Yesterday was the first day I’ve spent “gathering firewood for winter” ever. I went for the low fruit: a pile of maybe rotting and upon inspection not wood confirmed by the property manager as up for grabs about 100 yards away. And over a small berm. Ez: eight wheel barrel loads later that’s that.

There was a rat momma ferrying to a yet to be located spot at least 3 clinging babies who were all way disturbed from their home being disassembled. I don’t want to make a rat den outside the back door guys.

Today’s wood is also about 100 yards and equidistant on the opposite side of the same path and this time is a semi chopped up tree. Think 6-15 foot sections. Also, like yesterday’s, this is exceptionally seasoned wood. That means uber dry, bark naturally falls off. Easy to carry. Great for forest fires too!

Now, I’m hardly one to use a hand saw much and let me tell you I was at maximum effort in no time cutting those thicker sections. I had to alternate, counting anywhere from 15 to 35 strokes before switching, and probably with a break in between. OMG my shoulders are just toast.

Anyway, before I’d gotten anywhere, something bit my hand, twice actually, about 1 inch between. And I was wearing gloves. I think it was a bee biting because there were a bunch buzzing around once I woke up to the fact that other things are here too. Was the rat actually a heads up for this too?