pioneer children
Dad took us wood-collecting this morning. There were supposed to be cut logs for the taking by the ski hill, and so we hitched up the trailer and headed up, complaining all the way. The place was more or less cleaned out--the only remaining logs were uncut and unmoveable, not that this stopped us. With a great deal of complaining and perhaps a little cussing, we managed to get these ex-trees into the trailer. One of these days, we will chop them up with ax and chainsaw to a size more appropriate for a wood stove. We probably got at least a cord of wood. I have R.C. building a fire right now--we deserve it.
3 Comments:
You are far too cool for words Suz! Thanks for writing and making us feel in touch.
Your job sounds so mysterious- like you should be wearing black sun glasses and have cobra tattooed on your knuckles (see Lilo and Stitch. :))
Loads of love,
Dorothy
Reid-o:
Today is Sunday. I drew a beautiful tree with all my family on it. Aubrey fell down the stairs this morning and has a big bruise.
Ah, being at home...fond memories of pouring the cistern and cutting down Christmas trees are coming to mind. But look at it this way--there's a fireplace to burn the wood, and a yard to chop it up in. (You know our little squinty house has a very little, squinty yard--i miss the yard at home. I even miss the sideyard:)
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