The sun shining through the haze on Tuesday morning

February 19, 2014 – Wednesday

23 degrees/clear/calm (the calm before the storm)

Pentoga Road

I lay in bed earlier this morning mentally constructing what the day ahead should look like and it appears I don’t have time to walk, at least first thing this morning. There’s too much to do while the weather remains good. It’s time to make hay while the sun shines.

I took full advantage of Tuesday’s above freezing weather, the first we’ve had in weeks, but it seems like months or even years. I began by shoveling off the back deck. As I was walking away, a goodly amount of snow slid off the tin roof and covered it again. Once more, I shoveled and was about to finish when another avalanche fell from the roof. I was tempted to get the snow rake and simply clean the entire side, but I had bigger fish to fry, the driveway.

The snow around the deck is beginning to get a bit deep

As I finished plowing the drive, I noticed it was getting narrow, too narrow if we receive as much snow from this coming storm as forecast. Only one thing to do; I cranked up the old Ford 8N tractor, pulled it from the barn for the first time this year, greased the fittings, checked the oil, and began moving the snow banks.

The Ford and I are exactly the same age. We’re twins and as with many twins, are equally ugly. I looked up the serial number several years ago and found my beloved tractor was made in June of 1952, my birth date. So, when it creaks and groans in protest, I can well identify.

It took over three hours to widen the drive. I moved snow banks and dumped several tons of what’s fallen this winter either back further in the yard or took it to the ditch across the road. In the end, I think a person could land a plane sideways in the drive, let alone lengthways.

My attentions next turned to the snow on the maple/wood sheds. Last year, I left the snow on top and when I began the process of boiling sap, the snow melted, water ran down the slope to the back, dripped from the roof, and flowed straight into my fire. I ended up hauling in gravel to raise the level inside the shed so the fire could burn over the puddles and would be out of the mud.

I always think a good offense is the best defense. I put the bucket of the tractor up to the roof and shoveled this year’s snow into that and carted it away so that it might be completely out of the area. More will fall between now and maple syrup time, but at least the first layer is removed.

Brutus and I played fetch for well over an hour before calling it a day. We walked in the house about an hour before Sargie was due home.

We didn’t do much last night… watched a bit of tv and talked. I spent some time looking at seed catalogues. I’ve still not made my orders. That will happen after the weather turns bad in another day or two.

Sargie works late today, her last before she takes a mini vacation of four days. We’re looking forward to her time off. Thursday morning will be busy with appointments in Iron Mountain. Hopefully, we’ll get to enjoy a Chinese buffet before the next winter storm comes galloping in.  Sister Nancy is sponsoring the first annual Mighty Milligan Sledding Adventure this coming Saturday on Milligan’s Mountain if the weather is halfway nice.

I’m going to get on the roof of the living room fairly soon and shovel the several feet of snow from that before it begins to melt and the tin roof gets too slippery. I’m certain the load factor could handle anything Mother Nature throws at us, but I’d rather err on the side of caution.

Removing the snow from the roof on the left, over the living room, is the first project for today

Hopefully, I’ll make it to the dump today as we’re out of garbage can space. All eight are full. First, I have to shovel out the bed of the Man Truck. It seems nothing is ever simple this time of the year, but then, I’m not surprised.

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

So are the tales from Pentoga Road…

February 18, 2014 – Tuesday

5 degrees/cloudy/calm

Pentoga Road

The days keep plodding along in a late winter fashion with no big ups or downs and all seem to qualify for the in between category. At least there’s a promise of above-freezing temperatures in the forecast for today and Wednesday, the first we’ve seen in weeks, almost months. I’m hoping to get out the old Ford tractor and move some large piles of snow from alongside the drive. If the past is any indication of the future, March and April signal our heavy snow months. I heard on the weather last night that we’ve already exceeded last year’s total snowfall.

Snow had covered the stand pipe on the roof. Thankfully, that was reached with the roof rake and I didn't have to attempt to crawl up on the tin roof covered with snow.

The weather people are already talking about the big storm that might hit us on Thursday; a possibility of large amounts of heavy wet snow and /or freezing rain. Yummy.

Issued by The National Weather Service

... STRONG WINTER STORM MAY IMPACT UPPER MICHIGAN LATE THIS WEEK...

THE LATEST FORECAST INFORMATION INDICATES THAT A SIGNIFICANT WINTER STORM MAY TAKE AIM ON THE UPPER GREAT LAKES REGION THURSDAY AND THURSDAY NIGHT. THE EXACT TRACK OF THE LOW PRESSURE SYSTEM IS STILL UNCERTAIN AND COULD CHANGE. AS IT STANDS NOW... HEAVY SNOW ALONG WITH FREEZING RAIN AND SLEET WOULD OCCUR OVER UPPER MICHIGAN. THE HEAVIEST SNOW WOULD OCCUR LATE THURSDAY AND THURSDAY NIGHT OVER THE WESTERN HALF OF UPPER MICHIGAN. WARM AIR MOVING ACROSS THE EASTERN HALF OF UPPER MICHIGAN WILL SWITCH SNOW OVER TO A MIX OF FREEZING RAIN AND SLEET BY THURSDAY EVENING WITH ICING POSSIBLE. BEHIND THE LOW PRESSURE SYSTEM... VERY STRONG WEST WINDS WILL RESULT IN SIGNIFICANT BLOWING AND DRIFTING SNOW OVER THE KEWEENAW PENINSULA ON FRIDAY WITH BLIZZARD CONDITIONS POSSIBLE. THIS SYSTEM COULD RESULT IN VERY DIFFICULT TRAVEL ACROSS THE UPPER GREAT LAKES REGION THURSDAY INTO FRIDAY. STAY TUNED TO LATER FORECASTS AND STATEMENTS FROM THE NATIONAL WEATHER SERVICE IN MARQUETTE AS THE WEEK PROGRESSES.

Naturally, Sargie is off at the end of the week and weekend and has an obligation  Thursday morning in Iron Mountain. While she’s there, I have an appointment to take the Kia to the auto glass place for a windshield replacement. Maybe we can get all our running around done before the storm arrives. More importantly, I’ve promised to treat her to a Chinese luncheon buffet while we’re in town. Missing the her appointment or getting the windshield replaced would not be good, but having to forego a Chinese restaurant buffet? Tragic!

Bringing in Monday evening's supply of wood

Page Two

Mark and Sheri invited us for supper on Sunday evening. Sheri put on quite the spread of one of my favorite meals; chicken, mashed taters and gravy, salad, rolls, and all sorts of goodies. Mark made an old Italian dish, planetia or plenencia (or something like that,) and I’m sure it’s misspelled… a cornmeal mush sort of dish that has the consistency of mashed rutabagas that one can either cover with spaghetti sauce or gravy. It was really good and I had seconds on that one!

At any rate, Jerad come for supper and the five of us had no problem finding plenty to talk about as we inhaled Sheri’s delicious food. Sargie and I worked our kitchen charm earlier in the day and made a two-layer carrot cake for dessert.

Page Three

I was up before 4 AM Monday and decided to immediately begin to read and grade the pile of assignments that had come in during the night. All were due at the beginning of the week. It was nice having fresh eyes and I plowed through the majority in the morning hours, finishing in the early afternoon. I see there are more to read and grade today.

I’ve walked five miles every day and am happy that my knee no longer has a painful twinge if I use it too much. I think with a year’s worth of conditioning, I’ll be ready to attempt the Appalachian Trail a year from March. Next comes the core strength training. The legs are in fairly good shape, but the body is that of an old, out-of-shape, flabby man. This summer, I’ll begin to climb the old ski hill in Caspian with a loaded pack along with an occasional stroll up the ski jump hill in Iron Mountain.

I started the Man Truck recently and moved it into the drive. It's ready for another season of use.

Page Three

The wood stove began smoking on Sunday night which can only mean one thing… the flue was obstructed. Since the chimney is only 8 feet long and our roof is tin, I built a larger fire in hopes that it might burn out whatever was clogging the airway. No such luck.

So on Monday, with snow pounding down accompanied by a wind to blow it sideways, I climbed the extension ladder and discovered the screen that surrounds the flue to keep birds and bats from entering, was completely clogged. I almost did a dance of joy right there on the roof.

I found the flue fairly clean, certainly good enough that we can wait until this summer to run the scrubber up and down the interior. I cleaned the screen and suddenly, the stove was back to burning clean and smoke-free.

Sargie plowed home through several inches of snow and arrived safe and sound last evening. It appears four or five inches fell, enough to get out the plow and shovel today and clean the drive before the next storm arrives.

Somehow, I don't think this old house has a lot of insulation, but it does have some great icicles!

I’m putting in my order for garden seeds today. Once the tomato, pepper, and other plant-seeds arrive, I’ll erect the indoor greenhouse and begin the process for this coming summer. Lord knows, I think everyone in the UP, (the coldest place on Earth in January!!) is ready for a nice summer.

I had last summer's basil hanging in the greenhouse. It's been brought in and crushed.

But first, it’s time for another cup of coffee.

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

So are the tales from Pentoga Road…

The stove is once again burning hot and clean. So is the bulldog.

February 16, 2014 – Sunday

-3 degrees/sunny/calm

Pentoga Road

Saturday was a carbon copy of most the days gone by. The temperature warmed up into the lower teens by afternoon and the wind remained fairly calm. I started on the laundry after arriving home from my walk. I loaded the washer, added the pouch of detergent, and pulled the knob to allow the water to flow. What water?

I tried both the hot and cold… nothing. Sargie’s hair dryer came to the rescue. The washer sits on the west wall of the basement, just below the casement window. Though the window is well covered with Styrofoam, that area is the only one in the basement directly exposed to the elements.

So far, we’ve had no trouble with the water lines; I imagine because enough is used during the day and night to keep it from beginning to freeze. It seems water will freeze anyplace it is allowed to remain stagnant along that wall, thus the washer.

Thawing only took about five minutes and I was soon washing the various piles of clothes that Sargie had previously sorted.

Most of the municipalities have issued orders for people to run their water all night in a stream the size of a pencil. I read that there are hundreds, if not thousands, of cases of people whose water has frozen. I guess the frost is being driven deep into the ground, feet and feet, and those on city or township water are suffering the most.

So far, so good, for the pipe that brings the well water into our house through the basement wall. It’s only a few feet deep, but several feet of snow cover the ground over head. We’re keeping our fingers crossed.

Yooper Brother Mark stopped out for a couple of hours and we spent the time catching up on their trip to Florida. It was good to see him after a week’s absence.

I began working in the basement, putting things away and straightening. Later, I attacked the upstairs with the vacuum, broom, and dustpan. It must be the anticipation of spring or possibly a mental illness, but I had the biggest urge to get things done, complete chores, so that when warmer weather arrives, I can best spend my time outside. AC/DC was cranked up on the stereo and I was a cleaning man who was out of control, almost possessed.

Brutus and I went through our usual afternoon activities of playing fetch then bringing in the night’s supply of wood; pretty mundane stuff.

Sargie arrived home early and we had a wonderful evening of talking, watching tv, and simply relaxing.

I made the mistake of stepping on the bathroom scales this morning. Whew, it seems my belly as grown proportionately with the amount of snowfall we've received this winter. I hope we don't get a big snowstorm, otherwise, I'll be looking for a tent and awning company from which to purchase my clothes.

I’m going to take my daily walk pretty soon and then plow the newest snowfall from the drive.

Sargie’s off today and it appears we’ll go through our usual day-off routine. No doubt there’ll be an afternoon drive, probably stop and grab a Coke, maybe stick our nose in at a store or two. I need to run the snowmobile over the maple trails to pack down this past week’s snowfall in anticipation of next month’s tapping of trees. Of course, it all depends on the weather. The way this winter has unfolded, it could be the Fourth of July before maple season begins.

Time to strap on the shoes and get to walking. I don’t maintain this young, finely chiseled body of a young boy without a great amount of effort.

But then I’m not surprised. After all, a man’s work is never done.

So are the tales from Pentoga Road… 

February 15, 2014 - Saturday
-21/clear/calm
Pentoga Road

I sent the following email to my friends who live in Alaska earlier this morning.

Dear Alaska Friends,

I have been worried this winter, thinking that I was becoming unAlaskafied, when I began feeling colder than normal and fantasizing about warmer weather, spring, green grass, and water that was liquid. 

As you know, I've always prided myself on my toughness, my ability to withstand (and often pay the consequences for) severe cold and adverse conditions. I've been concerned that I might be turning into a sissy. In fact, I recently observed someone drinking one of those fifi drinks with an umbrella sticking out the top and started to think it looked good... not the drink, but the umbrella. I even caught myself using some of Sargie's hand cream when my skin became so dry that it cracked and began bleeding. I wondered what might follow, a new-found lisp accompanied by a tight-cheeked walk; all very unAlaskan. It's been a painful mental ordeal.

You can imagine how much better I feel now that the area surrounding Iron River, Michigan, where our home is, was recently pronounced the COLDEST PLACE ON EARTH for the month of January. Here is the link: http://www.ironmountaindailynews.com/page/content.detail/id/544563.html.

I no longer feel badly for covering my face while taking my daily five-mile stroll through the wilderness. The fact that my four-foot long ice auger will no longer reach the water when wanting to go ice fishing doesn't bother me a bit. I don't have to feel guilty when, clad only in my BVD's, I get a chill when I run outside in the middle of the night to gather an armful of wood of firewood. To heck with those who enjoy drinks with fifi umbrellas! Simply said, Tommy P's got his mojo back! I live in the coldest place on the earth.

So, if you want to "play" tough outdoorsman, pretend to endure harsh elements, and emulate all those who star in the Discovery Channel's outdoor shows, stay in Alaska. But, if you want to REALLY freeze your backside off, come on down south and join us Yoopers where we separate the boys from the Boy Scouts. 

I'd write more, but suddenly, I feel so downright manly and giddy that I think I'll run outside and splash some water on my bare chest, all the while laughing and making fun of those who live in warmer climes and obviously aren't nearly as hardy. It's 7 AM, CST, and the thermometer is registering a rather balmy -21 degrees, a heatwave compared to the -33 with twenty-five mph winds of three days ago.

In closing... if you want to play like you're an outdoorsman, stay in Alaska, in fact, head up to Kotzebue. You can stay in my cabin. But if you REALLY desire a winter experience, come on down to the UP of Michigan, the perfect place to retire after living in Alaska so you can continue to dream of (literally) greener pastures.

Most sincerely,

Wrong Way Tom - the guy who retired "down south" and is still battling a continual case of frost bite and peeling skin since last Christmas

Sargie and I dancing earlier this morning to celebrate Valentine's Day

February 14, 2014 – Friday – Valentine’s Day!

-1 degrees/clear/calm

Pentoga Road

Happy Valentine’s Day to all the young lovers out there… and we’re all young lovers at heart. If you're not, you need to go live under a bridge and wait for Billy goats to pass overhead. Though most of us no longer go to the Five and Dime to buy our large packet of Valentine’s Day cards so we might carefully sign each to put in our classmate’s homemade construction paper mailboxes, it’s still nice to have one day a year that celebrates nothing but pure, unadulterated, love.

Valentine’s Day was huge for Dad. He always bought Mom a dozen red roses, back when only flower shops carried them, they cost dollars per bud, and most were imported from far and distant lands. Dad also bought Mom a huge heart-shaped box of chocolates and a small one for my sister and me.

Dad was a romantic, a living Mr. Valentine. The man might hear a slow song he liked on the radio and would gather Mom in his arms and immediately begin to dance. Dad wasn’t slow to show the world how much he cared for Mom. When it came to Mom, he lived Valentine’s Day year round.  

Somewhere along the way, in this modern era of digital convenience, it seems Valentine’s Day has taken a back seat to the newest cause-of-the-day. We can read about Russia failing to recognize the gay/lesbian movement, what kind of rock band a snow boarder plays in, or how long your President’s last vacation was, but one doesn’t read much about the only day we celebrate pure love. I don’t understand it, but then I don’t have to. Here on Pentoga Road, Sargie and I still celebrate Valentine’s Day. Wonderful.

It snowed on Thursday. After my morning walk, Brutus and I cleared the back patio and drive, then turned our attentions to playing fetch. It wasn’t the blood and guts variety… I’m still healing from our last wrestling match.

The afternoon was spent grading assignments.

I talked with my buddy, Scott, in Atlanta, Georgia, who is recovering from a motorcycle accident. He’s home now and continues to heal. Though we occasionally send emails back and forth, it was good to actually have a conversation with him. The boy is upbeat, very positive, and knowing Scott as I do, he’ll be on his feet in the shortest amount of time possible. Scott prefers to do his deep thinking while on the move.

It was cold and snowy… a good day for vegetable/beef stew. I grabbed any and every type of vegetable I could get my hands on, added some good old fashioned beef, and made a huge pot yesterday. Topped with dumplings, it simmered all day and made the house smell wonderful. I enjoyed going outside so that I could re-enter and smell it all over again.

I was asked how I make my dumplings. They are easy. I just use Krusteez Pancake Mix… add a bit of water, make the dough to the desired consistency, and drop spoonfuls into the boiling stew. They come out perfect every time.

Sargie had an appointment with her beautician after work, but cancelled due to the heavy snow that was falling. Home early Thursday evening, the girl came bearing gifts. She gave me two long sleeved t-shirts, the type I wear every day in the winter months, (one a Packers shirt!) and a new “knock around” coat. My old coat, one I’ve had since my arctic days, finally gave up the ghost a few weeks ago. I kept up the family tradition and got her a dozen red roses. I’ve also been known to wrap my arms around her and dance when a slow tune comes on the radio.

Sargie closes tonight and won’t be home until late. I’ve got papers to grade, five miles to hike, snow to plow, and fetch to play. No doubt, there’s enough laundry to wash a load or two. It’s going to be a busy one, but then, I’m not surprised.

A man’s work is never done.

So are the tales from Pentoga Road…

Pentoga Road

It was -33 on Tuesday morning when I took my walk. Reminded me of the old arctic days.

February 13, 2014 – Thursday

4 degrees/calm/cloudy

Pentoga Road

It certainly is hard to write these days. I think I write more for something to do rather than to relay information. The days run into each other without any real defining characteristics. I keep busy and am not complaining, but how does one describe a very average, if not mundane, late winter lifestyle.

Homemade bread is always good on these cold winter mornings

I took Brutus to the animal hospital on Tuesday. He was the model puppy, entertaining the vet techs and anyone else who happened to come into the waiting room. The big boy did all his tricks, shake with both paws, lay down and roll over to play “alligator,” and even sang for the receptionist.

The doctor also enjoyed Brutus’s antics and spent almost an hour poking and prodding, but mostly he played with him and kept saying, “Isn’t he fun?”

The prognosis… Brutus once again poked himself in his groin with a stick or other sharp object and infection set in. The prescribed antibiotics have already made a huge difference and my puppy is back to normal.

He has arthritis in his right knee, but that we already knew. Someday, his lifestyle will probably slow down, but we’ll cross that bridge when we get there.

That being said, the dog got carsick during the trip to and from the vet’s emptying the contents of his belly all over the back of the Blazer. Thankfully, I’d spread out his doggie blanket before we left, so most of the mess is now outside, firmly frozen to the blanket, to be cracked off and disposed of before the blanket is put into the wash machine.

The past two days have been spent walking, five miles each day, later grading assignments, listening to music, and of course, going outside to play.

Brutus and I played a game of blood and guts fetch yesterday for almost an hour. That’s where I throw the ball, he retrieves it, then if he drops it at my feet without my having to remind him, I tackle the big boy in the snow and we wrestle for a minute or two. Problem is, he gets me down, stands over me, then begins to lick my face. I start to laugh, so hard that I’m completely incapacitated and at his mercy. I don’t mind telling you, we live on the edge here on Pentoga Road.

Grill season seems a long ways away

Some of this winter’s snow let go and fell from the roof onto the back deck yesterday. I would generally use the snow blower, but there’s no spark. I changed plugs and still no fire. I’ll wait until summer to have the beast worked on, or maybe Andy can take a look at it when he’s up the next time. Whatever, I’m not going to spend any money on it this late in the year. I’ve got the four-wheeler and plow and am well equipped to move snow.

Sargie’s been working some long hours. One of her co-workers has been ill, so the Vision Center has been running short handed. She didn’t get in until past 8 last night after working two hours past her scheduled quit time. Tonight will hopefully be more normal, but she closes Friday and Saturday. This week is a marathon work session for my favorite optician in the world.

So that’s about all the news. There’s just not a lot going on. I continue spending hours estimating what sort of storage building I want, mostly calculating costs. I got an estimate yesterday for a forty foot storage container, in mint condition, with a wind ventilator installed, for $4,300. I can build an attached addition to the barn for around $1,500 to $2,000 if I used treated plywood for the floor over a gravel base. Wooden kits, precut and purchased from Home Depot or Menards seem to run around a thousand dollars more.

I think I’m approaching this whole building thing way too scientifically. I need to take the same attitude with it as I did while building the doghouse last summer. I’ll simply start, enjoy my time and efforts, and when I’m finished, I’m finished. In reality, I imagine that’s what I’ll do and it will come out just fine. It’s the way I roll.

Time to get this uploaded and get ready for my morning walk. I see we’ve got up to four inches of snow forecast. It’ll soon be time to plow and shovel… and think deep thoughts.

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

So are the tales from Pentoga Road…

February 11, 2014 – Tuesday

-33 degrees/clear/calm

Pentoga Road

It was exactly 3:37 AM. I remember raising up on one elbow and looking at the clock. No alarm can rouse anyone from a deep slumber quicker than our furnace does with me by the simple act of turning on. No matter how hard I try to go back to sleep, I can only picture dollar signs as the metal monster inhales gallons of expensive fuel oil.

So here I am. It’s barely past 4 AM and I’m feeding logs into the wood stove. At least Brutus is lying on my feet keeping them toasty.

I’m racking my brain trying to remember what I did on Monday. It must have been really important as nothing of any significance comes to mind.

The early morning hike went well. I clicked off the five miles in a winter record-breaking time of one hour, seventeen minutes. That would be a fair pace in the summer months when I’m dressed in light shorts, a polyester t-shirt, and ultra light running shoes, but it’s a virtual blur (for me) while wearing winter boots and several pounds of heavy cold-weather gear.

For the majority of the hike, I had to suppress the urge to jog or run. The orthopedic doctor who worked on my knee told me walking is great, but NEVER run. It was jogging that tore my left knee apart last spring; old parts/hard pavement. So I lower my cardio standards a bit and remain contented by simply walking.

Other than grade university assignments and feed the stove, I spent much of Monday researching my two latest obsessions, building or obtaining a portable storage building and looking at towable backhoes. When the temperature refuses to budge above zero for days on end, one does what’s necessary to keep his mind busy.

What I do know is that either costs a lot of money and neither is completely necessary, especially the backhoe.

I’ve analyzed about every type of storage option available. A kit of precut lumber from Home Depot or Menards? How about a forty-foot shipping container hauled in from Minneapolis and tucked back behind the barn? Then there’s the glorified tin building kit, one that involves hundreds of thousands tiny nuts and bolts to hold pieces of lightweight aluminum together. I’ve even looked at carports with sides. The variety, size, and shape, of storage facilities are almost endless, but they all have one thing in common… money, and lots of it. It’s just a question of how much one wants to spend. Personally, I don’t want to spend any, but that doesn’t appear to be an option.

And then there’s this backhoe obsession of mine. Where has that come from? I’ve looked at portable lightweight machines that are barely more than toys to heavy duty ones that could double as Sherman tanks in time of war. I talked with a dealer in California yesterday who delighted in telling me how he’s had several of his units air-lifted to small gold mines in the wilds of Alaska. He didn’t know he was talking to a bush Alaskan so I let him spout his sales pitch while I asked detailed geographical questions. I have no idea if his backhoes are any good, but he knows his remote Alaska geography.

I don’t want to mine gold, I simply want to make trails, uproot a tree or two, dig out a few stumps, and do some general landscaping-type work.

I looked at gardening and nursery magazines Monday until the eye power gave out. This could be the year of the gooseberry bush. I like gooseberries, the wild ones grow well in this area, and I’m considering purchasing half a dozen tame plants for pies and jellies in the future. Several newer varieties are thorn-free, a real plus. There are many bushes and trees I’d like to purchase, but just like the storage buildings and backhoes, they cost money and none are really necessary.

So that was my Monday; lots of dreaming, figuring, dreaming, calculating, dreaming, and picturing myself building, digging holes, making trails, and planting trees and berry bushes all over the property. I’m a real storage, hole-digging, landscaping,  horticultural, Walter Mitty, what can I say?

Brutus and I are taking a journey to the animal hospital later today so he can get a lump on his groin examined. It’s the same one the doctor looked at last summer. At the time, he withdrew fluid and said it was an infection caused by Brutus’s ramming a stick or some other foreign object into that muscle, then becoming infected. The lump went down and seemed to heal, but I guess that chapter’s not yet finished.

I found some left over antibiotics from last summer’s treatment and started giving them to Brutus the night before last and sure enough, the lump has subsided. I was hoping for a simple refill, but the doctor wants to examine him. Just like the storage building, the backhoe, and the nursery items, it costs money. Oh well, Brutus not only makes Sargie and me laugh a lot and provides wonderful company to an otherwise too-docile household, he hauls me out of the woods and takes pretty good care of me.

I’m going to have to make a trek to the transfer station; aka “the dump” this week. We’re completely out of garbage cans for the non-burnable trash. Since there’s a minimum charge, I wait until all eight cans are completely filled before making a dump run. It’s time.

It’s 5 AM, the house has warmed sufficiently so the furnace isn’t running, and Sargie doesn’t have to be up for another hour. Hmm, I could go upstairs, get between the flannel sheets, snuggle with Sargie, and slip in another hour of sleep before the day officially begins. I think that’s my newest obsession, and this one doesn't cost any money.

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

So are the tales from Pentoga Road…