Woodpile

B called and he can help with the Jeep tomorrow morning. Had to miss B's brother telling stories at the lodge in the state forest because it was a beautiful day and I needed to split wood. Which I did, at a leisurely pace, most of the day. I'll rick it inside as soon as I get a chance, but I was sore and wasted at the end of the day and couldn't face up to the task. It's supposed to be dry for a few days, and not too cold, so I should be able to get the rest of the cut rounds into the shed. I feel better. If I can get into town tomorrow, I can get the correct tires ordered, and the shocks, and Knittle's can have them the following morning, Trent said it would take about 90 minutes. Two trips, but I can haul supplies: drinking water, a case of whiskey, ultra-pasteurized cream, juice. Important to drive those liquids to the ridge, while the driveway is solid. New, more aggressive, tires, and new shocks will cut down the number of times I have to walk in by a third, maybe half; and I don't want to carry much, fresh vegetables and meat, the occasional treat. I have to work out my library routine, check out more books at a time. Working in the woodshed today, mostly blue sky with scudding clouds, brisk, mid-forties, mindless activity in a mindful context, I felt good. At one point today, I'd split a piece, and the split revealed a worm burrow deep in the heartwood. This is very hard wood. You don't want to meet that worm in an alley. And there's a collection of what is probably excrement at the bottom of one tube. I poke at it with my pocketknife and the wind blows it all away. Wow, I thought, that's a hell of a digestive system. I have one final meal, thank god, of bean soup, then maybe I can get to some marrow bones. I want to roast root vegetables and cook a brisket.