if i could chuck.

how much wood would i chuck?
a lot.
check out the pile of positively warm winter-readiness:

uh-huh.

18" logs,
and not just because of yesterday's panniecakes.
the thing is,
these hefty hunks of home-heating solution
are going to have to concentrate their british thermal unit potential
whilst hanging out in the driveway for a little minute.
uh-huh.
because my yard is a whole lot like an airedale...
brown & black, no shed.
oh, c'mon.
***********
the shovel.
yeah, that's right.
the shovel is the greatest social equalizer.
everybody gets a shovel,
and everybody does the same thing.
everybody shovels.
that's put folks on an even playing field.
it might even favor big dummies.
in fact,
the pampered and the privileged
would get a quick wake-up into the world of work.
and most surely be at a blistered, broken-backed disadvantage.
but for the hearty and the hale,
common ground gets found,
and broken, so to speak.
give me a shovel and i'm as good as the next guy,
but give me a pencil,
and i'm worth eleven.
ooooooooooooh, sh!t.
that's smart kid smack talk right there.
just sayin'.
you can get busy on a whole lot more with a pencil.
or a pen.
whatever.
mightier than swords, an' that.
and shovels.
but probably not wrenches.
just think about it a little.
*
oh,
and it's sleeting outside, now.
on my low-moisture super-seasoned wood.
that's what you get for speaking too soon, i suppose.
...which means my wood's gettin' wet.
now normally,
that's not a bad thing at all,
but today,
i can't really hang out.
tarps and tie-downs and temeritous traipsing
all to keep the damp doo-doo butter
off of my beautiful red oak logs.
hatches are gettin' battened,
skies are being cursed.
mountainous mounds of crucial combustibles,
and sleeting, sloshing suckiness from the other mountains.
really;
never quiet, never soft.....