I Hate Stacking Wood!

Yesterday started magnificently!

Eoin had proposed we have a walk together with our dogs. He led us on a route I’d never taken before and it was a wonder. He showed me where Chanterelle mushrooms grow and took me to the local marsh that I’d long wanted to see, and we saw snakes sunbathing. It was just a terrific walk. And it was nice to have his (distant) company; he’s such a fine man.

The day began looking dreadful but it turned into a beauty just as we began our walk. When I got home there was barely a cloud in the sky.

I put on clean dry clothes when I got home because I was sweating so much from walking, rested a bit (with cookies) and then headed out to tote and stack more wood. I set no goals; I did not want to overdo things. Wednesday night, after sixteen wheelbarrows full I was exhausted, and my body ached.

But I got ten loads done before going for our second walk, this time with Anna and Minjou. And I just couldn’t face more wood toting when I got home. My speech had totally gone; I was back at square one very suddenly and I got very depressed about it. I blamed the hysteria about the virus.

But I was wrong, I reckon, because it is back and fine this morning, so I’m wondering if it was simply exhaustion from all the wood stacking after so long a walk.

By six o’clock my body wasn’t hurting so much, and I realize as I do more and more of this work, it’s going to get easier and easier. At least I hope it is! I’ll find out today. I expect to get back to it and work as long as the rain holds off.

Tonight: Two shows. One Man, Two Guvnors on YouTube and Best Worst Thing That Ever Could Have Happened on Netflix.

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The local hardware store had a sale on suet: One dollar per bar, and so I got twenty of them. And now, my most regular visitor is a Downy Woodpecker. He is so cute and unafraid of me. I love seeing him every day.

Stacking

I walked Her Highness early yesterday morning in the rain. Then I came home and moved enough of last year’s wood to an accessible place so that I can use it for the balance of this year’s fireplace season. The rest of last season’s wood will be buried behind the new wood I load into the woodshed. Thankfully the woodshed has a roof, so I could keep dry as I worked. 

Then I prepared for the arrival of the new wood, hoping the rain would abate during the time of its delivery. And miracles happen: It arrived in a dry spell and I quickly got it covered. It’s soul destroying to see how much wood just two cords are when you know you have six cords to move and stack. 

However, Mr. Couch Potato rose rise to the occasion: At one o’clock the sky cleared and so I had myself a big bowl of ice cream and then started stacking. I got eight wheelbarrows full into the shed—I filled them up, wheeled them to the shed and then unloaded them. Then I went to meet Anna to walk our dogs. When I got back, I did eight more and then I could no longer resist the calm, quiet and warmth of the spa. 

Oh, it felt good to relax in the warm water. Then it was couch, dinner and TV.

Today has dawned cold and damp. It isn’t raining but the weather is uninspiring. I’m going to meet François and Eoin and their two Whippets for a distanced trail walk, and when I come home, I may do some stacking, or I may not.

I’m reading an excellent book: The Alchemist by Paulo Cuello. It’s a fable about an Andalusian shepherd and I love it. And I want to bake a cake because an essential of quarantine is having something sweet to eat. And if the rain holds off, I’ll try to do a few wheelbarrows full of wood. But I can also wait until the weekend; it’s supposed to be sunny on Sunday and I much prefer doing labour in sunshine.

Hope!

I watched the “pandemic” documentaries on Netlfix and was blown away by this doctor and what he is doing in his lab. Both he and his chief research assistant are mind-bogglingly clever, and their strict protocols are beyond impressive to watch. This fellow is no opportunist; neither is he a man who would risk the reputation of his lab by making false statements, so his news gives me hope. His lab has earned a lot of support including a HUGE grant from the Gates Foundation. He has a lot to lose by making a mistake. Here is a link to Distributed Bio’s website. VISIT IT and give yourself some great news!

Bad Weather; Bad News

Well … here goes: My first two cords of wood arrive today, and the weather is not cooperating. Today, at this point (7:30 am) looks as though we’re doomed to a classic wet, cool and grey day. It's raining right now. However, the next two days should be completely dry so I hope to get all the wood stacked and tomorrow and Friday and then have the weekend to recover before the next two cords arrive.

My spirit has accepted this inevitability; six days of hard about yield a Fall/Winter/Spring of cozy fires so I’m heading into this hard work (after two seasons of lethargy) optimistically. As for my body: Well, I’ll see what happens. If my hands and elbow hurt too much, I’ll try to hire someone to help me.  

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I’ve accepted that crisis restrictions will likely last until summer—and then there’s the threat of a “second wave” in the Fall. That’s what I heard on the news last night. The thought of not being with friends for so long, of living alone, is not pleasant to contemplate.

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On my walk yesterday, my thoughts were pleasantly interrupted by a sweet, delicious sent that made me pay attention and seek out its source. It was a bush of Ocean Spray in full bloom; my huge bush of it is just beginning to show signs of tiny leaves. Ocean Spray is a plant I’d never heard of until I moved here. Its scent is as sweet as Jasmine. 

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I finished All the Light We Cannot See. I oved is despite some of its conceptual flaws. I did nothing but read yesterday to get it finished so that I could focus on wood stacking today. Next up is Where the Crawdads Sing.

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I have an idea for a book to write but I’m not certain I have the energy and drive to do it. Income, however, is a beguiling temptress. Why People Buy Art: That’s my working title and I have enough opinions and done enough research in my past to do it. But will I? I don’t know. But if I were to do it, and if it was as successful as Artist Survival Skills, I could live here forever without financial concerns.

Opus, the artists’ supply store that sold four thousand copies of Artist Survival Skills, is doing poorly and my book was its highest-earning SKU (item) ever, so I think they’d be keen to provide the same services as they did last time. This book, however, would be shorter and cheaper.