the tale of a wood pile and an ice storm
around here in, south central Kentucky, winter brings with it mostly rain, plenty of ice, and rarely snow. for the past days as this storm system has moved across our region, our friends north of us pulled out their sleds, and we awoke to this
ice storms can be beautiful for certain, but i have to admit, it leaves both paul and i longing for the deep blanket of snow that we recall from our childhoods.
we heat with wood. we love wood heat, at its best, the warmth of wood heat can’t be beat, but there is a lot of work involved. felling, cutting, splitting and stacking is a chore. over the years, as our workload evolved on the homestead, it was paul who became the woodsman.
for those of you that know my eldest son, you can remember clearly the days when he swung a hatchet as big as he: wobbly toddler legs and bare feet. you might not have known then that what that guy would be doing at 14. in the most recent winters our favorite adolescent has been joining in the process of heating with wood. originally focused on a wood supply for our winter maple syruping.
hauling downed trees from the woodland with his trusty donkey, waiting patiently for dad to come and saw them to length, then waiting patiently again for dad to drive them to the wood pile where he could split and stack.
the waiting game was no fun for this energetic fella so at the end of last winter, we made an arrangement. dad would teach his oldest son the workings of the chainsaw and the four wheeler: the basic tools he would need to manage the wood supply solo. passing the reins wasn’t smooth at first, but with the bone chilling cold that can accompany this damp world the time has come for me to claim: i can’t believe how warm i am. father and son are working together, they’ve ironed out some kinks and i have shed a layer or two.
isn’t that a beautiful thing?