Well summer has indeed slipped on by again. As the years roll on by, the summers go even faster. When you are young and just a little tyke, the summers are so long and filled with adventure. But after seventy plus summers, they go by with a gentle poof. It becomes fall again. And then of course, winter is just around the corner. This would be about the only time that I miss those eight to five jobs sitting at my desk. Your work day is done. You venture home, slip on the golfing shoes and go for a round or two. You then come home to a leisure supper and wonder what next to do. But this is not so when you live in the country. You are trying to live the old life. The life as you did when you were that little tyke living on the farm. This becomes one of the busiest times of the year for any country folk. Vegetables need to be harvested and canned. Oh how I remember the smells in the kitchen as mother was canning the fall harvest. Apples were cut and hung to dry. Some were cooked and canned for apple sauce. Special apples were stored in bins down cellar. They had to be carefully placed so as not to bruise the apple. One bruised apple would rot quicker and ruin the whole bin full of apples. Blueberries had been picked, salted and canned for pies later in the winter. The work seemed to never end. Then, there was the chore of filling the wood shed. I don’t think there was ever a winter that we had enough wood put in the shed. Even when I worked in the woods. I would bring home anything that didn’t go to the mill. I had over twelve cord of wood that winter. But sure enough, we ran low on wood that spring. You see, the rule of thumb is it takes three cord of wood to keep the stove going. We had plenty of wood, so I put in another stove. With three stoves putting out the heat, every corner of the house was warm. It didn’t take long before the wood pile started shrinking.  Then along came January with that forty below zero weather. Our bodies were used to that nice warm heat from those cast iron stoves. It seemed as though I was constantly carrying in firewood. But the house was trying its best to keep us warm and healthy. Every once in a while, the temperature inside went  down to a cool forty five degrees. Once the stoves got hot and roaring, the temperature rose quite quickly. I was used to these ups and downs. As a youngster, I would have to break the ice in the pail just to get water for morning coffee. Oh, there were a few complaints but that’s life. Winter passed, spring came, and the wood shed was again empty. But there was still dry wood to be cut if one knew what to look for. Most forest have standing dead wood. This wood is almost as good as any in the wood shed. In the spring all one needed was heat that first couple of hours. The sun would burn bright and heat the house. I had learned long ago from my grandmother. “If it made smoke, it made heat”.   All one had to do was make sure the chimney stayed clean from creosote. There have been some winters, I had to burn the kitchen table to keep warm. I knew I could make another. There were many handcrafted articles put in the stove that winter. But by golly, I stayed warm. This year, I have two stoves that burn cut and split wood. I also have two stoves that burn pellets for heat. My wallet dictates that I gather as much wood as I can. But, the old back yearns for the ease of just pouring in more pellets. Winter is coming very soon. Time to finish filling the wood shed. Fire up the snow blowers and purchase those pellets. Just maybe I should become one of those silver haired snowbirds.  But I know I would miss the mountains.

Peace on folks.

Ken White mountainman for sure.

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