gathering and an end of the year wrap up, perhaps grab a cup of tea, and after, talk about a few new plays and formations that might work for next season. I read last night that Don’s in Texas, Aaron’s in California, and who knows where Clay is? I guess my man forgot to tell their man that I was going to be in town. Oh well, maybe we can get together next time and do lunch.

We arrived home last night around 6 and after unpacking the car, enjoyed a quiet evening. 

Sargie made stuffed tomatoes with canned pike Monday evening. Mmm. There weren't any leftovers!

Other than grade and read papers, I don’t have many plans for today. The Kia will be taken to town this afternoon and left at the mechanic’s. It’s to peak above freezing for the first time in a while, so possibly I’ll work in the shop. I’ve got several projects that have been put on hold due to the cold weather. The garage is also looking like a rerun gone horribly wrong of Sanford and Son. This might be a good day to clean it. After all, a man’s work is never done.

Just finishing blowing snow off the back deck Sunday afternoon

So are the tales from Pentoga Road…

Jimmy walks up the back step and onto the deck for his daily can of corn

Bert and Eileen Cyr, from Herman, Maine, sent this picture during the wrath of the latest East Coast blizzard. It pretty much tells the story.

February 10, 2013 – Sunday morning

20 degrees/cloudy/calm/winter weather advisory

Pentoga Road

I received emails and pictures from my sons and also, my good friends, Eileen and Bert Cyr, yesterday. Matt lives outside of Portsmouth, New Hamphire, Luke in North Waterboro, Maine, and the Cyrs live in Herman, Maine, just outside of Bangor. I’ll let the pictures do the talking. I also received a text from Josh who lives in Windham, New Hampshire, saying they received somewhere between two and three feet of snow. I know there are a lot of happy grandchildren in the Pennington Clan this weekend. If they’re anything like their daddies, all love to play in snow, especially deep snow with large drifts.

Luke clearing a path

Luke and Melinda's house after the Blizzard of '13

The Cyr's neighbors aren't going anywhere soon

Uncle Bert cleaning the drive 

Melinda's Subaru is in there somewhere 

Matt's four-foot above ground pool

Coleman

Abigail

More storm pictures below. Meanwhile...

Sargie had made mention that on her way to work Friday morning, the car had developed a shimmy when approaching fifty-five miles per hour. I replied that it was probably ice around the wheel wells, gotten into the struts or around the shocks, and it should dissipate after she took it through the car wash.

She reported after arriving home Friday night that the car still shimmied. I took it out for a drive. Sure enough, it did more than shimmy, it bounced from side to side.

I awaked early Saturday morning and after talking with a mechanic, was on the way to his shop before 7. We’d planned on leaving for Mom’s by six, if not earlier, and I was hoping he might be able to fix whatever was wrong and have us on our way. Meanwhile, Sargie was packed and waiting for my return home.

The tires were checked and he balanced the front ones saying they were out of round. I paid the man, hopped in the car, and shimmied my way home.

I called a front-end shop in Iron Mountain hoping that we might get in, have the car fixed, then continue to Indiana immediately afterwards. The owner said he was closing at 10:30 Saturday morning so he might attend the ski jumping championships. The only thing we knew for certain was that we’d not be driving to Mom’s.

Mother’s are sure gentle and understanding. I explained the problem and without hesitation, Mom said we were to stay home; that breaking down between here and there wasn’t an option. Saying we’d be along later in the week after the car is fixed, she mentioned something about meetings and activities already planned.

So in the end, Mom said she might fly up here in the spring and if not, we’ll try driving down. I’ll get the car in later this week for front-end work and I already have an appointment on Thursday for a sixty thousand mile general maintenance check. I want to get the timing checked and make sure it’s ready for the next sixty thousand miles. Meanwhile, we have the trusty old Blazer. It has a few aches and pains itself, but like the old war horse it is, just keeps plodding along. 

Sargie and I were sitting in the house feeling sorry for ourselves Saturday morning when Yooper Brother Mark called and asked if we might want to ride to Rhinelander, Wisconsin, with him and Sheri for a day of shopping. Sargie and shopping? Mark didn’t have to ask twice.

We had a wonderful time with our friends. It seems with Sargie’s work and all the activities everyone’s involved with, we seldom have time to simply talk, laugh, and get caught up. It was a great day spent in several stores. I purchased an insulated Packers hooded sweatshirt on clearance. Sargie found a top she liked. We also shopped at Menard’s Lumber to get ideas for a shower and vanity for the second floor bathroom. Now all we need is a stagecoach to rob.

Yooper Brother Mark and Sheri at WalMart

I fixed pike dip last night for supper. Making canned northern pike into a tuna fish-like spread, we enjoyed a light supper and later, played Rummy in front of the wood stove. My winning streak ended at one game as Sargie, once again, cleaned my clock.

We’re under a winter weather advisory until Monday noon for several inches of wet snow and even some freezing rain. I probably should go fishing as it’s in this type weather that the crappies love to bite. On the other hand, Sargie’s home and on vacation, the house is warm and cozy, and getting wet and cold simply doesn’t seem like a viable option.

Mommy got in on the action... as did Guiness, the black lab.

Luke and the kiddies

 So with that in mind, I’m going to get another cup of coffee, throw another log on the fire, and think some deep thoughts. After all, a man’s work is never done.

So are the tales from Pentoga Road…