Mercy! Mercy! That Dang Nabed PERCY!

Boiled Water and Plenty of Fluids

Linda has gone off with her friend for the day leaving the dog and I to our own devices. One of those is woodcutting. With every load there are always a couple of humongous logs that I work around until I have no choice but to deal with them. Some are so large in diameter I have to cut them from both sides. Then I have to salami slice in order to manhandle them up to the splitter. Once you get that accomplished they yield plenty of firewood but the work can be a real pain in the you know what.

When the chain saw is going Honey, my Golden Doodle puts as much distance between the loud noise as she can manage but when I cut if off she comes bounding up and begins running circles around the woodpile. I love to see her expend the energy rather than lying around sleeping all the time. That dog is one heck of a sleeper.

The weather for the next week is more of the same deep chill. Highs are in the low teens and lows dip below zero. That’s not factoring in the wind chill that takes away much of my sap and energy. Still every day I resolve to bundle up and do something about the firewood. Maybe it’s only going out and blocking a single chainsaw tank of gas. Maybe its only splitting a half a trailer load of wood. At still other times it’s stacking a little of the surplus that accumulates around the shed. That’s the way it is with my woodcutting and it’s the same approach I take with my writing. I try and do a little every day.

Over the years I’ve discovered that mood or frame of mind has little to do with the quality of my work. Sometimes the best stuff comes at times when I least want to be writing. It’s sort of like going to a social function you dread, only to discover once you get there, that it's enjoyable. At other times I’m all amped up to write but nothing very exciting gets dredged up from the creative well and I wind up with a product that makes me yawn. Still, I’ve learned that you have to keep at it, pecking away like a little chicken, and eventually you'll find the groove.

In the Military I was required to read one of the seminal works on war. A fellow named Clausewitz wrote it and I have to say it was one of the most dragged out boring pieces of literature I’ve ever read. He seemed to drone on and on with an endless exposition of the boring and obvious. Then suddenly, like following a thin vein of gold, a pocket would open and the reader would strike the mother load. It didn’t happen often mind you, but often enough to make the effort worthwhile.

Clausewitz was a Prussian general during the Napoleonic Wars who arrived late for the battle of Waterloo. His wife was a lady in waiting in the inner circle of the court. After the war was over a cholera epidemic broke out and he was sent by the King to establish a “Cordon Sanitaire.” He probably drank some water tainted by the bacteria. In any case he died. After his death his wife compiled his writing and got his book published. I’m not sure why I’m sharing this historical nugget of trivia, except to say that nothing ever turns out quite the way we imagine it.