Choppin' Wood

When  I was a kid, every fall my family had a tradition (dreaded chore?) that we did together.  We chopped wood- lots of it.  Mom and Dad have always heated the house with wood.  I have lots of memories of Dad with his chainsaw in the woods, my brothers with axes, and us girls helping to carry and stack it.  Well, times have changed and we are older, with kids of our own.  Mom and Dad have put a furnace in the house, but only use it as a backup.  My brothers are old enough to wield chainsaws, and we have discovered the wonders and joy of a hydraulic wood splitter.  Whoever invented this magical machine is a wonderful, wonderful person!  Just sayin'.

Last weekend David, Cathy, and I headed down to Mom and Dad's with our families to help with the annual woodcutting.  We had a magical woodsplitter that we had borrowed from some friends from church, a couple of chainsaws, my big Dodge truck and the little Toyota, and five kids who wanted to help.  There was a big tree down the creek and around the corner as well as one that blew over in the field.  I was very excited to kick the Dodge into 4WD and drive about a quarter mile down the creek where Dad and David were cutting the tree into logs.

See the little Toyota in the background?  That was the first vehicle I bought with my own money.  I've graduated to a larger vehicle that's not a manual transmission and carries more than two people, but I love that little truck.  Dad drives it now and he might love it as much as I do.  But I digress...

Look at David hoisting those logs.  We figured the smaller ones weighed about 300 pounds, and they got bigger.  He loaded my truck four times, I think, about 5-7 logs each time.  I tell you this because I am still impressed with his stamina and strength. 

And I wish I were as young as he is again.

Brian was on the receiving end to help unload and saw a different tree.  I mostly drove, but I did help Mom and Cathy run the wood splitter some.

Then it was down to the field to where Mom, Cathy, Brian, and the kiddos were working.  Marley and Cathy's youngest helped as much as their three year old selves could, but Cathy's three oldest were little workhorses!  Amongst climing up the cliff by the creek and the huuuuuge root ball of the tree that blew over, they stacked and helped to load the truck so we could take it up to the house.  And each time my truck went up and down the creek, there were little ones climbing up in the back for a ride.  I got cracked up, because this is what I saw every time I looked in the rear view window...

This is the stuff good memories are made of!