The Pooka Life
I am sore all over today. Lets just say I'd never make it as a lumberjack.
Last winter we tried to buy wood for fires and were laughed at over the phone. Apparently, one must purchase wood during the summer months to allow it to dry. Who knew? So we vowed not to be taken unaware and order 1/2 a cord of wood last weekend. Having not idea what a cord is, I wanted to order a full one but Kevin talked me down to just 1/2 a cord.
So Saturday morning at the ungodly hour of 10am, I met the wood guy and his son out front. (Kevin had to work Sat so I was on my own). They backed into the driveway and proceeded to unload a *huge* mount of wood. I realized rather quickly that -it hurts to say this- Kevin was right. 1/2 a cord is plenty. Daunted by the sight of all that wood, I did the only logical thing and went back to bed. Unfortunately, the wood pile looked as big as before at 2 in the afternoon so I did the next logical thing and dropped the blinds. Out of sight, out of mind, right?
When Kev got back we headed out to the pile and set to work. We had our awl, sledgehammer, ax and wedge. All we were lacking was the muscle and coordination. It was pathetic. Our neightbors actually gathered at their window to watch and laugh at us. The worse part was Kevin's awful puns. "Give it your awl", "you're awl most done", "one more hit and it's awl over". Try swinging a sledge hammer and laughing at the same time.
So we've split 10 logs. I feel like someone took a sledgehammer to me. Only 120 more to go. I figure by the time we want to light a fire, we should be done. If only I could find someone who'd deliver a cord of Duraflame I'd be set.