Neighbor Mike is watching the line spin off a tip up.

January 17, 2014 – Friday

14 degrees/cloudy/snow/breezy

Pentoga Road

Ouch! I just finished digging a sliver from my right index finger. While filling the stove in the middle of the night, it felt as though I’d driven a tree trunk under the skin. It was too much effort to remove at three in the morning so I simply went back to bed and fell asleep.

But, oh, how I was quickly reminded this morning. It was dark and I was just pulling a shirt over my head when the sliver was driven deeper into my finger. I gingerly finished dressing and came downstairs to prepare for surgery.

Tweezers? Check. Needle? Check. Nail clippers? Check. Pocketknife? Check. Magnifiers? Check. Front Teeth? (To try when the tweezers fail.) Check. I had all the necessary surgical tools with which to perform major surgery.

I’ll live another day. The log that had impaled itself in my finger has been removed and thrown into the fire where it should have landed at three this morning.

Page Two

Oh yeah... the Slice O Matic I mentioned in yesterday's log. I can taste the bread and butter pickles now.

The knee worked much better Thursday as I rode with Sargie five miles down the road then walked back. For whatever reason, there was no pain during or after. Now if I can just keep from twisting the darn thing until it gets stronger… hiking stronger… not every day-use stronger. I’ve started doing some stretching and mobility exercises.

I worked the rest of the morning reading assignments. All went well and I think this is going to be yet another great bunch of students. Many are student teachers, there are several experienced educators earning Alaska certification, and a few who are undergrad future teachers. So far/so good.

It was almost noon when I went outside to plow the drive. Finishing, I plowed up to Neighbor Mike’s where we talked a bit and decided to go fishing.

We went to a different lake than I usually fish and for a while, I thought that finally, our dry streak was finished. With Mike behind the wheel of the Blazer, we drove over half a mile out onto the ice and reading the shoreline, picked a random place that seemed as though fish should be swimming underneath.

We set out three tip ups and then began jigging. Mike lowered his jig through the hole and it kept on going. He fought a nice fish until it got off. A flag went up… the spool on the tip up twirled as a monster ran with the minnow. I let it run, then slowly picked up the tip up, reeled in the slack, and set the hook. The fight was on… for a few seconds until the large fish broke the line.

We had nonstop action for all of ten minutes, then we never had another hit or bite for the next two hours. The pattern of horrible fishing continues.

Mike makes jam… really good jam. I traded him a quart jar of pure, clear, number-one, Grade A, maple syrup for two pint jars of to-die-for jam; one wild blackberry and raspberry, the other New Haven peach jam. He claims my maple syrup with its light smoky flavor is the best he’s ever tasted. I say the same about his jam. It doesn’t get much better than when two old retired school teachers get together and have nothing better to do than trade recipes and sweets in the middle of a cold, January, day.

Sargie was home early last night. I fixed stuffed baked potatoes for supper. Toppings were shrimp, bacon, butter, sour cream, and any other nutritious, low calorie food group I could think of. I really wished I could have cut some fresh chives, put they are shriveled and buried under feet of snow alongside the barn. Next year, I have to remember to cut and dry some for winter’s use.

Sargie closes tonight which means an extra long day. I’m going to ride with her five miles down the road and walk back. After, there’ll be papers to read, seed catalogues from which to order, and coffee to sip.

I should start ordering seeds rather than just window shopping. Seed catalogues are scattered all around my chair.

I can still feel the tug of that large fish from yesterday’s fishing trip. To go fishing or not? Stay tuned.

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

So are the tales from Pentoga Road… 

Overheated from a exhilarating game of fetch, Brutus found a snowbank in which to cool off. 

January 16, 2014 – Thursday

8 degrees/cloudy/snow

Pentoga Road

It’s a deep, dark, winter, that has descended upon Pentoga Road these days. The temperatures have certainly moderated, but with ice fishing so lousy, I’m once again battling the urge to eat… no, to graze.

Sargie made it back from her girl-vacation in good shape. They had to drive in blinding snow the entire way home, but found that once they arrived in Iron Mountain, conditions were much better. It sure is good to have my girl home.

Sargie took an extra vacation day on Wednesday. She relaxed and puttered around the house while I graded university work. My classes are huge this semester. In fact, I spent most of Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday, doing nothing but reading and commenting. I expect my students to put some heart and soul into their work and I feel the least I can do is the same. So, I spend quite a bit of time responding.

I found myself reading for an hour or two yesterday, then taking a break and letting the eyes rest, reading again for an hour, taking another break, and so on. I finally caught up to yesterday’s submissions last night around 9 PM. I see there are a few more that came in overnight.

Sargie and I took a break and went into town yesterday afternoon. We did a bit of grocery shopping, visited the Insurance Liquidators for bargains, but weren’t gone long.

I purchased one treasure while in town; a Slice O Matic… “as seen on TV.” Supposedly, this light plastic machine will make short work out of making uniform cucumber slices next summer when I want to make huge batches of bread and butter pickles. I enjoying making them, but not the slicing. Hopefully, this will make my job easier.

On television, the Slice O Matic sold for a low low $19.99, plus a half a million dollars shipping and handling, but wait!... I purchased mine at Insurance Liquidators yesterday for $11.00. What a bargain. Yeah… we’ll see.

Neighbor Mike called saying he and his bride were on their way down from Marquette. I went over to his camp, cleared away the latest snowfall, and started a fire in the stove. He called last night saying they’d made it and thanked me for being able to walk into a warm camp. I well remember the days in northern Maine or the arctic…  of walking into a very cold camp and shivering while waiting for it to warm up. Glad I can help.

Sargie’s back to work today… always a tough one after a vacation. Several inches of snow fell during the night, so no doubt, I’ll be getting on the four wheeler and plowing the drive. Neighbor Mike mentioned something about ice fishing. Since he can drive, we might try a new lake. I’m not overly optimistic. I’ve yet to hear of anyone who has done well fishing this winter.

Then, there are those silly assignments that keep pouring into my email inbox. Right now, I don’t see an end to them and if that’s the case, I won’t be writing a log every day. Since the classes pay for the majority of the bills around here, I’ll probably save my eye power to read those. Hmm, makes sense.

But before I get busy, it’s time to get another cup of coffee and listen to the news. After all, a man’s work is never done.

So are the tales from Pentoga Road…

January 14, 2014 – Tuesday

19 degrees/cloudy/breezy

Pentoga Road

There’s a winter storm warning out for the area south of Green Bay where Sargie and her sisters have been staying. Hopefully, the vacationers will depart early enough to beat the heavy snowfall. Several inches are forecast to fall along with winds of up to 35 mph. We’re to receive one to three inches here, but without the heavy winds.

I talked with Sargie last night and she said if it’s too bad, they’ll simply stay another day. I’d rather they do that than take a chance of driving in hazardous conditions.

I read papers from students for the most day on Monday. There’s some sort of scheduling change that’s occurred at the university and it appears everyone knows about it except the guy who is teaching the classes. I’ve got one section that has almost forty students, another with hardly any. It all averages out, but I’m confused. No doubt there’ll be some clarification coming later today.

A trip to town was on the agenda. I stopped to see Yooper Brother Mark at the plant. He was busy sorting out loading and shipping schedules and keeping the plant operating smoothly on all eight cylinders.

Brutus and I walked five miles and I’m thoroughly disgusted with the knee. For everyday walking, it functions fairly well, but if used for more than a mile or two, I end up limping. The worst pain comes after a walk. It was so weak last night that I was forced to hang onto the furniture as I walked from one room to the other. How lame is that? No pun intended.

It’s been six months. I’ll give it until this spring then go back to the orthopedic man and find out what’s happening. If he can’t help me, I’ll find someone who can. Telling me that I’m no spring chicken simply isn’t an option. There are too many miles to walk and mountains to climb before old age sets in… in another thirty years or so. Once I turn ninety, I’ll accept the spring chicken excuse. Until then, I’ll continue to try to find a remedy.

I spent last evening perusing seed catalogues. There are some beautiful perennials and fruit trees rated for this growing zone I’d love to purchase, but as I told someone earlier, I have champaign tastes with a beer budget when it comes to decorative plants and expensive fruit trees. Add to that the real possibility none may survive this far north and it makes more sense to merely look at pictures and dream rather than purchase and watch them die from cold temperatures.

My eyes popped open at 3:45 this morning and I lay in bed thinking of everything that needs to be completed before Sargie arrives home later today. The house is in pretty good shape. A quick sweep of the floors should have them looking just fine. I took the flannel sheets off the bed, washed them, and they are now in the dryer. I’ve yet to clean off the dining room table. I simply don’t understand Sargie’s dislike of me keeping goodies ranging from fishing line and lures to last week’s mail, a hammer, some candy wrappers, and two dead batteries, on it’s surface.

It’s time to get busy. I’m praying the snow and wind stay away long enough so my girl can get home. I sorely miss her. Until then, there’re bales to lift and barges to tote. (… loosely borrowed from the song, Old Man River featured in the musical, Show Boat.)

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

So are the tales from Pentoga Road…

January 13, 2014 – Monday

25 degrees/cloudy/calm

Pentoga Road

Good Gravy! There’s a fly buzzing around the OUTSIDE of one window. So much for the cold blooded theory concerning insects. It’s well below freezing and is quite dark. There’s no ambient sunshine. I think a super strain of flies and ticks grow here on Pentoga Road.

We had the house sprayed last fall and that did very little good. I talked to a representative of the company, who guarantees their work, and she said she would have the owner call me and would reschedule a time to spray again. That didn’t happen and when I got an overdue bill from them in December, I sent a check with a letter saying I was quite unhappy and we were still battling flies.

Evidently they are sticking with their guarantee as the check hasn’t been cashed. I’ll have them back next summer to spray again. When they sprayed two years ago, it worked wonderfully, but someone must have forgotten to put chemicals in the water this past year.

Sunday was a yawner on Pentoga Road. I graded papers most of the morning then decided to go fishing. Since the local lake has produced almost nothing, I opted to drive to one of my favorite bodies of water about fifteen miles away.

There was nary a sign of anyone else who had been fishing this winter.

I didn’t expect much and didn’t get anything other than sore muscles from wading through very deep snow and fighting slush that was sitting on top of the ice (and under the snow.)

I tried every trick I’ve ever known to entice the fish to bite. I could see them on the sonar rising to the bait, but nothing would hit. After three hours, I gave up and made my way back to shore.

The water is discolored due to the tannin... a chemical caused by dead leaves, bark, and roots of trees. Most of our lakes and rivers are crystal clear, but some are shaded brown.

While in the area, I drove a few more miles to a large reservoir I’ve never fished and mentally made plans to return this summer with the boat. I took a few pictures and I think there were fishermen far out on the ice. I’ll know once I unload the pictures. 

Sure enough, there was a fisherman out there. A camping trailer converted into a fish shanty.

Brutus met me at the end of the drive when I returned home and we spent the next forty-five minutes playing fetch. He’s back on pain medication for his knee and it obviously helps. I finally had to call a halt to our game… the dog would have run all afternoon and night.

I carried in wood, then ran the vacuum over the floors, dusted a bit, and headed to the shower.

This morning will be spent grading papers. This is officially the first day of the second term, but since I posted the class last week, many of the students have already turned in their first assignment, some are up to week three already. That’s fine with me. I like them to spread their assignments out. It’s easier on the eyes.

There’s laundry to do today and I’ll go over the floors and dust one more time so the house is clean when Sargie arrives home tomorrow. I’ve sure missed her.

Time to warm up the coffee and get started on grading that digital stack of papers. After all, a man’s work is never done.

So are the tales from Pentoga Road…

January 12, 2014 – Sunday

22 degrees/cloudy/calm

Pentoga Road

It’s an almost ideal setting from where I write this morning. A fire in the stove, a hot cup of coffee beside me, the only light is from a small desk lamp, and a Mozart symphony playing softly in the background accompanying my thoughts. I’m grateful I realized my surroundings so that I might enjoy all to the maximum.

I have talked with Sargie and it sounds as though she and her sisters are having a ball. Saturday was spent watching movies, snacking, and enjoying each other's company. Freezing rain had fallen in the area Friday night and I think the Milligan sisters decided that was sufficient reason to stay in their suite and laze the day away. For certain, there was a lot of talking and laughing in the background during the phone call. I'm glad Sargie's having fun and getting some rest. Working the hours she does, she sure deserves it.

Saturday was a busy one here on Pentoga Road, but I’m not sure where the time went. Part of the morning was utilized grading university assignments. So far/so good.

I spent a bit of time clearing the snow that had fallen Friday night. I’ve developed a system where I plow most of it into windrows, then blow those into the yard using the snow blower. It works well, takes very little time, and I don’t have to worry about running out of room for newly fallen snow later this spring due to large snow banks along the drive.

To go ice fishing or not? Having little luck on Friday, I had difficulty motivating myself, yet it was too warm and pleasant to stay inside. In the end, I put the leash on Brutus and we hiked five miles through some, often, deep snow.

The pup had a ball. At one point, he dove headfirst into the snow then using his head as a snowplow, enjoyed tunneling through the deepest places.

I’m teaching him to carry his own leash and he does quite well with that until he forgets and opens his mouth letting the entire thing drop to the ground. As long as he has a leash on his collar, he walks alongside me perfectly. 

Once the leash is off, he wants to lead… go ahead about ten feet, stop and wait for me, then proceed another ten. 

That’s fine in the woods, but on the road with traffic, I prefer he be at my right side. We’re a good team when walking alongside the busy road. He’s quick to shove me to one side during oncoming traffic.

We were both tired when we arrived back home. I took a hot shower and changed into my usual formal evening attire, some old sweat pants and t-shirt. Brutus snuggled up to the stove and was soon sound asleep.

I threw one of the New York Strip steaks on the grill that Sargie had bought for me. Along with a baked potato, it was a happy, full, and much fatter, man who sat in this recliner last evening. I enjoyed large bowl of ice cream smothered in caramel topping after. It will be worked off once maple season arrives.

I was in bed shortly before ten and sound asleep soon after.

I’m not sure what today’s going to bring. The foldable chair that came with my Clam ice fishing tent has ripped and needs to be sewn. That’s the first chore on today’s list. After, I think I’ll load the sled into the Blazer and make my way to a small lake on the other side of town. I’ve about given up on the one at the end of the road and suspect the other lake won’t be much better. I’m beginning to get the notion that the next large fish fry we’ll enjoy will be this spring after ice-out. This winter’s sure been a bust.

One thing for certain, with the newest snowfall, unless the path has been plowed, the days of traveling unfettered across the ice are quickly coming to an end. Until now, I’ve gone anywhere I’ve wanted. From here out, I’ll be walking and pulling the sled.

But first, I’m going to pour another cup of coffee, listen to the news, and think deep thoughts.

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

So are the tales from Pentoga Road…

The Milligan Sisters
Sargie, Nancy, Jeanne, Holly

January 11, 2014 – Saturday morning

26 degrees/snow flurries/calm winds

Pentoga Road

Another four inches of snow fell while I slept last night

Seems awfully quiet around here now that Sargie’s away on her Milligan Sister Girl’s Getaway. Strange, I go through all the motions as if she’s here. I still make the bed, wash the dishes after eating, run the vacuum over the floors each afternoon, and take the dirty laundry down the basement. Old habits die hard, but honestly, there are none in the domestic department I want to change. For sure I already miss her.

Thursday morning dawned the coldest I’ve seen this winter… minus 38 degrees; thirty-eight below zero. With Sargie off to work, I opted to spend the morning inside working on my classes.

It eventually sank two more degrees, down to -38

Neighbor Mike called, asking if I might give him a hand in assembling a railing he built from native wood to go around the balcony in his camp. Mike’s not only a good carpenter, he’s also a craftsman. All the wood used in the railing is from his land. He cut and hewed each piece by hand and in the end, it’s absolutely beautiful.

Looking down from the balcony onto the living room. The beams are from an old dairy barn that was torn down on the property.

Page Two

Sargie whisked us away to Iron Mountain early Friday morning. Though she acted as though rising at 5 AM was a huge sacrifice, I noticed the girl was all smiles and giggles while preparing to leave. For the first time, ever, we were in the car fifteen minutes early, well before sunrise, driving to Holly’s in Iron Mountain.

I made popcorn, a large bag full, to send with the sisters. Each kernel was sinfully popped in butter and sprinkled with salt.

I wonder where they're going to put any goodies bought while shopping over the next few days? I suggested the first thing they purchase is a car top carrier.

After seeing the sisters off, I stopped by Walmart and purchased a new dryer vent hose.  We’ve noticed our aging dryer has been less efficient with each load. The old hose, somewhat suspect, was wrapped in duct tape and tied from the ceiling with all sorts of interesting modifications.

The ride home was pleasant. I took my time and called Mom. Her old computer is giving her more and more problems so she’s finally decided to purchase a new one. Mom and my sister were going computer shopping yesterday for a new laptop.

Page Three

Down in the dark and cool basement, I pulled out the dryer and inspected a real mess. The previous owner had obviously not spent too much thought or time on the installation of the vent; in fact, what vent? The vent hose ran up the basement wall and outside through a hastily hacked hole in the floor sill. It simply blew hot air under the front porch, no vent flap to keep critters or cold air from coming in, nothing. At least now I know where any mice caught in the basement have come from.

I thought possibly I could get to the vent opening by removing the screw nails that secured the floorboards of the porch, but there was no such luck. Large flooring spikes had been used rather than screws. I could have crawled under, a distance of twenty feet, and worked while lying on my back in a very limited space. Since its January, that didn’t seem like a viable option. I decided to go for Plan C…  do it the best I could from inside, down the basement.

I won’t go into the procedures and mutterings that took place. I’m grateful the previous owner lives several states away, and doubly thankful Sargie couldn’t hear me, as I worked over and around the water heater while guessing, more than seeing, in very poor light, and continually bumping my head on the low, overhead, rafters.

At this point, the discharge hose is completely clean. Resigned that any large changes will have to wait until spring, I rewrapped the original hose with duct tape, insulated and plugged the hole where it exits the house, and called it quits. For a person who called himself a wood worker with a flair for the artsy side of life, the previous owner sure cobbled together some fine messes. I’ll redo the entire dryer discharge system this summer.

Page Four

Student papers are beginning to pour into my inbox and I spent a couple of hours sipping coffee and reading early Friday afternoon. It appears I am going to have some good students this semester.

It was time to go fishing. Which lake? I hate making life and death decisions but opted for the closest, the one at the end of our road, the lake that supplied pounds and pounds of fresh filets last year.

I fished for almost three hours and in the end, caught only one nice bluegill. I should have stayed home and taken a nap. It’s not for lack of fish. I see them down there on the sonar, but getting them to hit is something else. With darkness approaching, I packed up and came home.

Page Five

Back in the barn, I tried filling a low tire with air, but the compressor refused to cooperate. I finally disconnected the thing and brought it into the kitchen to thaw. It reawakened and roared to life last night, proving that just like a Timex, it takes a licking, but keeps on ticking. Sargie would be so proud of me. I know she loves air compressors in the middle of her kitchen floor.

With the firewood carried in and Brutus exercised for the day, I did some light housework, then jumped in the shower and made ready for an action-packed evening of eating supper and dozing, all while pretending to watch television.

I fixed some really good nachos for dinner. I think in my previous life, I might have been a chef during the gold rush days in the Klondike’s only Mexican restaurant.

What’s on today’s agenda? I don’t know. There are several inches of new snow to remove, copious amounts of papers to grade, and then there are the NFL playoff games to watch, a nap to take, and as always, meat to put on the table. I guess I’m not surprised.

Though I've been pouring through the seed catalogues making my wish-list, gardening season seems an awfully long ways away.

We all know that a man’s work is never done.

So are the tales from Pentoga Road… 

Sundown Thursday evening

Pentoga Road

January 9, 2014 – Thursday

-36 degrees/clear/calm

Pentoga Road

Another record is broken this morning. The old lowest temperature was -15 for this date. We not only broke the record, we shattered it. I’m running about fifteen degrees colder out here in the valley than what’s showing in town. Cold air always seeks the lowest point. I think this is where it’s happening this early morning.

I enjoyed a wonderful five-mile hike along the lakes Wednesday morning. Though the temperature was well below zero, there was no wind, the sun was bright, and it was almost perfect hiking. I managed to twist my left knee, the one that was worked on last summer, when I broke through a thick crust of snow and attempted to pull it out without stopping. Nothing was seriously damaged other than my fragile ego and self esteem as I fell forward and buried my face in deep snow.

Brutus and I played outside for over two hours. I finally wore the pup down to the point that he quit retrieving his ball and simply lay in the middle of the drive refusing to run. Forced to stay inside these past two weeks, he’s had more energy than good sense. I’m happy we exhausted yesterday’s supply. Size-wise, I’m no wilting flower and Brutus is over half my size. With the latest bout of frigid weather, we’ve been forced to remain in the house and trip over each other. Indoors or out, when he decides it’s time to play, everything is fair game; my body parts, the furniture, him running across and slipping on the laminate floors. That’s all energy that’s best spent outside.

I talked for a bit with Brother Garry, and his wife, Jody, in Laurel, Mississippi. They were mostly staying inside waiting for the weather to change. Garry said he had an outside pipe or two break from the cold weather. I’m always teasing him about what a sissy he is when it comes to cold temperatures, but as we both agreed, cold is cold, no matter where one lives. I’ve been just as miserable in forty degree, rainy, and windy weather, as I have in forty below temperatures.

A highway going out to a small village of ice shacks.

Sargie’s gearing up for her girl vacation beginning on Friday. She's to be in Iron Mountain by 8 AM Friday morning, their scheduled departure time for points south. I’ve been assigned popcorn duty between now and then; making a huge bag full for the sisters to munch on during their stay.

Other than popping corn today, there’s laundry that needs to be done, another walk to take, ice fishing equipment to make ready for the promised warmer weather, the dog to exercise, and deep thoughts to think.

Snow plows can be awfully hard on mailboxes. The mailman is forced to drive up on the packed snow and reach down to put the mail in this box.

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

So are the tales from Pentoga Road…

Regardless of the weather, there's wood to split and carry in every day.