Musings

Feral Woodworking, a/k/a “Firewood Season”

As we settle into the routine of life on the homestead it becomes ever more clear that it is always “firewood season.”  We made it through the winter with a large amount left in the re-filled crib, having gone through the complete supply in the side crib and the front porch, refilling the former two months ago in case it was needed.  It was not.

But still there are at least a half dozen large trees on the ground up in the woods, trees we felled last summer and simply awaiting my further ministrations.  Now on nice days, and by that I mean “dry” days with good enough traction to get the truck up the mountain, I section and split a ton or two of firewood.  I discovered a useful implement for the task, a ramp.  I found that rolling the bolts of wood into the truck was dramatically preferable to hoisting them.

D’oh.

I enjoy reflecting on the fact that my goal of having two years’ worth of firewood ready to go at the beginning of winter might be fulfilled by autumn of this year.  Plus, I am noting that late winter is the time to forage for firewood as the naturally fallen trees are so readily visible, as are ailing trees to be harvested this summer.  I look forward to growing the pile to the size of a truck in the coming days.

Now, it only I could persuade Mrs. Barn of the need for a John Deere Gator or something similar.  For the firewood.  For the children.