Monday Meander - May 3, 2021

The place has been tidied up and the welcome mat is out.

I harken to the road outside my door, waiting to hear the unmistakable and oh-so-familiar rumble of the big truck coming in off the highway. 

My heart swells with joy to see this event unfold before my eyes this morning. Why? Because the annual delivery of firewood is blessedly normal. It is reassuring to this old soul that the cycle of seasons still rolls on, not just those in nature but also those that shape my life in this place. 

And so, this first full week of May begins with comfort and joy, throwing off the pall of gloomy wet weather that has been hanging around for too many days. 

...but all shall be well,

all shall be well,

and all manner of thing shall be well.

Julian of Norwich (1342 - 1416)

My soul must have been working with these words of hope and trust as my hands went to work this past week to finish the pandemic cross-stitch piece I began in early 2020. I hesitated to add my initials and end date because I had originally felt that I would not do so until the pandemic was over. But hope and smiles bloom...

Fini! 

©2021 April Hoeller

Monday Moanings - May 13, 2019

Here I sit, legs tucked up inside my wagon, reluctant to kick off into a new week. I'm going to need a push, maybe more like a boot up the backside. It's as dreary an internal landscape as it is outside my door today.

I'm tucked into an old heavy cardigan as I write this, a mug of steaming chai within easy reach. And I confess that wore my winter jacket earlier this morning when I went into town. I'm thinking it's a good day for a curry - something fragrant with the promise of warmth and exotic flavours so very unlike the damp gloominess of the day.

Spring - where are you? A year ago, at this time, it was short-sleeves, hats and sunscreen weather. A year ago, I went fishing on Mother's Day. I got a whole mess of rainbow trout with a little help from my fishing buddies and the fact that it was a trout farm. Not only that but Spring was busting out all over and pollen was in free-flow.

But fear not my friends, a sure sign Spring in the land rolled onto our street this past Friday morning and right up our driveway. Yes indeed, the annual truckload of next winter's firewood arrived, all 5+ tons of it. With air brakes sighing, the familiar white truck rolled in from the highway, right on time.

John, from John's Firewood, has the routine down pat. In one fluid movement, he backs his rig in from the road, lines it up with the woodshed, then tips the bucket. With a ground-shaking rumble three bush cords of split hardwood tumble out. He pulls the rig forward, gives the bucket a good thump or three to shake any last bits out and pulls back onto the driveway.

Job Done in under three minutes!

And there's more good news! The birds are emptying the feeders at a great clip and they have been joined by the hummingbirds and Baltimore Orioles.

So if I ignore the weather, Spring is coming along in just about everything else. That's a good thought for this Monday Moaning. It might even be enough to push me into this week with a smile and a renewed hope for sunshine.

Cheers!

©2019 April Hoeller

Thursday, or Thereabouts - May 10, 2018

Spring - the 2018 edition

Spring has been having some trouble getting a foothold in these parts. Since the equinox on March 20, there have been some stellar days, days that have warmed our hearts and fertilized our garden dreams, followed by way too many days of chill and frost and ice pellets. While May has shown far more promise than her predecessor April, as I sit at my desk today, I'm reading of a few frost warnings for tonight. But fear not my friends, a sure sign of warmth and contentment, real heat and blazing light rolled onto our street yesterday morning and right up our driveway.

Yes indeed, the annual truckload of next winter's firewood arrived, all 5+ tons of it. With air brakes sighing, the familiar white truck rolled in from the highway, right on time.

John, from John's Firewood, has the routine down pat. In one fluid movement, he backs his rig in from the road, lines it up with the woodshed, then tips the bucket.

With a ground-shaking rumble three bush cords of split hardwood tumble out. He pulls the rig forward, gives the bucket a good thump or three to shake any last bits out and pulls back onto the driveway.

Job Done in under three minutes!

All that remains to be done is 20+ hours of stacking 384 cubic feet of firewood. Easy peasy - especially when compared to what my love and I used to do back in our "pioneer" days. Thirty-five or so years ago, in the land before children, full-length logs were dumped in front of the woodshed. We cut, split and stacked. There was even one summer (and only ONE!) when we helped clear a government woodlot. We felled the trees and hauled them out to the tractor, which then delivered them to be cut, split and stacked.

1985 with the first of our four-pawed children, Sheba.

2018

Well, there's little more than a month to get the stacking done before travel plans take over the timetable, and I do love making order out of chaos, so I'd best get out there.

The birds are singing, the hanging baskets are up and the firewood has been dumped.

Spring - the 2018 edition - has sprung!

©2018 April Hoeller