Unloading the log truck

Unloading the log truck

Guess what I did outdoors today? 

Stood around for a half hour and watched a log truck delivery of next year’s wood.  My husband inquired, “THIS is your outdoor adventure?”

Answer:  Yes.

For many years Barry has scrounged in the woods, cutting and chainsawing and skidding out logs.  This year we’ve chosen the “easy” route.  We’ve paid for the delivery of wood. 

The one hundred inch long logs now need to be chainsawed to appropriate length and eventually split.  We’re pondering buying or making a splitter.  (I will not be making the splitter.)

As we watched the deft operator handling and stacking the logs, I felt somewhat melancholy.  An elderly neighbor’s funeral was this morning.  She was a woman who loved the woods, spending hours exploring the thickets and ridges.  We met twenty seven years ago when she served coffee and goodies to a young mother with a brand new baby boy.  She shared hundreds of stories about this area before paved roads existed.  She worked at a logging camp.  I truly admired her humor, her wit, her fortitude.  It was sad to say goodbye today, although it’s been many years since she recognized friends and family.

Snow, rain and freezing rain fell today.  A foggy mist rose from the snowbanks at times.  I’m feeling simultaneously happy about our new load of logs, and sad for the loss of an old friend.

Heat for next winter

Heat for next winter

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