Burdenofglory’s Weblog

Happy birthday, Marcus.  We’re to the point we’ve known each other over half our lives.  They say old couples start looking alike.  Will my legs get longer?  Will you grow lots of bushy hair?  Probably not.  But I’m sticking around just to make sure.

I love ya’ awful, honey.

Marcus decided to go on one more wood-cutting expedition last Saturday.  I needed to spend the morning setting up  accounts for our homeschool co-op on Quickbooks, so that was fine.  When Marcus called around lunchtime, asking me about hauling wood in the afternoon, I mumbled, “Sure,” although my mind was elsewhere.

At 2:30, Marcus came home and ordered the troops out to haul wood.  I was done working on the computer, I wanted to help, and it was a nice day.  We drove to the field, and loaded the first trailer full.  When we returned with our first load, someone needed to pick up Maddie in town, and Ashley promptly, and a little too eagerly volunteered.  Marcus and I tried to encourage the remaining wood-haulers, telling them how much they would enjoy our wood next winter.  We even let everyone drink Mountain Dew.  Katherine commented that she freezes in her room, and the rest of us enjoy the fire upstairs during school.  Hmmm.  Now that’s not a very good attitude, is it Katherine?  Rebecca drug her feet more and more slowly as we went back for the 2nd, 3rd, and 4th loads.

Marcus and I had lost the kids, and went back for the 5th load about 5:30.

I was done.

I eeked out supper, but just barely.  I really thought I’d be spending spring break in bed, recuperating from wood hauling.

Marcus and I figured 12 trailer loads filled up our wood rack 3 rows deep, with a little extra.  Maybe we should space those loads out a bit more next year.  Or I may need to work on my attitude, and Marcus will have to lay my expired, wood-hauling carcass next to the blazing  fireplace.

I love our fireplace.  All winter long I sit on the limestone hearth, sizzling one side of my body, then turning to roast the other half.  If the kids want help in school, I tell them to step into my office.  Sometimes they complain it is too hot, and they want to sit on the couch.  Too bad, I say.

I keep the house rather chilly, and some of my short-sleeved, no-sock-wearing offspring whine about it being too cold.  “Put on some socks and a long sleeve shirt, and sit by the fire,” is my refrain.  The fire cures all ills.  Pimple?  Sit by the fire.  Sad?  Sit by the fire.  Nausea?  Well, the fire actually makes you feel a bit worse.

However, the fire is not exactly “free” heat.  Was it Henry Ford who said wood makes you warm twice?  Once when you cut it, and again when you burn it.  I hate to nitpick, but it actually makes you warm three times, if you count loading it.

My hyper husband has been out in a farmer’s field cutting wood the last couple weekends, and this week it was time to bring it on home and stack it.  I missed the first installment, since I had a board meeting.  Get it?  Board meeting.  Or was it a bored meeting?  Anyway, youth group was canceled tonight, so we headed out to the field.

Rebecca fiddled a bit, but for the most part, I was impressed.  My dad always tells me to teach the girls to work, and they’ll never starve.  They definitely have wood-hauling down.

I was chastised for taking pictures instead of working, but how could I resist?

We only managed three loads before it got dark, but that was OK with most of us.

Hyper husband said one more day of cutting, and a few more nights of loading should give us enough wood for next winter.  He also said we could start a new wood stack behind his garage, if I wanted.  I’ll have to think about that.