Getting control of the Firewood Supply ~ November 2, 1995

David Heiller

We’ve had a lot of wet weather lately, which has me worried about our Firewood Supply.

Firewood Supply is capitalized because it is a serious subject when you heat with wood.

Most people have their Firewood Supply under control at this point in the year. In fact the true old timer is working on his Firewood Supply for next year, or even 1997, right about now. Maybe someday I’ll be at that point. But things always seem to get in the way, like football games and gardening and an emergency or two.

"Argg"!

So I’m crossing my fingers that we’ll get a cold snap and the rain will cease and the ground will harden and everything will work out fine, like it always does.

In preparation for those perfect conditions, I spent part of Saturday and Sunday in the woods wearing knee-high rubber boots, cutting and splitting several cords of basswood, maple, and red oak.

Two companions helped the time go faster.

On Saturday I worked with the company of our Australian shepherd, Mackenzie. She is a faithful dog. She and our other dog, Ida, walked out with me. Ida split for home after a few minutes, but Mac sat down about 30 feet away and for four hours watched me work.

Kenzie patiently waits,
always alert to any change of plans.

When I would stop for a break and shut off the saw, I would call her over and she would gratefully come, her whole hind end wagging, and we would talk and hug for a few seconds. It’s a good feeling, having a loyal dog like that. It puts a bright spot on what is often a cold and dreary job.

So does working with your son. I asked Noah to help me on Sunday. He came reluctantly. He would rather have spent his time strutting around the yard wearing his football shoulder pads and flexing his muscles and pretending he was John Randle.

His job was to stand the stove-length logs upright, and to split them if he could. If he couldn’t, then at least the logs would be ready for me to split. That saves some bending for me. His 12-year-old back has a few more bends in it than mine. If there is one job that will give you a stiff back, it is splitting wood.

Noah had trouble splitting the green maple. The axe got tangled in the underbrush more than once, and I heard him grumble about it. He is discovering that underbrush is the mortal enemy of making firewood. It nicks your cheeks, catches your saw, steals your hat, and trips your feet.

Dad's worthy assistant.

He did better splitting the oak. When he got tired of standing the wood upright and splitting, he did some tossing.

Tossing a piece of wood gives you a good feeling, especially when you are frustrated with the underbrush. You give a grunt and toss that hunk with an “Aargh!” and you feel better. Don’t ask me why.

At first Noah worked quietly, and when he is quiet, he is not happy. I watched his frustration with trying to split some tough logs. But as the jobs progressed, as he split and tossed and stacked and patiently fought the underbrush, his attitude changed.

He started to feel his body work, his back, his forearms, his triceps and biceps and all those other muscles that he knows by name.

You get a workout making firewood. It’s a hard job. But once you get into the rhythm of the job, you start to feel pretty good.

Then he started talking about the Vikings, and about how this work was helping his muscles and I knew he was doing fine. He talked and I listened. Once in a while I would say “Yeah?” or “Right!” and that was all I needed to say.

He’s going to help me again next Saturday. Mackenzie will too. Then we’ll get the Firewood Supply under control, if the good Lord’s willing and the creek don’t rise.