God is a verb, not a noun.
R. Buckminster Fuller
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O2 and pulse. I just finished cutting and hauling wood. Splitting will come later.
My breathing is difficult and I am overheated. If it wasn’t for the saw stalling out I would have kept going.
That might have killed me. I never was good at quitting a job, unless given no other choice. Today I had none.
I managed, barely, to load up the old wheelbarrow full of wood, and get it over the logs that were covered in snow yesterday now exposed and in the way. I slowly pushed that into my garage ready to split. I stumbled back inside and peeled clothes layered way to thick for the warm weather. One foot a time, I made my way to couch only stopping long enough to grab the tablet, then collapsed into a coherent pile long enough to upload today’s pictures and lay down these words. Not sure why God gave me the strength but will be very thankful later basking in the warmth of the fire. Stay home be safe.
Splitting is done maybe for the last time this winter. Snow is melting quickly. I will need to continue cutting I need the blocks moved so I can get another load of wood delivered before winter happens again. As long as I survive the COVID-19 crisis.
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