Posts Tagged ‘outdoor work’
Lotta Tree
It happened again. This time, the big willow tree by Cyndie’s perennial garden lost a third of its trunk when the added water weight from the more than 2 inches of rainfall brought down the section with the most lean.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
To make clean-up more interesting, it dropped into one of the more hearty patches of poison ivy on our property. Generally, we avoid setting foot anywhere the poison ivy grows. Yesterday, with a heavy dew soaking everything, we found ourselves up to our elbows in poison ivy. I fell down into it once when a branch I was tugging on broke free. Cyndie got splashed in the eye by moisture from the mix of ivy and tree leaves as she pulled branches out of the tangled mess.
It will be a miracle if one of us doesn’t break out in a rash in the next few days. We vigorously washed with special soap and tossed our clothes aside for segregated laundering.
I worked my way into the now-horizontal crown of the tree with the big chainsaw, being careful to avoid cutting something that was under tension that would either pinch the blade or shift the heavy trunk. When I had cut as much as I could reach, it became clear I would need to get the pole saw.
After I had removed as much of the weight as possible from the extended limbs, I started in on the biggest parts of the trunk. At one point, a trip up to the shop garage was required to get a pry bar to roll the beast so I could finish cuts. Throughout the entire effort, which consumed our whole day, we only needed to wrestle free the pinched chainsaw blade three times.
It seemed a little unfair that we were doing this again so soon after wrangling the fallen maple tree in the backyard. It was doubly worse because of the added hazards of poison ivy everywhere we worked. However, the saddest part about the timing of all this was that it was Cyndie’s birthday. Cutting up and tossing branches was not the spa day she would have preferred.
That was a lot of tree to process. We put all three sizes of our STIHL chainsaws to good use on the relatively soft wood. Man, that battery-powered trimmer saw is a handy tool for pruning branches.
Our priority of getting that work done was related to the fact that we are heading up to the lake today for the weekend with Cyndie’s mom, Marie. After the big physical effort to get through all that tree, we are looking forward to a few days of R & R on Big Round Lake.
.
.
Doesn’t Last
Even though I know that muddy conditions don’t last forever, I have a history of losing sight of that obvious fact after days of dealing with the worst of it. I was beginning to let it get to me last week.
This week was finally showing significant improvement on the mud front. I think that’s gonna end today. Snow is on the way again but I do know that the muddy conditions won’t last. Either we will get enough snow to cover the mud, or it will get cold enough to freeze the ground.
Or, it will just get muddy again and I will need to practice meditating on the fact it won’t last indefinitely.
Snow is another thing that doesn’t last. It might stick around until next spring, but it will eventually disappear and produce some sloppy mud in the paddocks. Maybe it’s time for me to reframe what gets my attention and start fixating on the days when the paddocks aren’t muddy at all.
I realize the preferred conditions don’t last either, but it becomes a glass-half-full perspective.
You know what else doesn’t last? Work gloves.
I picked up a couple of new pairs of my favorites yesterday and once again found myself fascinated by how dramatically these leather gloves change over a period of heavy use. I’ve tried a lot of different styles and settled on these for their versatility in a variety of conditions and because they are easy to quickly put on and take off.
In my outdoor activities, I find myself pulling off my gloves a lot. If necessary, I can shake one hand to throw off a glove. This becomes an excellent bonus feature when the other hand is unavailable because it is holding something in a firm grip.
My concern about work gloves is that this style won’t last as long as my need to replace them. I wonder if they sell these by the case…
.
.
Open Call
Dear Twin Cities friends and family, if you have been longing to get out in the fresh air of the countryside to put in a good day’s work helping take down a couple of dead trees, I have an opportunity for you!
On either Friday or Saturday this week, depending on the availability of a majority of hoped-for volunteers, I am plotting to finally bring down a crown of dead branches located at a particularly prominent front corner of our property.
It doesn’t appear be a complicated project, but it has potential to be a chore that many hands will greatly ease and likely expedite.
My plan involves using a chainsaw to cut down each of the 5 “trunks” sprouting from the common base of the first tree, and then grinding the multitude of small branches in our chipper. We will point the chute of the chipper into the bed of our pickup truck and haul the bounty to the storage nook by the labyrinth garden.
Any limbs larger than 5-inches diameter will be cut for firewood and hauled up to be stacked beside the wood shed.
When the first tree is out of the way, we will toss a rope into the second tree and repeat the routine with that skeleton.
The weather forecast six days out is looking promising to accommodate outdoor work.
Volunteers will be rewarded with food from Cyndie’s kitchen, your choice of take-home bags of wood chips or Wintervale soul-soil, and an invigorating workout in the great outdoors with bountiful good fellowship.
If you are ready, willing, and able for this one-day lumberjacking adventure, let me know as soon as you can.
Be all that you can be.
Just do it.
Advance and be recognized.
Snap! Crackle! Pop!
.
.
My Choice
The other day I picked up a pitchfork and worked up a sweat stirring compost. It was late afternoon and I was already tired from a full day of chores, so my energy was waning. My arms sent a notice of complaint to my brain.
“Tired. Don’t feel like working anymore.”
It occurred to me that, despite a prevailing mindset to use machines to do all our exhausting tasks, I prefer the precise control I can achieve with hand tools. I’m not as fast as a machine, and I tire easily, but I get more satisfaction.
In my head, I imagined someone interrupting my effort to suggest I use the bucket on the tractor, because I was huffing and puffing, straining at the effort, and breaking a good sweat.
I actually like the exercise, despite my body complaining that it is tired.
How hard is it to convince yourself to get up early and go to the gym for a healthy workout? The body would rather remain at rest, for sure. But to be physically fit, we have to push ourselves out of that resting comfort zone.
Next, I imagined myself at the gym, huffing and puffing at the effort to work my arms, lifting weight. Would someone suggest that there is a machine to do that for me, so I don’t have to work so hard?
I choose my pitchfork.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
Relative Something 