{"id":15429,"date":"2021-02-19T09:39:41","date_gmt":"2021-02-19T16:39:41","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/rodbinder.com\/journal\/?p=15429"},"modified":"2021-02-19T17:00:11","modified_gmt":"2021-02-20T00:00:11","slug":"feb-19","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"http:\/\/rodbinder.com\/journal\/2021\/02\/19\/feb-19\/","title":{"rendered":"Feb 19 More Damage"},"content":{"rendered":"

God made them as stubble to our swords.<\/strong> <\/p>\n

Oliver Cromwell<\/strong><\/p>\n

I made it to town and back again, got groceries got my parcels made it home. My back was sore just from that. I looked at the log hoop, no way I had enough to get me through until morning. I had to go out and chainsaw and chop. My back was screaming during the cutting. I got through that. <\/p>\n

It even held while I was chopping, until the second last piece of wood, I reached down to pick up the log for another swing, and a Sabre plunged into my back right above the kidney. I was almost healed from that. So what do you do when you are the only one here. Keep going. I loaded the split wood, got snow for melt. I even got everything inside. I had to retrieve the saw from the garage I screamed with every step. Getting my overalls off was an exercise in pain. Sitting in my chair typing this I feel pain from my kidneys to the back of my skull. The damage is worse than before.<\/p>\n

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