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09 November 2007 @ 11:59 pm
tales from SnowWhiteLand™  
Last week, we had two cords of wood delivered. As with the past two years, we knew we wouldn’t be home, so we left a check on the door and told the guys to dump it at the top of the driveway. Usually, Don spends an entire weekend hefting the wood over to the woodpile. During the season, we hike out - in chill or rain or snow - past the shed to the pricker and grapevine covered shelter to fetch wood to feed our handsome green soapstone woodstove.

This year, things were a little different. Firstly, the day the wood arrived, I hauled a dozen wheelbarrows-ful over to the pile and split and stacked it. Hey, I was home and I wanted the workout. Plus, it's sort of fun; nothing makes one feel quite so badass as a maul. In addition, though, I wanted an actual, honest-to-goodness wood rack near the house: metal frame with a fitted tarp cover. Most of the wood could go in the regular stacks, sure - but I wanted to have a supply close to hand that we could use to replenish the hod inside. On fine days, we could restock the rack near the house. As luck would have it, our local hardware store was having an wacky cheap sale on these wood racks - so wacky and cheap, in fact, that they’d sold out. We placed an order and lo! I picked it up today. After setting it up, I spent an hour splitting and stacking wood onto it (memo to self: we still need the cover!) and then spent another hour and a half hauling wheelbarrows-ful of wood over to the woodpile proper. I split and stacked and then spent a while chopping kindling. If I may say: RAWR!

There’s still a bit of a pile left to be dealt with; Don will likely deal with it on the morrow. I think he’s a bit unsettled. Normally, this whole wood thing is his baby, and I’ve sort of gone mad with it. I can’t feel too badly, though. I got a whole lot of work done, got a great workout in the doing, and learned a bit about splitting wood. It’s amazing how intuitive it is, and how zen. When it comes down to the light, to the fall of rain, to the angle at which the wood was cut and to the knots and whorls and the focus when you heft the maul above you... sort of wonderful and beautiful. And, oh, yeah: completely badass.
I feel: accomplishedaccomplished
Artimis Lebeauartimis_lebeau on November 10th, 2007 02:28 pm (UTC)
There is something about swinging an axe like tool down towards a chunk of wood, hitting it and seeing it split into two pieces... I use to love splitting wood, still do, just do not have a need for it now. Plus the old saying "Those who split their own wood are twice warmed"...