It's amost 8pm. I get up at 4:30 am so I can go fishing. I'm knackered.
I'll tell you the Tommy and Chet story tomorrow.
Bat: Hey, I got up at 4:30 AM yesterday also to cut firewood. I have a lot of green wood but no seasoned, so I'm getting dead trees enough to burn while waiting for the green to dry. Lots tougher to find and get out.
I was dragging skinny (10 inch) dead white birch 40 ft. long with chain up a narrow one foot slot through the thick woods, trees about 130 ft. in. It reminded me of playing a fish on a line, with the tractor bucket as the pole. The tractor was on the edge of the field. The logs were turning and flopping around the trees as I "reeled" them in by backing up. I enjoyed it. The felling part was harder, the woods being very thick.
As I cut up the birch I thought of smurph
, making a guitar from trees he cut, and tried to visualize guitar parts in that rosy tan beautiful heartwood. Guess I'm not like Michelangelo, I couldn't see anything in there but firewood, which I'm burning right now. We have a lot of cold coming right away.
No pressure on the story, only if you feel like it. Tommy is teaching some younger men to play guitar his way, they came around this summer and played.
Beautiful purple pink sky right now, sailors take warning!
edit: I cut in the afternoon, to get ready I had to hand split and stack a lot of green wood here to get ready to receive the dead wood in the front of the pile, to burn first.