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July along the Gulf Coast: searing heat, stifling humidity, mosquitoes on steroids.  Who is mindful of the nasty chore of loading, unloading, and stacking firewood?

Me!

This wood that I loaded to haul to my backyard this afternoon comes from a tree felled last December and split just last week.  Firewood is kind of like Tabasco Sauce or fine wine: It has to be cured; it requires six months to a year;  it can’t be rushed.
So working the wood pile goes on pretty much year round.  This afternoon, I recalled words of an old timer I heard some years ago: “Firewood burns twice: once in summer when it burns you up cutting/splitting/stacking, and once in winter when you pitch it in the fireplace.  So today, I did the first burn: unloading and stacking in hot July.  I’ll have my revenge on these pieces of Oak some December or January weekend morning when I lay them in the hearth and preside over their consumption with a cup of coffee and the morning news.
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