Moving bits of wood from place to place... just another day in the country

There are some things about living in a town or city that are quite a bit easier, and one of them is energy. In the absence of a sizeable enough population, or proximity to a pipeline, gas is something you just have to do without. Instead, we rely on heating oil and, for warmth, firewood, both of which require a little more in the way of organisation - they both need to be delivered, and in such a way that you don't run out before new supplies arrive.

We have our firewood delivered, and at some point in the day, a lorry comes and lifts a pallet of wood, wrapped in plastic netting onto our driveway. Then, at the first opportunity, the wood has to be stored, which in our case means moving it all, by hand, to the woodshed. Usually, we buy wood in 0.6 cubic metre bags! which takes a while to shift, but is doable. This week, they only had 1.5 cubic metre bags, rather more of a challenge.

So, yesterday was spent moving and stacking logs. It's not as easy as it sounds, as you need to stack it tidily so as to get as much in, as safely, as possible. And, of course, the logs are heavy and roughly sawn, so splinters are a hazard. But, with the benefit of my regular(ish) workouts, I'm in slightly better shape, so I set to work, selecting logs by eye for length and shape, to make the stacks neat and safe.

The weather was alright, and I made pretty good progress between cups of tea, as the woodshed got fuller and the pile of wood outside shrank to less daunting proportions. And, eventually, we had a full woodshed.

I wonder what we do with the rest of the wood?...