If you've been reading here more than two days, you know that my husband Ben loves trees. Mostly the kind you cut down and burn in the woodstove, but occasionally the long, straight kind you take to the sawmill and make lumber out of. In fact, we have lumber that was milled from trees we cut on our property in Tennessee in 2003 and hauled all the way up here to Virginia. It's been stacked neatly in the garage since we moved here 6 years ago. Ben's going to make things out of it in his spare time, as soon as he quits his current career, stops working on more master's degrees, isn't teaching Sunday school and being a deacon, and nothing else on the house needs to be fixed. He says it's like money in the bank. We are rich.
Anyway, he and Elijah have been cutting trees for a neighbor this week, and the latest huge pile of firewood is sitting in the driveway waiting to be split and stacked. They left two long logs down there, and today was the day to bring them home.
Yes, that's the family van we work out of.
Rolling the logs to the trailer.
Trying mental telepathy to get them on the trailer.
Time for plan B.
Fasten a chain around the middle
and haul it up there with Ole Blue & White.
Plan C: 4 men, 2 cant hooks, lots of grunting.
Getting close . . .
. . . almost there . . .
It looks like they're talking, but they're really just trying to get their breath.
Here's how they unloaded them at home:
Untitled from Karen Sargent on Vimeo.
Be thankful ~