stacked up and stored away.

duders,
it's done.
six cords of woodsly goodness,
put up, airing out, and waiting it's turn to burn.
uh-huh.
check the teleport:

c'mon.
that's that 'schuan jauns, ninjas.
log after log after log after log,
piled high, separated into species and sh!t,
and arranged according to seasonal needs.
huh?
F*ing right.
obsessive compulsions and deductive reasoning
give strong purpose to the intricacies of my actions.
just sayin',
birch burns hot and short, oak stays warmer longer.
i maximize the british thermal unit output of my combustibles
by making sure i use the right fuel every time.
when i need short sweet nighttime fires in the fall?
yuuuup,
i straight-up yellow and white birch bomb that sh!t.
what about frigid furious february's bleak bitter barren brutality?
no jokes-
100% hard oaks, neighbors;
and then all the maple and beech an' other other barked-up bits
that throw heat and generate the acrid ash and ghostly smoke spouts
for all the other other chilly evenings and in-between times.
you wanna get hot, you gotta get ready.
that's real.
is it an apesh!t bananas overkill activation situation i'm repping?
maybe.
but it's also totally expert.
i have a system, son.
(you should see how i eat panniecakes)
on the ones, kids,
i do work when work needs doing.
that's just the way it is.
*
cleaning up after myself,
tying up loose ends,
stacking solutions,
splintering, shivering, and getting slivers from my timbers.
it's a process, y'all.
and it's happening right now;
never quiet, never soft.....7x33+1