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beer and firewood

Harvey and I picked up some wood from the town forest this morning, to keep our fire habit going. A big white pine fell across one of the paths a couple months ago, and someone kindly cut it up to clear the way. Because it was so thick, the anonymous caretaker had to saw it into 12- to 18-inch segments, so they could be moved—just the thing for a pair of firewood hunters without a chainsaw. I'd had my eye on them ever since the tree came down, in case we ever had a need for firewood; well, now we do. The cargo bike carried five of them nicely, plus an assortment of smaller stuff. Then the only problem was splitting them. We have an axe, but that doesn't work so well with logs as big as these (it's not so sharp either). So while the boys were playing at a friend's house I picked up a splitting wedge from the hardware store.

Since the liquor store is just a couple doors down, I also got some beer—because what goes better together than dangerous sharp tools and intoxicants?! I have to say that in my cold-weather anarchist/hobo outfit of boots, carharts, and fleece coat over hooded sweatshirt I felt very manly as I purchased my wedge and my mallet and my Cambridge-brewed beer. Then I went home and split all the logs in the cold drizzle. It was very satisfying.

We're pretty busy around here, and not only with making fires (though mostly that). I also broke my camera somehow, so that kind of puts a damper on my blogging, the way I've been doing it the last couple years. But we go on somehow.

We love showing off the fireplace, and now there's lots of wood to burn. You totally should come over and check it out!

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