Stackin’ Wood
Few things in life give a sense of accomplishment like laying in wood for the winter. Maybe running a marathon or completing an advanced degree in Astrophysics or finishing the Kenworth platter at Deano’s. Whatever. All I’m saying is that when you start the day with a giant pile of wood to split and finish the day with a neatly stacked pile of wood ready for burning when it finally gets nasty cold outside (or, as my friend Ivan has been known to say, “ass cold”) it feels really good. That might just be the Short’s Brew India Pale Ale talking, because after splitting and stacking a couple tons of firewood, one needs a decent ale and a lot of Ben Gay. Both should be applied strategically. For instance, Ben Gay should not be taken internally, but a good IPA simply cannot be appreciated otherwise.
Let’s just say that when I waved goodbye to Carmen and Sheryce, my two crazy friends who volunteered to help me, I walked back in the moonlight to view a looming tower of wood and sighed with relief. I’d started the day with about 2 days worth of wood ready. I finished the day with enough for about a month and a half. Of course, I need another 3 months worth, but what the heck. Here’s the thing though: most of it is still totally wet. ATTENTION CITY FOLK: wet wood is bad. The good thing is that my outdoor wood furnace can burn darn near anything. The bad news is that it craps up the inside of the furnace something fierce. The wood was dropped in July, but since I’m just now splitting it, its still really wet. Give me a break, I totally gutted and redid my kids’ rooms in August and we had soccer up until 2 weeks ago.
Now, here’s the thing. I had a ton of help. I borrowed the splitter from Carmen. I borrowed the hands of Sheryce. Many hands make light work. Both helped me with some real manual labor to get things done. We did this while their kids played in the hot tub – managing to blow the breaker with all the splashing, I might add – and playing Pacman on the TV (thanks Jackks Pacific!) – or riding around in the bucket of the Kubota. I’m sure that’s an OSHA violation, but I also think OSHA is based in a city somewhere.
Finally, it got too dark to work, even with the Kubota’s headlights illuminating the splitter. Note to Kubota: next time you redesign the Grand series, put the damn headlights somewhere not totally blocked by the loader bucket that 99% of your tractors are equipped with. We headed inside and let the kids play card games and hide n’ seek while we warmed up with coffee and craft brewed India Pale Ale. Drinking IPA and using a Kubota might disqualify me from “true country” but for an urban to rural transplant, it was just fine with me. Now, where is the Ben Gay?
0 comments Saturday 28 Nov 2009 | Ben | Life
