Firewood Patrol and Hydrangeas

Because the wife has myeloma and has been very ill, I get to do all the grunt work around here. Despite the bilateral osteoarthritis I can still do a lot thanks to the osteopath {a.k.a. Torquemada}.

This afternoon the wife pruned the ginormous hydrangeas into a trailer which is usually pulled by the sit on mower. These hydrangeas are at the top of the slope. I am ok making a few trips with the little {4-5 wheelbarrows} trailer.  She filled three. My legs feel like I have been doing weight dips with a human being on my shoulders. The big trailer, the Sisyphus wagon, is near full.

Not bad work for a couple of old crips.

I have sawn up the planks from the palette for kindling. There looks to be about 100 litres in volume. I have sawed up the little wood pile and stacked these logs in the central tin shed. I have nice muscle burn across my back. I have started eyeing up where to harvest firewood. If one cuts the lengths shorter it dries faster. The tin shed gets scorchio in summer.

When I was a younger man my grandma, my nan, used to like looking at and touching my hands. You don’t get callouses from aligning laser optics. Her husband, her father and all her brothers had miners’ hands. The sort you get from long hours with the pick and the shovel. My grandfather had worked 24 inch seams of coal. Not often but on occasion. He was a Bevan boy…

My hands are not as soft and genteel anymore…

My familiar, the stray cat a.k.a. Felix, is sitting just outside the window less than a metre away and he looks at me from time to time. When we close the volets, the shutters, we had better do a cat check. We managed to kill a hedgehog last year.

He is copying Bowie…just like he did with Trip Hazard. One day he might not be so shy and scaredy cat…

Life is pretty strange, intellectual property office, patents, cats and firewood…

You can’t make this shit up…

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