I know: weird title for Valentine's Day, I admit.
A few posts ago, I mentioned the Western Carolina winters, and the fact that this is when you would like to get your yard work done.
A few posts ago, I mentioned the Western Carolina winters, and the fact that this is when you would like to get your yard work done.
In summer,
this is impossible, let’s face it. As much as you would like to gear up and rip
out the weeds following a good day of rain, the heat will bear down on you
until you feel like you are lifting weights in a sauna. And what goes hand in
hand with heat? Aside from the southern humidity, which is a given, there are
the bugs. Even with my net outfit (including the head gear) that protects every
square millimeter of skin, there are drawbacks. One, you will sweat even more.
And when you do, you will want to wipe it off every once in a while. No can do.
If the bugs can’t get to your skin, it stands to reason that you can’t, either.
This is why
winter is absolutely perfect here. It will get cold, but never excruciatingly
so. A hooded sweater or a jacket will probably do. Once the temperatures drop
below the 60’s, it’s hasta la vista
to the insects. Now I can come out and play.
Our
property, of course, is heavily wooded on one side. There are some huge trees,
including pines, oaks, maples, and an old elm. It’s the main perk of living in
this area. Summers, even in the Foothills, can get muggy, which is where it
helps to have a 100 foot oak shading your house. When the breeze sails through
the trees, you feel at peace with the world.
Now as much
as I love trees, tree remains (or trash, if you prefer) are a fact of life. Whenever
a 100 foot oak tree drops a branch, you will hear it and later see it. We
bought a nice dining table plus the chairs for our patio a while back, meaning
we can have dinner outside in the summers, weather permitting. A small branch
(which is relative—it was about seven feet) detached itself and annihilated one
of the chairs. Again, relative to the size of the tree, this was a small
branch, but I marveled at the thoroughness at which the branch went through
that chair that was made of sturdy, solid wood.
After the
branches’ suicidal plunges, it’s time for the cleanup. I first chopped up the
wood with an axe until I realized this was no longer feasible. It took too long,
and even at my current, steady pace, I just wasn’t going to cut up all the wood
quickly enough on a property that spans almost five acres.
Curtains
up, enter the chainsaw. It’s just a small chainsaw with an 18 inch blade. It
would hardly make a dent in our old oak tree, but the fallen branches now can
be sliced and diced and eventually charred in a fire. I have largely caught up
with my yardwork. It works like a charm. The old elm tree recently dropped a
branch the size of a small whale, and it took me three weeks until I had it all
cut up and burned. It would have taken me years to cut it up using an axe. By
then, the tree would have stood a better chance dissolving or flying into
space.
So, no, for
all tree huggers out there, my chainsaw is not for going gangster on a bunch of
defenseless trees, but to cut up their bones, errr, limbs, errr, big branches
the moment they’ve dropped to the ground. They will hardly grow peg legs and walk
themselves off the property.
And so we
can have some good evening bonfires with the kids with all the wood we have.
Time to break out the marshmallows and the ‘dogs.
A toast to
you, Mr. Chainsaw.
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