The shade of the maple

There is certainly enough to do. The young people are here helping, and the kitchen is gradually sinking under the weight of the detritus from snack, coffee breaks, juicing and the like.

Old people don't firewood very fast when there are so many other things to do, like moving straw bales and hoses, planting a fall garden, or harvesting garlic. None of this stops wild geese from flying south, which they have been doing since mid-July (!!). The woodpile has fallen farther and farther behind in the schedule, and now if Risa cuts any more green stuff it will still be green by the time we need it, say, in February. 

Consequently we got onto Craigslist and found a nice man who is clearing a woodlot behind his house in town: good straight clear second-growth Douglas fir, some of which had died on the stump and seasoned itself. He brought us two cords for a decent price. Risa keeps a radio going, on a good old-time country station (think Jimmy Rogers and Patsy Cline) and walks back and forth, bringing two sticks at a time. The day is warming up, so the youngsters plan to take on the evening shift, after the shade of the maple falls over the woodpile.