Tag Archives: hauling firewood

Hauling Wood. Like a Boss.

Fire5

Little known fact about me: I have an obsessive compulsive fetish when it comes to hauling and stacking firewood.  Yeah, weird.  I love it so much that whenever we go visit my sister and brother in-law I get really, really, pee my pants excited if the possibility of wood hauling and log stacking emerges.   Stacking logs into neat piles makes me happy!  Big piles, little piles, piles that go on forever…  If you have stray logs at your house, and I come to visit, I will stack them for you.  Try and stop me!

This time of year usually allows one last big firewood haul before the cold sets in.  Sis and Bro have a massive wood burning stove to heat their home, so they need a huge supply of firewood, and since Van and I have a little fireplace (really just for ambiance because it puts out practically no heat) we also need a small stash to get us through the winter.  During Thanksgiving Weekend, my husband, daughters, and I hauled wood on a neighbor’s acreage.  He has a perpetual supply of dead and fallen trees needing to be cleared and had given us permission to clear some trees that could be used as firewood.

It was an incredible morning!  The sun was out, the air was warm, and we were all in great spirits as we pulled up to the first fallen tree.  Van started up the chainsaw and made short work of the tree, then the girls and I started gathering up the stout logs and stacking them into the trailer.   For this story I couldn’t resist using Lonely Island‘s “like a boss” cliché because when it comes to hauling and stacking wood, I DO NOT mess around.  Laugh if you must, but I really get into the techniques of log organization.  We all have our OCD fetishes!

I haul firewood magically and authoritatively, like a boss, because I grew up hauling firewood.  We always had a wood burning stove to heat our home, and I still remember stacking log after log while my father hand split massive trunks with a hatchet.  I probably hauled and stacked an entire forest of firewood by the time I turned 21.   I can pick up an armload of logs and throw them onto the trailer in such a manner that they neatly stack themselves.  I can stack an eight foot wall so that each log fits against the others perfectly and the wall never even considers trying to collapse during the winter months.  Because I am the boss.  I can do all this quickly and tirelessly, and I won’t stop unless I get hungry.  Then I take a break and eat, like a boss.

Cutting up a dead tree for firewood.

Cutting up a dead tree for firewood.

Okay, I think the cliché has served its purpose to express how ridiculously much I LOVE to haul and stack wood.  Anyway, the best part of the family outing was just watching the girls get a kick out of nature.  They were like little foraging animals, digging under dead leaves for acorns and peeking in old hollow tree trunks.  They rustled around in the dry grass and searched for squirrels and chipmunks, then gathered kindling and smaller logs while I barked orders and safety reminders like a…drill sergeant.  We ended up with a nice cord plus load of firewood and the floor of my Expedition was covered in acorns when we were finished.  I guess that means my daughters can gather acorns.  Like a boss.  That is the last one, I promise!

—G

P.S.  I added the Wikipedia link for those unfamiliar with “like a boss”, which is basically doing anything aggressively and with authority (which is how I approach firewood).  I chose not to attach the link to the video on YouTube because I didn’t want close friends and family members wondering if I need Jesus.  The Wikipedia description is graphic enough.

The best part of our firewood haul:

Two sisters scrounging for logs and kindling.

Two sisters scrounging for logs and kindling.

Walking in very deep leaves!

Walking in very deep leaves!

Conks, or fungi that develop on dead or dying trees.

Conks, or fungi that develop on dead or dying trees.

A very beautiful view.

A very beautiful view.

Digging for acorns under the dry leaves.

Digging for acorns under the dry leaves.

Photography by Georgeann Van Delist