It’s been a little bit frenzied, this morning, as I had to make sure the access to the woodsheds was clear, that the woodsheds themselves were clear, and that all was ready for the dumpster truck to lift and deposit the load of hardwood within easy grasping distance for stacking.
It took an hour and a half, or thereabouts (I had a breathing break two-thirds of the way through, before I exhausted myself) to get the pieces neatly stacked in two sheds.
Very strange indeed, I felt, to do some hard physical labour, and not to feel any ham-string pulling, just a bit of cardiovascular taxation, the good old huff and puff of effort. I did gasp a bit, but for whatever reason it seems easier when there’s a goal. I did want to get the wood safely inside before the promised torrential rain hit. As it turned out, not much more than gusty breezes and a few spits and spots, really.
So now the wood is stacked, lunch is upon us, and we can relax a bit. Should the heating oil run out, we’re covered. Power failure? We’re covered.
We will be warm.
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