“Honey, our log truck of firewood is here.”

Here's our annual delivery of wood--a log truck's worth.

Yesterday morning the phone rang insistently at 7:30 a.m. as we sat on the living room couch sipping coffee and discussing camera ISO settings.  Barry was attempting to explain camera settings to Kathy, for the 600th time.

Finally, in desperation, he compared ISO settings to lighting wood stove fires.

Something about how higher ISO settings compare to throwing gasoline in the wood stove.  (I know this might not make sense to you photography buffs, but maybe, just maybe, his explanation made sense in the crevices of this non-mechanical brain.  Maybe.)

The nice log truck driver, Dick, prepares to unload our booty.

He grumped when the phone rang, because it interrupted our important photography lesson.

Nonetheless, I scrambled over his poor ailing knees accompanied by his horrified fears and protests concerning accidental injury, and reached the phone.

It was for him.

It was the fellow announcing that our load of wood was Ready to be Hauled.

Were we ready?

You bet.

We were off that couch and moving cars in the driveway before you could say “firewood”.

He grasps the unwieldy logs and piles them nicely so that we may later split them into firewood.

The driver called from the Citgo gas station in L’Anse.  How did he get to our house?  He was from Greenland, a couple of hours away, and didn’t know the local geography.

I gave flawless directions, including the infamous “the first driveway after the Pavement Ends sign.”

“If I get lost, I don’t suppose you have cell phone service,” he sighed.

No, Dick, we do not.  Please do not get lost.

Barry utilizes his Trusty Chainsaw to saw them into appropriate wood stove-sized lengths of firewood.

Dick showed up with our annual load of logs and Did Not Get Stuck in the Driveway.  It was tricky.  You remember my recent post about all our driveway ice?  How would you like to live on an ice rink?  I am here to report that driveway conditions are better, but still slippery.

Barry was crossing his fingers, big time.  He was nervous.  How do you pull a stuck log truck out of your driveway?  Would wood stove ashes save the day if he got stuck?

Luckily, he made it out.  He had to haul two more loads of firewood before sunset.  Reportedly, road restrictions take effect Monday and then there’s no more hauling on back-country roads until after the frost heaves disappear.

Kathy operates the trusty wood-splitter.

Just a few photos to show you what’s going to happen in future months.  We have to wait until the snow melts before we begin to saw, split and haul pickup truck loads to our woodpile.  (Actually, we may start before then, but we can’t haul until the snow recedes.)

First, Barry chainsaws.  We hope he can chainsaw with his ailing knees. (Editor Barry just joked that his knees are not sharp enough to cut all that wood.  LOL!)

Second, Kathy and Barry split the wood, with the assistance of our Trusty Woodsplitter.

Third, we load the firewood pieces in the 1949 Studebaker pickup truck and haul them to the woodpile.

Fourth, we unload the truck and stack the wood in the wood room.

Fifth, we build fires in our wood stove every day in cold weather.

Even the kids got in on the action during their childhood. Here, we're handing Dad logs to stack in the wood room.

You’re wondering the cost of this logging truck of logs?

$850.

You’re wondering if we have back-up heat?

Yes.  We use it when we go on vacations, or when the temperature plunges below 62 degrees in the house.

You’re wondering why we burn wood?

Because wood heat is the loveliest heat on the planet.  Because we were very very poor when we moved here and tried to live “off the land”.  Because it’s good exercise.  Because we bond as we “do firewood”.

Because we can’t imagine NOT burning wood.

Excuse me.

I must go stoke the fire.