No small exaggeration, I’m thoroughly pizzed off at “Chip” and the massive wood cutting mess he started, and inadvertently left with me to tidy up. I can’t count all the trees he fell in one of his swell swoops?
Having animal farm responsibility’s I didn’t need all the wood cutting fallen upon me. Parts of three days having to crunch time I’ve made it out there. And so far have hauled up and stacked almost a full cord staked beside the Porsche.
Tom crapped out on my yesterday noon. Handy continued on with me making himself sick by our shortened afternoon’s end. Last night I didn’t write even me a single word, falling a-sleep exhausted waaaaaay before even near my sometimes early bed time. I mean I went into a deep all night sleep. This was a short case where an early evening nap’s rest for a good nights sleep might have been appreciated. Not an all nights hibernation expedition. I be damned if I don’t want to tell “Chip” to “Pucker up!” the next time he wants MY wood cutting cooperation.
This problem arises out of “Chips” over zealous wood chopping ambitions over doing it. The idiot is winding down to back to back operations and is supposed to be on medical leave his job for healing. So what has he done? He’s over loaded his body’s ability to keep up with his supposed mental energy level. He’s worked himself into an unhealthy situation again, dragging me right along with him.
I’ll tell it like it is. One, I didn’t ask him to cut my wood. Two, I’ve cut my own firewood at my by gosh by golly pace when I had the free time fitting it in even if it were after it caught behind at a pickup load at a time need. Three, my normal rate of firewood harvesting has for the most part a windfall, windbreak, windrow, aside the fields I work the crops in and/or out of. Pure wood cutting enjoyment for me is when I WANT to make a clearing project a lane long established or brand new. Four, I’ve never gone in for this wholesale projecting more than I could seasonably handle.
Without Handy’s help today and wondering how much help Tom will ever be for ever more I may be alone cleaning up the mess. And it needs cleaning up. This involves a Spring hayfield and a Summer pasture. Even if I just immediately haul in and stack my Winters need there’ll still be fallen trees to cut up and haul away, plus all the brush to contend with. This isn’t even considering the trees still fallen that presently are just out of my ways. And those logs must be dealt with before that useful firewood is lost.
Son of a bitch!?. I’ve just damned near written a whole ranted essay out of my “Kiss my azz mood.” I crumb-a. This is an episode I shan’t easily forget.