No one lives in the country without a chain saw… except city kids who have been putting off spending money on one. We have had a chain saw before… several times. Like when we lived on the Gulf Coast, and we had a hurricane, and lots of trees were down, and the very muscular men who chopped up our downed-tree just chop, chop, chopped it like butter. The men made it look so easy, I said, ” We gotta get us a chain saw… because who lives on the Gulf Coast (where there are frequent storms) without a chain saw?” We never got to use it because we moved.
I think we sold it.
In our next city, far from the coast, there was a huge ice storm. I mean HUGE. Trees were snapping all around us. People were without power for days. It got so cold you could see your breath INSIDE our house. A very large tree limb smashed our deck. A very large tree fell in our yard. Large limbs were resting precariously against our house. The sound of chain-sawing could be heard all around the neighborhood, so I said, ” We gotta get us a chain saw… because who lives through an ice storm clean-up without a chain saw?” We bought a chain saw. When we cut the limb which was resting precariously against our house, the very large oak appendage ended up smashing like a torpedo INTO our house. Physics. You know that subject which deals with matter, energy, motion, and force? We should have paid more attention in college.
After that, the chain saw rusted and rotted in the basement.
Fast forward… we live in the country. We heat our house with a super-cool, fancy, wood-burning central heating system. My husband actually enjoys loading it several times a day. We have the NICEST wood man in the county. He promptly delivers whenever we call. However, our wood pile frequently looks forlorn and bare at times because city kids don’t like to think about wood. It’s not in our DNA. Where we come from, wood-burning fireplaces are for Thanksgiving, Christmas, and, sometimes, when company comes over and we want to look all hearth-y.
But… in the country… wood means our house is warm.
The daffodils are blooming here at HC Farm. This has been an excessively cold winter, and I am holding out for spring. The other day, I said, “We gotta get us a chain saw… because for the price of several truck-loads of wood, we could cut-up about ten downed-trees right on the edge of our 19 Acre Wood. We will pay for the chain saw in no time!”
Chain-sawing is backbreaking work. Hauling chopped wood up a steep mountain hill is hard labor. But, we did it, and no one chopped off their leg. When we piled up the fruits of our sawing… we figured we are worth about ten dollars an hour ( in Wood Pile Land). Depressing. We are gonna have to make a lot more trips down to those trees before we can pay for this new chain saw.
Hard work is… hard.
And so is raking leaves (When we rake leaves, both my husband and myself morph into 10 year-old grade schoolers. We whine and complain and get grumpy like you would not believe.) and preparing a garden (Easy to dream about all winter and draw up plans and look through seed catalogs…hard to accomplish) and digging up the front sidewalk (I did this today, and I lasted 2.5 hours, and it is still not done).
I’m really missing those three sons (who grew up and flew out of the nest) about now. It is so awesome when your boy turns 12. He is all-about physical labor, and ten dollars will get the job done. We had some really good years with really good help. But, the day comes when you look at each other and say,
“Well, it’s just you and me again.”
Empty nest problems.