The empty wood rack haunted me every time I left my house. In the end, it reminded me that getting started is the first step in achieving any goal.
I can’t remember the last time I used the front door to enter our house. It is a special portal reserved for surprise visitors and random delivery people.
Most people make their way in and out of our home through the garage.
Just outside the garage sits our wood rack. The woodstove in my study runs pretty consistently throughout the fall and winter months.
For the past few years, we have purchased our firewood. That was not always the way things were done.
Pre-cancer Dan would fire up the chainsaw, head to the woods, and harvest what was needed. Cutting and splitting firewood was therapeutic and enjoyable. Years ago, it would have been a family experience with Nancy, Joseph, and Rayann joining the work. They approached the task with varying levels of energy and enjoyment. We would make a weekend of it and stockpile what was needed for the winter over a few days.
Each time I stepped outside the garage this spring, it felt like the empty wood rack was mocking me. Six years of cancer treatments left me without the energy to approach the task like in years past. Instead, the mere thought of a full day cutting, splitting, and stacking wood made me long for the recliner.
One afternoon I sharpened the chain on my saw and headed toward the woods. I slowly cut up a few downed trees and moved the pieces to the wood rack. Over the next few days, my ax and maul took the logs and turned them into firewood.
A few days later, it was back to the woods. The process was slow. Sometimes I would go out and split a single log before I needed to rest. Days turned into weeks, and the wood rack began to fill up. [Read more…]