We went over to mum’s on Sunday, primarily to wrap things for my sister’s birthday – oh god, it’s my sister’s birthday and I haven’t got her a card – so that we can then post it for my mum because, you know, reasons.
(Those reasons being she fell out with the local Post Office over non-delivery of something and, more recently, asked to move out of the way in the one in town and so can never show her face there again.)
As I was, unusually, not at work. I actually went over with Carole for once, and ended up in the garage chopping firewood. Because I am man. Hear me roar.
Chopping firewood in movies and TV shows is always portrayed as something super-sexy.
Mine, not so much.
For starters, in the garage I don’t have huge amounts of over-head room for hefty swings of long-handled tools. So I was reduced to using short axes and a hammer to drive them through the stumps. And for seconds, I was using short axes and a hammer to drive them thr…
When I last did this, mum came out after I had cut quite a lot of logs and said “Why don’t you use this hammer?” She then handed me a lump hammer which I had looked for but not found. I was just using the largest hammer I could get my hands on at the time.
This time, as my right arm – which really, really feels the burn now – was turning to jelly after swinging the hammer so much mum came out again and said, “Oh, try using this…” and gave me a swirly spike thing (not its actual name) which you smash into the wood and it splits stuff like a good ‘un. And it doesn’t lead to jelly arms as much because you’re getting a decent swing on the hammer.
Mum, it appears, is absolutely trained in providing a better solution after I have fought my way through things for a while…
That spike, though. Oh man, I felt like I could almost have pulled off the rugged movie wood-cutting with that thing. Aside from the heavy breathing, sweating and constant swearing. It worked like a charm.
And it provided huge boosts in confidence when you drove it into a log with such force that the log split and the spike embedded itself into the top of the logs below that I was using as an anvil.
I felt so alive.
And then yesterday afternoon I tried to lift the kettle with my right – hammer – arm.
I don’t feel so alive anymore.
I also can’t make hot drinks for a while.