Life, crafty stuff, long walks, thoughts, and little oddities.

Wheelbarrows and wood


It’s said that wood warms you twice through – once when you cut and stack it, once when you burn it. Well, the logs come ready chopped. But the lorry dumps its load of wood outside the entrance on the pavement. No way of the truck getting round the back to the wood-store. Thermals on, and wheelbarrow at the ready, we begin the process of shifting it all. The first barrow full is loaded. Transported through the alleyway and round the back. There, ready to stack log on log, my dad stands in the wood shed. Tip the wheelbarrow up. Deposit the load. Start the process again. Accompanied by my mum and her ‘vehicle reversing’ sound, and me, pretending to be a dumper truck, the time passes swiftly. An occasional pause to greet passersby. 17 barrowloads. Several armfuls. A bag full of sweepings for kindling. Firewood supply topped up, ready for the cold snap. We finish just as the first flakes of snow appear, whirling down from the sky. Inside to hot chocolate and comfortable chairs. And tonight, a blazing fire in the hearth.



Author: iggandfriends

Taking time out to ponder life and everything else. This is the space where I press the pause button on my busy life to reconnect with God, to re-energize, and focus on my creativity. Time out to blow bubbles, walk on the beach, write some stuff, do some needlework, and generally enjoy life once again. You can view my main blog at www.iggandfriends.wordpress.com. I also have another blog at www,faithinthehome.wordpress.com, and a arty/crafty one at http://52weeksofcreations.wordpress.com/. I hope you enjoy visiting :)

4 thoughts on “Wheelbarrows and wood

  1. Your Mum puts a smile on my face today, Igga&…,
    my own is visiting soon, and flying for the first time!

  2. The wood grows faster up your way. I estimate the chunks are between 25-30 years old. Where I am from they’d need to be 30-40 years old to be that big. What kind of wood I wonder? Where I am we burn black spruce and balsam fir a lot. It has such a nice smell! Most, though, prefer birch; it packs about twice the ‘heat whallop’ into every chunk. Lacks the lovely small of the fir, though. The old-timers don’t say ‘fir.’ To them it’s ‘var.’

    • My dad informs me that we have a mixture of wood – some spruce, some birch, some pine and some unidentified. Apparently it’s mostly seasoned hardwood. From a local guy who owns his own patch of sustainable woodland, so most of it is from clearing and coppicing. It’s quite a gentle climate here on the Machars – we’re on the edge of the Gulf Stream.

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