Thursday, or Thereabouts - April 28, 2016

Spring has Sprung?

Well sort of - she's really having trouble getting a foothold isn't she? There have been a couple of stellar days, days that have warmed our hearts and fertilised our garden dreams, followed by many more days of chill and frost and ice pellets. But fear not my friends, a sure sign of warmth and contentment, real heat and blazing light rumbled onto our street this morning and right up our driveway:

Yes indeed, the annual truckload of next winter's firewood arrived this morning, 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 mighty roar 3 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.

Here's the video: Firewood Delivery 2016 

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.

with the first of furry four-pawed children

Thirty 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.

Ahh, those were the days ... then again, maybe these are the days...

Well I've got just twelve days to get stacking done before surgery will sideline me from any heavy lifting for at least six weeks. I really don't want to be spending my recuperative time looking out the window watching my love do the job alone, a job we've always done together. Besides, I do love making order out of chaos, so I'd best get out there.

The frost is out of the ground and the birds are singing.
Spring - the 2016 version -  has sprung!

©2016 April Hoeller

Monday Moanings - May 25, 2015

An Old Bag of Bones

I went to the gym this morning only to be confronted with too many things I couldn't do. I lurched and stumbled through my routine. I had to back off all the weights. I had to settle for the treadmill, my least favourite cardio machine. Why you may ask?  Because my back has betrayed me. It has up and decided to go out on strike because I asked it to do something it has been doing without complaint for nearly forty years. Now I ask you, is that anyway to be treated? Of course not!

I know what I'm doing. I've honed my skills over the years to near perfection and great satisfaction. Like a diamond cutter choosing just the right spot to cleave a rough stone, I study each sixteen inch high piece before hefting the axe high overhead. Then with full body swing I bring it down across the wood face. A sharp decisive crack announces a perfect strike. With a straight line splintering, one becomes two. It's magic!

Though we get almost all of our firewood cut, split and delivered and have done so for the past ten years or so, I still manage to get my swings in each year. There is always dead fall to be cleared out of the forested part of our land. A week ago we set our sights on the mighty poplar which came down in a wind storm some eight months ago. Chain saw, splitting wedges, sledge hammer and wheel barrow got trekked into the woods. Umpteen loads of pre-cut logs came out. Time for my splitting skills.

For the record, I do wear steel toed boots when working in the wood lot.

Day 1 went really well! Though I did note a little muscle stiffness along my right side. Given size of the tree we were working I was neither surprised nor alarmed. Day 2, I threw myself once again into my work. Split wood fell left, right and centre. Then a twinge of pain developed in my left lower back, not a terrible pain but one that announced itself clearly with every swing of the ax. I finished off with half a dozen more swings, (but maybe it was double that?), then called it 'job done' for the day.

OUCH! The sledge gave way too.

Hindsight is such a marvellous thing - I really should have stopped at the first twinge. But I've always split wood! Every year I hone my axe swinging skills and I've never suffered more than sore triceps and abs. By last Thursday, the anticipation of the explosion of back pain suggested by a mere hint of a sneeze coming on, was enough to send me into a panic. I am somewhat improved now, no meds, and it is safe to sneeze, cough and laugh, but still I feel like an old bag of bones.

Are my axe wielding days over?
Am I really too old, as a few have suggested, to be doing this sort of thing?
Is this the beginning of back issues for me?
Will life ever the be same?
And what if...
          Whine,
                     Whine,
                                Whine,

WINE! Now there's a idea!

©2015 April Hoeller

Thursday, or Thereabouts - April 30, 2015

Spring has Sprung!
The grass is rizz.
I wonder where the wood truck is?

I heard it before I saw it, air breaks huffing and sighing as the familiar white truck rolled in from the highway. 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, stopping in the perfect spot.

Then he tips the bucket. With a might roar 3 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!

Every wondered what 384 cubic feet of firewood looks like?

It will take my love and I twenty hours or more to stack it. Ten days of fair weather at 2 hours per day - because we do have other things to do!

"Why?" I can hear you asking. Why go to all this effort every year when we could just use the gas furnace more? Fair question.

Because we've always done it? Actually in our pioneer days when we first lived here, we got full length logs which we then cut to length, split and stacked.

1985 with Sheba, the first of our furry pawed kids

We shift 5+ tons of wood every year because it's something we do together, like travelling... ?
Okay, so that might be a bit of a stretch, but we do enjoy working together on a task, as long as it doesn't involve wallpaper.


We do it because we both have a passion for making order out of chaos? There is a certain satisfaction to be found in neatly stacked firewood, a great sense of accomplishment.


(For the record: we are not heating off the avails of a forest clear cutting operation. Of this we are sure.)









We do it because we love a good fire (in it's proper place of course!) when all outside is howling with snow and cold. Seriously, one can't really cosy up to the gas furnace like one can a wood stove, hands outstretched to receive the gift of warmth.

But wait - it's Spring, not winter, and Spring has sprung.
The wood truck has come and gone.
The frost is out of the ground and the birds are singing.
And the Kentucky Derby is this weekend!

Let's get out there!

©2015 April Hoeller

Monday Moanings - May 26, 2014

Signs of Summer

It was a great weekend, though now I could use a day or three off to recover. The deck got scrubbed. The patio furniture got hauled out of the attic and put up. The first al fresco Sunday breakfast was savoured in glorious sunshine. The lawns got cut. AND my love and I stacked (and split when necessary) about a third of the winter firewood that was delivered last Tuesday. How many other people do you know who spend gorgeous summer weekends stacking firewood? I think it's our claim to fame.

Every year just as the weather begins to warm up, sometime between the last week in May and the middle of June, the big truck rolls up the street, backs into our drive and dumps three bush cords of split (a few bits not so split) firewood. It's a true sign that summer is on the doorstep.

The neighbours or anyone else who happens to drive by might have a different take. I've seen the head shaking and laughter. I've seen the jaw drops. I've seen the horror on their faces. Have no fear my friends, you are not stuck in a time warp that swallowed summer; the warm, sunny, flowery and downright sultry days are not lost; and we are not the weirdos on the street (oh well maybe that part is debatable). The way has been paved for summer's flourish - our firewood has been delivered. Give us another two weeks and it will all be stacked, ready to bask in the swelter of the dog days, ready to be seasoned for the winds of November.

Cheers!

©2014 April Hoeller