Wood Wallah

I started at eight am, yesterday. Thank God it was a sunny day.

I put roughly twenty pieces of wood into each wheelbarrow load; I bend over to pick up piece. I wheel each load to the woodshed where I pick each piece up again and bend over to place it carefully, and securely, in the stack. After three hours work, the second (depositing) bends are easier on my back as the stack of wood slowly rises.

After each load I returned to the huge pile of wood in my driveway—and it was just two cords, a third of what I’ve ordered. I despaired often at the amount of work required to move the mountain; I endured by thinking about the spa at the end of the day. As I amassed each new load, I thought of each one as a few days of cozy heat next winter.

By 1:00, I’d hauled the lounge chair out by the woodpile so I could rest. By then I was tiring after two or three wheelbarrow loads. 

I lasted until 3:30; by then half the mountain was gone.

This morning, I’ve watered all my gardens thoroughly and filled all the bird feeders. I’ve gone on the dog walk and now I face stacking the second cord of wood. It’s going to kill me. The next two cords come early next week and two more come at the end of the week because nothing but sunshine and heat for the foreseeable future is predicted.

Although the work exhausts me, it’s good for my physical wellbeing and for my spirits. I’m proud I’m willing and able to do it. I’ve learned how to live here and love this life—and this eternal sunshine.

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It’s Towhees! They eat with their feet. They kick up the soil and Fir needles looing for insects; it’s them that are clearing my eves as they kick up the accumulated forest detritus. I watched them this morning.

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I think the Ivy I’m trying to root may make it, and I’m beyond chuffed. I want to plant it on my shed, not the house. I worry about it being a Rodent ladder.

Morning Wood

A big job starts today. I’m getting two cords of wood, two more next week and two more the week after that. I can’t stack six cords of wood in one go; it’s the biggest physical challenge of my year—and before I stack the new wood, I have to move the balance of last year’s wood so the driest wood is most accessible for the balance of my fires this season. 

All I’ll do all day is stack; today I’m a wood wallah. I haven’t started yet and I hurt already from just thinking about it. One good thing though: It’s predicted to reach only 15° today, whereas tomorrow and all the days of next week are going to be in the twenties, so I won’t be sweating like a racehorse all day.

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Having created the Garden of Stolen Stones, I’m thinking of creating a Garden of Lifted Loam. I’m going to steal some soil from the lot next door so that I can create a wildflower meadow in part of my backyard. It’s a project for tomorrow or the weekend, after all the wood is stacked.

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Yesterday, I had a lovely morning weaving (anti-Deer) screening into the fence where it was required. I had to order a bit more screen so I can protect everything. The buds on the Grape vines are about to burst into leaves and will need protection.

I marvel as each new type of vegetable or herb emerges from the soil. I have no confidence in myself as a gardener, but these resilient little buggers are tough. My Nasturtiums emerged yesterday and I was ecstatic. They will flower under the teepee of Bamboo on which the Beans and Peas grow and in my hanging baskets. 

I also planted more salad sees, more Spinach and some Romaine.

Endless Sunshine

There is no end in sight to our sunshine. I’m thrilled to be working outdoors in such fine weather. It was 22° yesterday afternoon.

I spent all day yesterday working on the yard. (I will likely be writing that sentence every day I’m without houseguests until October.)  I raked and burned the last of the forest fallings from Saturday’s windstorm all morning; during the afternoon, I wove screen into parts of the fence surrounding my vegetable garden so the Deer can’t eat my vines and berry bushes. Plus, I finally planted my beans and peas. Hooray!

I also had a really lovely spa (in pristine water) and an afternoon nap in the sunshine. I have no trouble at all passing my days peaceably here.

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On May 12th, I go to the city for a memorial for my friend Cathy. I’m curious about how that’s going to go because, I feel completely “normal” here now—“here” being the important word. I feel safe anywhere and with anyone on this island so my symptoms have completely abated.

I know I’m not cured. But if I stay here, I’m as good as cured. It’s when I leave home and the island that my symptoms return. The last time I went into the city, it was brutal. I was mute the whole time except when I was with trusted friends. Perhaps that will happen again May 12th. I don’t know. Maybe it won’t.

The thing is, I’m speaking at the memorial. I’ve written out what I plan to say and I’ll use my Rand voice if I have to.

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The Arts Council board of directors is going on a retreat to refocus and re-consider their operations. I feel I’ve contributed to their insights into their activities through small papers I have written about aspects of their operations. I’m very proud of a line that resonated with them: “You are either over-producing or marketing insufficiently/poorly.” 

They said they have both problems at our meeting this past Monday, so I’m drafting an essay for them on how their communications could be improved.

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Today I do more planting: Romain Lettuce and Dutch Corn Salad, plus some bulbs to bring colour and bees to the garden. The berries will be the last to go in and then I become the garden dhobi wallah until the rains return in Fall.