For a long time as a youngster, I wondered why I was always the one chosen to do the chores. I was 8 years of age, and the others were 10 and 6. My next older brother had a small problem with epilepsy while the youngest was the baby of the family. This is where I learned a lot of survival stuff. Little things such go out into the woods, cut the biggest white birch we could drag back to the house. This was to be cut and split for the kitchen stove. So, with the bucksaw and axe we filled the wood box.  We would cut up an old tire to start the fire and put a few sticks in the oven to dry for the next filling. A tree in the winter has less sap than any other time of the year. Once the stove started jumping up and down, we were all set for the day. But if the weather was good on Saturday, we began filling the woodshed again. All this doing the chores started when I was old enough to cut white birch edgings from the mill in Strong. I was, after all, old enough at 5 years of age to keep the kitchen wood box full. I tend to think this was the beginning of my inner strength.  It also sealed within me, “Never mind, I will do it myself”. And yes, I learned to sew my own clothes.

I grew up feeding the wood stoves.  I can remember needing to break ice off the water pail to start the coffee for Mom and Dad as I started the fire in the kitchen stove. I was only 8 years old at the time, a normal routine. My bedroom was the closest to the kitchen. I now heat my house with two wood burning stoves. It seems as though I keep coming back to heating with wood. There was a wind chill of 26 below and the old body decided not to feed the stove on schedule. I missed two feedings. When I climbed out of bed, the temperature down in the cellar was a cool 29 degrees. The temp in the kitchen was better at 39 degrees. I sat with my coffee cup just a foot away from one wood stove until the house got up to 50 degrees. The stove got a nice pretty red and I just had to keep moving further away. Gotta love those old cast iron stoves. It was the warmest thing I have sat next to all winter.

I firmly believe a bunch of do-gooders got together and decided how smart they were and began to upgrade everything. In doing so, they have stolen many great learning abilities from the younger generations.

When I was in my teens, I had to learn to make do with what I had. If something broke, I just fixed it. One could make a fan belt from silk stockings. This would get you back home for sure. But you had to explain who originally wore those socks. You could have used your belt, but that was less exciting. These smart folks have robbed us of this inventing ability and made us absolutely dependent on someone else.

Now as a teenager in the 50’s, I had to improvise. I had a pickup truck that, when you went around a left-hand corner too fast, the cab would tip a bit. The faster you went, the more the cab tilted. If you hit a bump too hard, the heavy wooden bumper you put on would break the headlights. Upgrading in this situation was a good thing. But, when I upgraded to a new phone, believe me folks, my anxiety meds were put to work for two weeks.

In the 60’s I actually worked as an office boy. I had to type out menus for a well-known camp on Dodge Pond. I typed on one of those Underwood typewriters where you had to bang on those keys. If I typed too softly, then the third menu was too light due to that carbon paper in the middle.

Now, as an older person with a shaking hand, and a fat thumb, I swear a lot at this newfangled, upgraded phone. Just as soon as I touch the letter, it’s best to pull that fat thumb away quite quickly. If you don’t, this so-called smart phone takes you exploring underwater caves off the coast of some forgotten island.

I’m not even gonna start on how I feel about upgraded vehicles.  At 10 below my truck tells me the engine is too hot and to shut the AC off. I just started the darn thing.

Sent to you from my new phone, which I have not named as of yet. I surely have called it many different names. Which makes me miss Mom. She used to call me by those same names.

Well y’all have a fine day, gotta dig some wood outta the snow while the sun is out.