The fellow next door had a load of wood delivered: what looked like tonnes of round slices of eucalyptus waiting for someone to break them into wedges and split them into pieces suitable for the fire. I looked at the pile and imagined the effort that had gone into felling the tree and slicing it up into the pieces which lay scattered around and, more importantly, the effort which was still required to take advantage of the heat stored in the wood.
Did he intend to leave it where it was, on his front lawn, and did he intend to cut it up in that spot, where everyone could see him at his labour? Apparently not, because I saw him and a couple of his mates looking at the pile, metaphorically scratching their heads and wondering how they would get it all into the backyard. They had a small wheelbarrow and somehow had managed to get one enormous slice of wood to balance on the top. But it was clearly impossible to wheel it forward without enormous effort.
On her walk with Archie, Marilyn pointed out to the neighbour that he had some wood delivered. he told her it had come from the family property and he was pleased he wasn't paying for it.
On my next reece, I saw that a small truck had appeared and the four fellows were working together to heave the various bits onto the back of it. It must have worked because after an hour or so, it was all gone. The lawn, of course, was a bit of a mess but that can be remedied over time.
The next day, another load appeared and the rigmarole started all over again.
I question whether it's worth all the effort, not to mention the resultant pollution. Give me air conditioning every time.
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