Anyone
who has dropped a massive dead oak tree, removed the branches, sawed
the limbs and trunk into firewood lengths, cleaned up the debris, and
then loaded the wood into a trailer, and hauled it 35 miles, knows just
how much work that really is. And yet, that's what friends did for me.
It's no secret to those who know me that 45 years of construction has
left me with some shoulders that are a little aggravated. Shoulders
that too often were used in place of a backhoe, and
knees that had many times the proper weight put upon them year after
year. The daily pain is a constant reminder of how I should've bought or
rented more equipment earlier in my life. Everyone who has spent his
life in the construction trade knows the feeling all too well. I'm no
invalid for sure, but I have a couple of more minor surgeries left
ahead of me I'm afraid.
So... to have a surprise trailer load of -ready to go in the fireplace
and shop wood stove- firewood delivered to my wood shed is, well,
amazing. One fella knew what I needed, and the rest pitched in. The tree
needed to come down, sure, but perfectly cut and loaded on a trailer
and delivered to my house? My goodness.
And if I tried to pay 'em? Well, my shoulder injuries would seem small compared to what I'd get from them. Friends.
Tracy Lawrence had a country hit called "You find out who your friends are." These fellows wish to remain anonymous because that's how they roll, but they know who they are. AND they also know that there is an open invitation to share a cup of coffee or hot chocolate in front of a crackling fire on any cold winters eve.
Tracy Lawrence had a country hit called "You find out who your friends are." These fellows wish to remain anonymous because that's how they roll, but they know who they are. AND they also know that there is an open invitation to share a cup of coffee or hot chocolate in front of a crackling fire on any cold winters eve.
There's nothin to warm a
mans heart more than watchin the orange flames perform a spirit dance
up the logs of a fireplace fire. I love watching the embers rising like
glowing fairies in a dizzy ghostly ascension up the chimney. On a night
when Ole Man Winter is making his presence known with a soulful howling
wind, and the window sill is piled high with blowing snow, there's a
peace from the flickering light on the hearth that wraps you like a old
wool blanket. I love my fireplace.
Thoreau said " A man who heats
with wood is twice warmed". The cutting, splitting, and stacking of the
wood warms you as well as the heat of the glowing fire. I haven't had
to cut this wood, and there is very little splitting to do. But, with my
hands wrapped around my coffee cup, twice warmed I'll be. While I am
hypnotized by the flames, I'll feel the warmth of burning oak... and the
appreciation for a group of guys I'm fortunate to call friends.
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