avalancher
Arboristsite Raconteur
Now Greg,if you are reading this,please remember I am not making fun of you,I am simply relating our last woodcutting experiences.
Alright, since you all have taken such an interest in woodheat4me, or "#### Greg,look out!" as I have found easier to say when a nice big red oak is on its way down and he is ogling the woman who owns the place, I have decided to relate our last experiences from the previous weekend.Like before, i am a long winded bird, and if you have no patience, then hit the backbutton.
The day dawned like any other day, a bit windy, a bit of rain, and a mite chilly first thing in the morning.I spent the first hour looking for my lucky pants, I aint no fool.dont cut wood without your lucky pants.I found them under the dog, she thought they smelled nice and dragged them out of the laundry basket before settling down for the night.this should have clued me in how the day was going to go.
We loaded up the saws, tools, 11 roast beef sandwhiches left over from the night before, a hatful of ketchup packets for those sandwhiches, and a cooler full of Dew .I thoughtfully left out the liverworst cause I knew Greg was going to have enough of a day without leaving any exhaust fumes from his rear end.
We loaded up our cereal cups with a nice helping of mini wheats and parked in front of the boob tube to catch the morning weather report.As we sat there shoveling cereal in, Greg kept sniffing and looking around.Finally I had to ask him what the trouble was.
"Well,I keep smelling the dog, but i dont see her anywhere."
Rather than getting into a long discussion of how my pants smelled like labrador, I merily grunted and pointed out that she is old, and prone to leave a trail behind when she passes through.He seemed okay with that.
Before we headed out, I asked Greg if he wanted a quick cup of coffee before we started the day, he said sure.
After watching me dig around in the freezer,I guess curiosity got the best of him.
"What are you looking for in the freezer, fresh beans to grind?"
I laughed."Nope, non of that Yuppy fresh ground coffee in this house.I was looking for the ice cream."
"Ice cream, what does that have to do with coffee?"
"Well, its like this. You and I both like a little cream and sugar in our coffee,right?Well, I put a scoop of ice cream in the bottom of the cup like this, pour the hot coffee over it, and walla!Not only do you have both the sugar and cream you like, but your coffee is cooled down enough to drink in one big swallow.I aint got time to sit around all morning and sip the dang thing."
Well, he gave it a try while I swallowed mine down, and he did just fine until he ran across the almond pieces.Guess city folks aint used to finding chunky stuff in their coffee.
Breakfast behind us, we jumped in the truck and headed out.Our cutting for the day was going to be simple, a nice red oak in the yard of a real nice woman from our church.Before I got there,I explained that although the woman was nice looking, she was an honest church going woman, and to keep your eyeballs in his head.Being happily married, Greg reckoned he could accomadate my wishes.
Nearing our destination, I was busy looking at the GPS, hoping that it would clue me in on where the turn was.At the last minute I spied the rural road on the map, looked up, and realized that I was about to miss my turn.Sadly for Greg, my brakes work pretty good, even with a half ton trailer nailed on the back.
Greg hit the dash pretty hard I reckon, harder than i would have liked to, but lucky for me the steering wheel saved me from the dash. Then all hell broke loose.
As Greg layed against the dash in a daze, he happened to look down at the collection of stuff that had slid out from under his seat.Eyes wide, speechless, and with a flourish that I would have never expected from a guy his age, he had that door open and was bailing out before I had any idea what the problem was.I thought that maybe the whip cream that I had generously added to his cereal had maybe had an unplanned exit, so I really didnt think anything more about it.I finally managed to secure the emergency brake, got out, and cautiously approached the other side of the truck.Greg was nowhere to be found.
I glanced into the bed of the truck, and there was Greg, scrunched down and appeared to be ready for battle.
"Okay, whats up man?"
"There is something alive in your truck, I saw it! It had brown fur,teeth, and was just about to grab my leg!"
"WTF?Are you nuts?I got the rat out of there a long time ago!"
"No, it was real, i saw it!"
Well, this called for a little investigation.I cautiously approached the passenger side of the truck, expecting at any moment to be eaten alive.No sound was heard, but just in case i went ahead and peeled my knife from my sheath.
There, laying on the floor of the truck, was a coonskin pelt.We use it for training our hunting dogs to follow a trail, and in all honesty it did look rather brash.I couldnt help but smile.
Now, the best part of me really wanted to have some fun with Greg, but a quick look back at him made me realize that if i carried the joke any further, our day of cutting would probably be over.I hauled the pelt out of the truck,and at a distance showed it to him.
At first he was relieved, then he got a little pissed.
"What the heck do you carry that around in the truck for?"
I explained the process of training a new pup for coon hunting by dragging a fresh coon pelt across the yard and let him follow the trail to a treat. I didnt go into the explanation of how that pelt is preserved with cow brains mashed into it though, I thought that maybe that was more than what hsi city fellow brain could handle.
We finnally arrived at the house, and I introduced Greg to Ms.Copennan. She was a nice enough lady, but I sure wish she had put something on more than a robe and slippers, I needed Greg to be concentrating on getting this tree down on the ground and not on Ms.Copennan.
The morning past quickly, the tree hit the ground where we wanted it too, and we quickly had the brush cleared away and began cutting our lengths.As we worked, I noticed Ms.Copennan's cat wandering around, she was a little skittish everytime we made any fast moves in her direction, and looked an awful lot like a raccoon.So much so that I thought of the pelt in the truck and my brain began to get ideas.
Alright, since you all have taken such an interest in woodheat4me, or "#### Greg,look out!" as I have found easier to say when a nice big red oak is on its way down and he is ogling the woman who owns the place, I have decided to relate our last experiences from the previous weekend.Like before, i am a long winded bird, and if you have no patience, then hit the backbutton.
The day dawned like any other day, a bit windy, a bit of rain, and a mite chilly first thing in the morning.I spent the first hour looking for my lucky pants, I aint no fool.dont cut wood without your lucky pants.I found them under the dog, she thought they smelled nice and dragged them out of the laundry basket before settling down for the night.this should have clued me in how the day was going to go.
We loaded up the saws, tools, 11 roast beef sandwhiches left over from the night before, a hatful of ketchup packets for those sandwhiches, and a cooler full of Dew .I thoughtfully left out the liverworst cause I knew Greg was going to have enough of a day without leaving any exhaust fumes from his rear end.
We loaded up our cereal cups with a nice helping of mini wheats and parked in front of the boob tube to catch the morning weather report.As we sat there shoveling cereal in, Greg kept sniffing and looking around.Finally I had to ask him what the trouble was.
"Well,I keep smelling the dog, but i dont see her anywhere."
Rather than getting into a long discussion of how my pants smelled like labrador, I merily grunted and pointed out that she is old, and prone to leave a trail behind when she passes through.He seemed okay with that.
Before we headed out, I asked Greg if he wanted a quick cup of coffee before we started the day, he said sure.
After watching me dig around in the freezer,I guess curiosity got the best of him.
"What are you looking for in the freezer, fresh beans to grind?"
I laughed."Nope, non of that Yuppy fresh ground coffee in this house.I was looking for the ice cream."
"Ice cream, what does that have to do with coffee?"
"Well, its like this. You and I both like a little cream and sugar in our coffee,right?Well, I put a scoop of ice cream in the bottom of the cup like this, pour the hot coffee over it, and walla!Not only do you have both the sugar and cream you like, but your coffee is cooled down enough to drink in one big swallow.I aint got time to sit around all morning and sip the dang thing."
Well, he gave it a try while I swallowed mine down, and he did just fine until he ran across the almond pieces.Guess city folks aint used to finding chunky stuff in their coffee.
Breakfast behind us, we jumped in the truck and headed out.Our cutting for the day was going to be simple, a nice red oak in the yard of a real nice woman from our church.Before I got there,I explained that although the woman was nice looking, she was an honest church going woman, and to keep your eyeballs in his head.Being happily married, Greg reckoned he could accomadate my wishes.
Nearing our destination, I was busy looking at the GPS, hoping that it would clue me in on where the turn was.At the last minute I spied the rural road on the map, looked up, and realized that I was about to miss my turn.Sadly for Greg, my brakes work pretty good, even with a half ton trailer nailed on the back.
Greg hit the dash pretty hard I reckon, harder than i would have liked to, but lucky for me the steering wheel saved me from the dash. Then all hell broke loose.
As Greg layed against the dash in a daze, he happened to look down at the collection of stuff that had slid out from under his seat.Eyes wide, speechless, and with a flourish that I would have never expected from a guy his age, he had that door open and was bailing out before I had any idea what the problem was.I thought that maybe the whip cream that I had generously added to his cereal had maybe had an unplanned exit, so I really didnt think anything more about it.I finally managed to secure the emergency brake, got out, and cautiously approached the other side of the truck.Greg was nowhere to be found.
I glanced into the bed of the truck, and there was Greg, scrunched down and appeared to be ready for battle.
"Okay, whats up man?"
"There is something alive in your truck, I saw it! It had brown fur,teeth, and was just about to grab my leg!"
"WTF?Are you nuts?I got the rat out of there a long time ago!"
"No, it was real, i saw it!"
Well, this called for a little investigation.I cautiously approached the passenger side of the truck, expecting at any moment to be eaten alive.No sound was heard, but just in case i went ahead and peeled my knife from my sheath.
There, laying on the floor of the truck, was a coonskin pelt.We use it for training our hunting dogs to follow a trail, and in all honesty it did look rather brash.I couldnt help but smile.
Now, the best part of me really wanted to have some fun with Greg, but a quick look back at him made me realize that if i carried the joke any further, our day of cutting would probably be over.I hauled the pelt out of the truck,and at a distance showed it to him.
At first he was relieved, then he got a little pissed.
"What the heck do you carry that around in the truck for?"
I explained the process of training a new pup for coon hunting by dragging a fresh coon pelt across the yard and let him follow the trail to a treat. I didnt go into the explanation of how that pelt is preserved with cow brains mashed into it though, I thought that maybe that was more than what hsi city fellow brain could handle.
We finnally arrived at the house, and I introduced Greg to Ms.Copennan. She was a nice enough lady, but I sure wish she had put something on more than a robe and slippers, I needed Greg to be concentrating on getting this tree down on the ground and not on Ms.Copennan.
The morning past quickly, the tree hit the ground where we wanted it too, and we quickly had the brush cleared away and began cutting our lengths.As we worked, I noticed Ms.Copennan's cat wandering around, she was a little skittish everytime we made any fast moves in her direction, and looked an awful lot like a raccoon.So much so that I thought of the pelt in the truck and my brain began to get ideas.
umpkin2:
