22 Jan 08 The Pursuit of Firewood

I’m not sure if it was because he was a product of the northwest or if it was just true of his generation, but my dad has ever been incapable of passing up the pursuit of firewood.

Each and every time I see a pile of wood in a yard or on the side of the road, without or without a FREE WOOD sign, I think something like:  "I wonder if my dad knows about this pile of wood?"

I think he could be one his way for any rather important event (catch a plane, hospital, funeral, etc.) and be tempted to stop along the way if he saw a pile of unclaimed firewood.

I remember many a trip into the woods for the pursuit of firewood, many a stacking session back at the house.

Armed with that background and formative experience it seemed only right to make taking out the tree in our backyard a family event.

We sawed, chopped, pulled, dragged, ran sorted and stacked for two and 1/2 days.  We’ve got cuts, scrapes, nicks and bruises as mementos of our battle against the tree.

Piled neatly along the back fence of our back 40 is a cord of firewood that should be ready to burn by next winter.

I wonder if my my dad knows about this pile of wood?