Firewood, Wood Ear and Cardio Workouts!

   It was another wood-cutting sort of day!  The sun was shining and the woodpile, though still well stocked, can always use replenishing.  So...I cut wood!  Now let me clarify something here about all of this wood cutting and splitting.  I do it because I enjoy being able to do it.  We have a log-splitter that may come in handy some day but, for now, I do it the "old-fashioned" way.  It is my idea that it is best to be able to do things for yourself instead of always being dependent on others.  Son and Mark cut wood but if they are off working on other things...I CAN DO IT!  Plus, it is one of the best cardio workouts you can do!  It seems that the previous posts caused some concern among folks, and while I appreciate that concern, it is far from necessary.  I split firewood.  I can use a chainsaw.  I garden.  I push a lawnmower.  I paint the house. I put up fences. It is my choice...I do it...I enjoy it...'nuff said.  

  Like I said it was another wood-cutting sort of day so I was out as soon as the temperature reached 40 degrees.  I grabbed the tools and headed to where I had stacked several logs from the hike yesterday...and...I was distracted by some lovely mushrooms.  On the wood I had just stacked, wood ear fungi had sprouted up overnight!  They were huge!  In fact, I have never seen any quite this large and, this time, Bat was still indoors!  That cat would have already torn my beautiful mushrooms to pieces had he been out before me.  After taking several photos of the fungi, I decided that those particular logs would not be cut today.  I had to skip down to the next pile.

  The logs were cut into firewood length with the saw then split with the axe.  After grabbing a drink of lemonade, the logs were hauled to the woodpile and neatly stacked.  Twice, I filled the wheelbarrow with my lovely firewood.  Yep!  My cardiologist will be proud!  I am proud.  I do not want to become fat, lazy and dependent on others, if I can help it.  That day will come soon enough.  I will keep doing what I can in the meantime.

Basking in the Sun

   After another cold night, more firewood was needed.  The old wood-burning stoves can put out lots of heat but only if you constantly feed them their favorite food...wood.  I was happy that what I had hauled in last night did carry me through the cold morning.  While our "cold" may not seem like much to others, it does seem bitterly cold to us down here in the Deep South.  We are so accustomed to winter being more like a late fall than anything else that when the temperature does drop into the 20s, we are COLD!  Like I said, though, I had enough wood to see me through until almost 9am.  Then, it was out to cut more wood.  This is all working out well since it cleans the yard.  After the last few tropical systems blew through, there are enough stacks of logs needing cut to see us through the entire winter.  So...out to the stacks, I went.

  At one point, I stopped to stare at the Bay.  The sun was out beaming with brilliance making me want to be on the pier instead of cutting firewood.  Pier??  What is that on the pier??  Down toward the outer end of the pier was a dark blob.  From the distance, I could not make out any distinguishing marks to tell if this was a bird, an otter or just some debris that blew onto the planks.  There was only one thing to do.  Time to take a break, grab the camera and stroll down the hill.

  With the first step on the pier, my mystery blob came to life!  A long neck stretched up and wings flared out.  Ahh, Gus, the brown pelican was basking in the warm sunshine!  He had his head tucked beneath his wing when I first noticed him so there was no way of telling just who was there!  Ole Gus was probably just like me.  We want to be warm!  At least, I have the Little Bayou House and the cast iron stoves to keep me warm at night.  Gus sits on the pier with the north wind making things miserable.  Thinking of this, I eased back off the pier and let Ole Gus bask in the sunshine undisturbed.

Bat Attack On The Mushrooms!

   The trouble with inheriting cats from other places, is they are curious as to the doings of the Bayou and surrounding areas.  The "throwaway" cat that came to live at the Little Bayou House is no different.  Add to the fact that "Bat" is still actually a kitten in a rather large. adult-sized body and that curiosity can often get out of hand.  He is never still.  Bat climbs, explores, falls into and literally obliterates almost everything he contacts.  Poor buddy has a long way to go before becoming a true Bayou Cat.

  Today, I cut firewood.  This is getting to be a tiresome chore for an old lady but if I expect to keep the wood-burning stoves chugging along relentlessly, it is a chore that needs to be done. So, I do it.  After cutting and hauling several loads to the woodpile, I came across a dozen or so large oak chunks that needed to be split.  THAT is even harder for me to do now.  Swinging an axe is something best left to younger folks.  Still, since it was there, it could not hurt to give it a try.  I did fairly well and got enough split for at least a few burnings.  

  It was on one of the logs that I noticed some very large mushrooms.  Even though they were a greyish brown, the things were rather lovely...in their own right.  They appeared to be so soft and velvety!  Thinking I should photograph the 'shrooms, I traded the axe for the camera.  At the very moment I tried to photograph the mushrooms, Bat decided to attack!  The mushrooms were soon a matted, flat mess!  That crazy cat is not the best friend of any camera toting person!  He is a rascal!  Grow up, Bat!!

And Then It Was Gone...

   Since hurricane season, the windows of the Little Bayou House still wear their storm covers.  One thing or another has gotten in the way of removing and storing the panels.  For the past month, it felt sort of like living in a box or greenhouse.  It was hot and I could not see out through the panels.  Light filtered through but the view is blocked.  I shrugged it off and thought it really did not matter if they stayed up all winter. The panels would block a lot of the winter's chill that blows in off of the water.  It was all good.

  Then, today, I realized that I do care!  The old wood-burning cookstove has been chugging away with the cold front that moved in last night.  The fire feels good but keeping it stoked is just an added chore.  Late this afternoon, I made quick dash out for another armload of firewood.  It only takes a moment since the woodpile is nearby so I left the paneled door that covers the french doors open.  I dashed out and then back again.  I was just in time to see the lightshow taking place on the floor.  Throwing the wood in the bin, I grabbed the camera to snap a photo of this beautiful sight!  Then, as quickly as it appeared, the colors faded and were gone.  

  I miss seeing the rainbows filling the room.  With the windows and doors covered, it is blah in here.  Do I dare ask Son to remove and store the panels while he is in the midst of rebuilding the shelves in the dining room just so I can have rainbows dancing every afternoon?   Nah...better wait until he has a free day.   And...just my luck, once they are down we will have a winter storm with hurricane force winds.  Maybe I should just move the prisms and crystals to a new location.  Still, it was exciting to see them today after such a dreary few days.

Cute, Little Possum Face!

   It was a tiring day with not much of a break to go hiking about the hillside. With a few more days of cold weather settling in around us, cutting more firewood was in order.  This is all good because it "kills two birds with one stone".  (Not that I go around killing birds or even throwing rocks at them.)  With still lots of limbs and trees down from Hurricane Zeta, the firewood gathering, not only provides us warmth, but clears more debris.  It has been a slow go with that cleaning but this is helping tremendously. 

  It was my chore to haul and stack the wood.  Mark cuts, Son splits and I stack.  I am ok with this as it gives the mind a chance to wander around in the dark corners of the brain and pull out any thoughts that have been hidden.  I was in deep thought as I unloaded an armload of firewood.  I was taken aback when I saw a face looking back at me from the woodpile!  No, there was not a living critter there but rather a figment of the imagination.  As a toddler, Granddad had taught me to "look for faces" in just about anything and everything.  Well, I found a cute, little possum face in a chunk of firewood.  Or, maybe it is an aardvark...only we do not have those on the Bayou...so possum, it is!  

  I was so tickled by the cute little face that I had to show Son.  He is very obliging but still sighs deeply and says, "You are certainly easily amused".   Perhaps this social distancing and self isolation thing is getting to me.  The social interaction with people has started causing me to find entertainment in odd places.  But...I do see it!  Cute, little possum!  You just have to love pareidolia! 

Just do it

   After Hurricane Zeta hit us with full force, we had more work than we could shake a stick at.  It was overwhelming especially since I was still recovering from the stroke and heart problems.  I was told to "take it easy", "do not overwork" and "let others help".  Well, that is all fine and dandy except, there was no time to take it easy and was virtually impossible not to overwork.  That part about "let others help"...well, no one did.  Son and I had to do it.  We struggled and are still neck deep in debris and repairs.  We will get there.  Today, however, was spent more in helping others.  Why?  Because that is what we do.  Bayou people help others. It is the neighborly thing to do.

  Several large trees were downed on my brother's place.  He is not in the physical condition to clean up the mess so, since Mark was home, he decided to cut the downed trees.  We would just clean up the place.  No problems.  Mark cut the huge tree and Son split the logs with the axe.  I tried to help load the smaller ones but, once again, am under orders not to do much.  While cutting, Mark had the idea that my other brother could use some of the firewood.  So...he cut, Son split and loaded wood for that brother.  After several hours, the place was cleared, the firewood was all cut, loaded, hauled and stacked and we were exhausted, yet again.  

 Folks, while we are an independent sort and will get our work done without the "let others help" crew that never shows, there are those who occasionally need a helping hand.  They do not ask.  They, too, try to fend for themselves.  This is where kindness and generosity come into play.  Just do it.  Do not wait to be asked.  Just do it.  Do not expect anything in return.  Just do it.

Seeing Possibilities

   The back is sore!  After clearing the remaining small gardens and upper hill of debris, I pushed a lawnmower for a couple of hours.  This was to mulch the small stuff that remained after removing anything that was too large for the mower.  By late morning, I was ready to move onto a new chore,  There was a huge pile of firewood that needed to be stacked.  Mark had used the chainsaw to cut up four of the felled trees on the lower part of the hill.  The logs had to be hauled up the hill and then stacked neatly for the winter.  This will be used in the two wood-burning stoves that heat the Little Bayou House. 

  While stacking the wood, the mind is free to ramble as it may.  It was during those ponderings that I realized, at least, Hurricane Zeta gave us warmth for the winter.  It is often hard to find any good point about storms but, if you search long and hard enough, you can find that all is not bad.  It is all a point of perspective.  If you look at the destruction and see bad, it will be bad.  If you look at it and see possibilities, they will arise.  I prefer the latter.  The gardens are being redesigned, the greenhouse roof is being improved and the pier is being rebuilt sturdier.  In fact, the entire place is getting a "makeover"!  Storms give us that opportunity.  Otherwise, we get lackadaisical and tend to shrug off some chores "to another day" or we wait for the elusive "round to it".  

  

Light At The End Of The Tunnel?

  With another cool spell descending upon the Bayou, it was quite pertinent that I gather a bit of kindling for the old cast iron stove.  There are, in fact, two wood-burning stoves in the Little Bayou House that need to be fed when the weather takes a turn on the cooler side.  These early stages of winter just beg for a bit of warmth and the stoves provide just that.  The cat, old dog and I will huddle near the crackling embers and while away the evening hours.  Ms. Nycto will be on my lap and Mr. PJ will rest near my feet.  All in all, it makes for a perfect evening but only if I gather enough sticks to stoke the fire a bit.

  I took the long way around the property to gather an armload of "fire sticks" as my sweet granddaughter calls them.  The old stoves do not need large logs to put out a nice heat.  An armload or two of small branches will burn for hours.  The path took me around back to the canebrake.  This path heads due north and is, more or less, a tunnel like feature with large trees making a canopy overhead and thick underbrush lining the sides.  Sometimes, it can seem quite dark even during the bright of day.  This afternoon, the "tunnel' was cast in gloom from the overcast skies and a brisk north wind made it feel icy cold.  I was ever so thankful to feel my canvas log tote weighted as it meant my hike was about complete. At this same time, the sun shone through just enough to give me that "light at the end of the tunnel" feeling.   It was time to head back to the Little Bayou House and get warm.  A mug of hot ginger tea and some warm pumpkin bread fresh from the oven awaited my return!  All is well.

Seen In A New Light

  Down here on the Bayou, we are told to watch out for many "invasive" critters and plants.  It seems that waterways are an easy way for invasive species to get a foothold.  While I have not found but two invasive critters (a Cuban frog and a Brown Anole), plants are a different story.  Often, these plants are washed in on the tides.  The plants are usually discards from someones gardens and goldfish ponds.  Plenty of folks use no commonsense when it comes to properly disposing of plants.  "Throw them in the Bay" seems to be the brilliant idea of many folks.  Hey now!!!  Those pretty water plants can soon clog waterways and create all sorts of problems for wildlife.  They also deplete oxygen from the water and literally suffocate a lot of critters.  I try my best to fish out the offending plants and either find them homes in another landscaped pond or destroy them.  That is usually easier said than done, however, as I have no way of scavenging the entire shoreline for misplaced plants.

  Along the shoreline, there are dozens and dozens of one particular invasive species.  The popcorn tree or tallow tree has strewn enough seeds about the marsh to make a regular nuisance of itself.  This fast growing tree blooms and then bears thousands upon thousands of seeds each summer.  By late fall, birds, squirrels, rats and coons are all feasting on those seeds.  Well...what goes in must come out and the seeds have been transported to a new growing spot via poop.  There seems to be no easy way to eradicate such a prolific species.  So...quickly spreading and fast growing has me pondering something.  Does tallow tree wood burn nicely in the fireplace?   If suitable, I would have a ready source of wood for the wood burning stoves!  Not a bad idea, if I do say so myself!  A bit of research is called for here.

  This morning, the rising sun was beaming across the Bayou and onto the tallow trees across the way.  The trees were putting on quite the extravagant show with their long, golden tassels.  My goodness!  I was now seeing the tree in a new light..literally!  The golden sunlight on the golden tassels was a sight to behold!  Maybe...just maybe, tallow trees have a place here on the Bayou...at least, a couple of them, anyway.

Disturbing Their Winter Slumber

  Some critters have the right idea.  They find a snug spot to overwinter so they do not have to deal with the cold weather.  I am contemplating if that would not be the happiest thing for all of us to do.  Burrow down under a thick, cozy blanket and stay there for the duration of the cold months.  While the rest of us try to stay as warm as we can, the "smart" ones snooze soundly or at least keep movements to a minimum.  Personally, I get "cabin fever" and have to get outside no matter the weather.  Ice covered grounds cannot be more treacherous than hurricanes and I have ventured out in them both.

  This morning while we were out cutting firewood, Son brought my attention to a whole nest of carpenter ants that had their snoozing time cut short...literally. Mark had cut a dead mimosa tree and Son and I hauled it to the back where the log splitter sat.  No axe for me this time!  In the logs that Son was splitting, an intricate maze of tunnels had been gnawed and in these tunnels, the ants had stored food.  The ants then climbed in with the first cool spell and were planning on staying for the duration of winter.  Our wood-cutting brought an abrupt halt to that plan as now the ants were exposed to the icy air of the morning.  I am sure that they were not too happy about their new circumstances but being sluggish from the cold, there was not much they could do.  After Son finished  splitting the wood and I had hauled the "clean" cuts to the woodpile, the remainder bug-infested logs sat in a pile.  It seemed a smart move not to stack those with the others.  

  About an hour after we finished work, I noticed that several birds were happily feasting upon the exposed insects.  At least something was happy to see the critters!  Hopefully, the birds will clean the logs so I won't tote any ants inside the Little Bayou House.

"Hit It With A Hammer!"

  I have always said that I have far more critter friends than I do people friends.  This is by choice as I find the critters far more amiable than most folks.  Even wild critters seem to appreciate all you do for them and are willing to just be friends without asking for a thing in return.  With the recent holiday season behind us, I find that, more than ever, folks are irritating, to say the least.  No matter how much you do for some folks, they always want more.  They take until you are just bone dry and then come back to rattle those bones.  It is times like this that I feel that I could fully do without ever seeing anyone.  That is one of the main reasons that I rarely leave the Bayou.  This is my peace.  Whenever I get a bit unnerved, I seek the solace that only the water can bring.

  There is a young man that has been visiting the Bayou since he was just a wee lad.  He spent many a days (and nights) here as a youngster and has sort of come to be an "adopted" son.   Chris is a good natured sort who is always ready to give a helping hand when needed..which is not something I can say about a lot of folks that come here.  I thought about Chris, today, and one of his bits of "advice".  Whenever something is rattling those old bones of mine, he simply advises "Hit it with a hammer!"  I have never tried it before but I have to admit that it sounded pretty enticing today.  I truly considered that smacking a few folks with that hammer might knock a bit of sense in their heads.  So, short of doing something that was totally out of character and that might just cause me to wind up in jail, I hunted for another means of "beating the tar" out of something.  

  I picked up the axe and started whacking at the pile of wood that needed splitting.  While I used to be quite adept at splitting a load of firewood without taking a breather, age is catching up with me.  As good as it felt to release a bit of stress by smacking that axe down on the logs, I did not really make that much progress.  The pile did not get a lot smaller although the stress level sure did.  After about forty minutes of swinging that axe, I only had enough firewood for the day. Only nine logs were split and I was exhausted!  The axe went back to the shed, the firewood was toted inside to the fire bin and I collapsed in the old rocking chair.  

  Yep, hitting it with a hammer is good advice.  Smacking it with an axe wears you out but it did have a good final effect.  Instead of sitting and brooding about the situation at hand, I worked it out of my system and got enough firewood to warm myself for a bit.  Thanks, Chris.  You are pretty wise for such a young man.  Tomorrow, however, will find me sore from this new exercise, I am sure!

You Do What You Have To Do

  Early morn found me on the pier as usual.  Here lately, I have had to tread carefully when walking the planks as the heavy frost makes things quite perilous.  Slipping into the icy water would not be a happy thing so I tend to slip off the shoes and go in just the socks.  Although the feet get cold, at least the socks keep me from slipping.  Once the bench is reached, the shoes are donned once again and all is well until the return trip.  This morning, the old dog, Mr. PJ, did not make the trek with me.  I figured his paws would get a mite cold so I left him inside next to the wood stove.  While on the pier, I watched as a small rail hunted for her breakfast.  She waded in the ice-cold water in search of tiny shrimp or minnows.  Watching her made me realize that I had it pretty good.  I had my coffee and breakfast inside the Little Bayou House where it was nice and cozy.  The poor little rail (like all other wild animals) have to brave the elements.  Cold, drizzly days must be miserable for them but they carry on and do what it takes to survive.

  As I sat there pondering the little rail and her search for food, I marveled at the fact that she did not seem cold.  Here I was shivering and she waded about as if nothing was different than a few days ago when it was warm.  What keeps that little one's feet and legs from freezing?  Well, it seems that it has something to do with the placement of the veins and arteries in their extremities.  These lie next to each other so the veins carrying the chilled blood back to the body picks up heat from the arteries that are carrying warm blood from the heart.  It sort of evens things a bit.  Waterfowl also have the ability to constrict the veins in their legs and feet so that the blood flow is restricted.  This reduces the heat loss a good bit.  Weird but true.  My feet being dry were probably a lot colder than the rail's as she stood in the water.

  Cold feet?  Yep, off came the shoes and I ever so carefully made my way back up the frosty boards.  Then...shoes back on...mad dash to the house...feet propped up next to the old stove to warm.  Another cup of coffee and I had to head back outside to cut a load of firewood.  I guess I am a lot like that little bird...you do what you have to do.

Earning His Keep!

  Ms. Ez was the Bayou Dog.  She was a mere five weeks old when she came to live at the Little Bayou House so it was no effort for her to learn the ropes.  She picked up on how we did things around here and followed the rules to a T.  She was well behaved, mannerly and helpful.  I miss her and have always said that it would be a long time before I was ready for another dog.  Then, along came PJ.  My son and daughter-in-law needed a place for their beloved pet while they are on a faraway island for a few years.  The old dog could not go with them and it was heartbreaking for the whole family...PJ included.  So, what could I do but open my door and say "Here, Boy!"? Mr. PJ became a part of our family for the next few years.

  I have known Mr. PJ for a number of years and have always muttered that he is NOT a Bayou Dog.  He was not raised here so was not accustomed to living in such a remote and wild place.  He had to be watched most of the time for his own safety.  I figured he was pretty much a pampered pet.  His adjustment to living our life style was going to be a tough one but...he and I would give it a go.  Several things had to change.  One..the leash had to go.  It has been hanging on a nail in the laundry room since day three of his stay.  Keeping the dog on a leash is a perfect idea when he is anywhere else but, here, it is not necessary.  Next....the collar had to go.  Since the old dog never leaves my side, the collar did not serve much purpose other than to keep me awake at night.  Since he sleeps next to my bed, the jingle jangle of the dog tags was more than I could handle.  (If we go anywhere away from the Bayou, the collar will be returned to his neck.)  Three...Mr. PJ would have to "earn his keep".  Ms. Ez performed all sorts of useful tasks such as bringing tools to us or guarding the fruit trees and garden from marauding critters.  She knew which critters to chase and which were helpful.  Mr. PJ thinks all critters are friends so that chore is out the window and he has not mastered the names of tools as of yet.  

  Just when I thought that old adage about not being able to teach old dogs new tricks was truthful, PJ has taught himself a perfectly helpful task.  While out hauling logs to the saw to be cut into firewood, I turned to find Mr. PJ chipping in with the labor.  He watched me for several minutes before grabbing a log and dragging it to the pile.  There, he deposited the log and went to fetch another.  Granted these were only small (in diameter) logs but they were a good six or seven feet in length!  Four times, he repeated the chore before flopping down to watch me cut.  I was amazed!  Mr. PJ was helping!  

  The task that PJ learned was one that Ezzy never did.  She might have picked up a twig or two but never a log!  I could not help but give Mr. PJ an extra treat when we finished our wood gathering for the day.  Then a fire was built in the old wood stove and his bed was pulled up close so he could enjoy the warmth after his hard day at work. The old dog deserves every bit of attention I have to offer.  His actions, today, proved to me that he appreciates being here and is willing to fit right in with us.  I never thought that I would learn to love another dog after Ms. Ez but this old fellow sure is weaseling his way into my heart!  Every day, I find another reason to adore him.  He has now found the best way ever to "earn his keep"!

Its pretty.....but....

  The fact that Ben Franklin was noted for his brilliance has little impact on me here on the Bayou.  His blunder in landscaping does have a huge impact on the place.  Legend has it that he imported the Tallow Tree from China.  That Tallow Tree that is overrunning the place is supposedly descendents of his trees.  Maybe?  Maybe not.  Who knows?  That tree however is extremely invasive and will take over a place in a heartbeat.  Local horticulturalist have asked people to report if they see a tree and they will come to remove it.  The peels of laughter you hear at this point are me responding to the ridiculousness of their request.  There is no way that they are going to ever remove all of the "Popcorn Trees" that are growing in the woods surrounding the creek that runs behind the Bayou. The place is literally dotted with the trees and little else at this point.  

  When Hurricane Katrina smacked us head-on, she took out nigh on every tree in the creek area. We counted over two hundred large trees felled by the storm.  These trees had taken decades to grow and were wiped out in less than twenty-four hours.  About sixteen hours of the relentless winds and waves pounding us ravaged the land.  With that many trees down in an inaccessible area, there was little hope that the creek bed would ever be the same.  While some hardwoods and pines are trying to make a comeback, it is the quick-growing Tallow Tree that has pushed out all others.  Granted, the trees are not bad looking but since they beget bazillions of little Tallow Trees each year, things are getting pretty bad.  Still, those folks who wish to "remove" these trees are facing a dauntless task and will never succeed.  My property would have to be clear cut....something that I refuse to have done.  An invasive tree seems to be better than no trees at the moment.

  Down by the pier, there is a single Popcorn Tree that has sprung up and grown to quite some size.  It is actually out in the marsh a bit and cannot be reached by shore.  The tree is laden with the "popcorn" or seeds. (The seeds are what give the tree its common name.)  Probably by next spring, I will find thousands of baby Tallow Trees springing up all over the place.  Not good.  Not surprisingly,  there are some herbalists that make fantastic claims about the tree.  The medicinal claim attached to the Chinese Tallow Tree is that the leaves (when processed and made into a balm) can be useful in curing shingles.  Can't say (thankfully) that I have had to experiment with this yet and, hopefully, never will.  However, I am pondering just what use these trees will provide for us.  Firewood..maybe?

Leave Me Alone! I Am Hiding!

  Late this afternoon, my hike found me gathering twigs to light a fire when I headed back to the Little Bayou House.  Even though the weather is still more springlike than winter, a small, crackling fire in the old woodburning stove sure feels good.  Picking up the small branches would occasionally uncover a critter that had taken refuge beneath the bark.  One particularly rotten branch exposed a rather lengthy centipede. The critter must have been basking in the warm sunshine because it was able to scoot rather speedily around in the soft sand.  Once the critter realized that it was fully in the open, it panicked.  "I need to hide!"  So, instead of searching for a leaf or cluster of dead grass, the centipede stuck its head and about half its body down into the soft sand.  "You can't see me! Now, go away!", I imagined the bug saying.

  The antics of the centipede reminded me of the old cliche "An ostrich with its head stuck in the sand" in referring to someone that denies the existence of a problem in hopes that it will just go away.  By the way, just for clarification, OSTRICHES DO NOT BURY THEIR HEADS IN SAND! Ostriches are much smarter than that as they realize that sticking their heads under sand may (and most likely would) lead to asphyxiation.  Birds are not that dumb!  However, it is obvious that either the centipede had a tunnel already dug so its breathing was not a problem or that critter is THAT stupid.  I am leaning toward the thought that a tunnel was the answer.

  Out of curiosity, I reached down at touched the little critter.  Immediately, the centipede wigggled its way completely under the sand.  Good move, little critter!  I eased the piece of bark back into place over the bug.  There was no need to disturb its cozy nest any longer.  It was a case of "live and let live".  I did not need that piece of wood badly enough that a critter could not have warmth as well.  There were plenty of other sticks in the area.  

Put on a Sweater!

  It is cold.  Not that I am complaining because next to a good storm, I like the cold weather.  Still, I am a girl from the Deep South and I feel the cold.  I shiver and shake with the best of them.  My nose turns red, my toes freeze and I pile on layers of clothing.  I have no problem with this at all.  For that matter, even some folks from up in the Far North have told me that they find it cold on the Bayou.  It seems that the humidity plays a part in this and since we are sitting at about an eighty percentile relative humidity, perhaps it does feel colder than the just about freezing temps that were our high for the day.  Tonight, the lows will take a plunge to well below that mark sinking almost to the teens.  Yep, the Bayou is cold.  Wet and cold is the rule for the weekend.

  While I like the cold, I also like a good fire going in the old woodburning stoves.  Both have been chugging along steadily throughout the day and will do the same overnight.  This is our source of heat...our only heat save a couple of electric spaceheaters.  That said, you can imagine what our day saw us doing.  Mark cut several trees that were either riddled with woodborers or were storm damaged.  Once cut, the wood was hauled to the house, a good bit was split and then stacked.  My woodbins are filled for the evening's burning.  Hopefully, the Little Bayou House will stay relatively warm...at least, warm by our standards. Others complain incessantly about being cold when here.  "Put on a sweater!" I direct them.  "I have on a sweater!" is often the reply.  "Put on a coat!" is my next directive.  Or...if you are still complaining, go home. Sorry, there is not a lot I can do about the lack of heat which causes some folks' complaints.  I have no problem with the house temperature sitting at sixty degrees.  I fully appreciate having a home, a woodburning stove and living in the Deep South where cold spells are a novelty and not the norm.  Don't like it?  Put on a sweater!  Or go home.  I am good with it either way.

Taking it in my own hands!

  Word is around here that a cold spell will be hitting us tomorrow night. This is supposed to drop our temperature to near twenty degrees.  That is cold enough for me but add in that wind chill and it will be far less. We are to experience twenty to twenty-five mph winds.  That should drop our temperatures down into single digits.  Some folks would laugh at my saying this is cold but for this Southern gal, it is COLD!  I do, indeed, like winter and I am far from complaining but, still, I figure that I needed to do a bit of preparing for this bit of icy air.

  With Mark on the road and Michael ill with an earache, I took it upon myself to cut some firewood. My brother-in-law and sister had cut some small trees from their property a few weeks back and they were kind enough to drop a load of the wood here since they do not have a fireplace.  The wood, however, was in far too long of lengths for our little wood stoves so a bit of cutting was in order.  No problem!  Son did feel well enough to set up the saw for me but could not tolerate the noise.  My work was a bit unconventional but quite successful.  I used Mark's electric chop saw!  It worked delightfully well and was far easier than using the chainsaw for pieces already cut in two to three feet lengths.  It did not take me long to have the wood bins filled and enough left to fill the wheelbarrow as extra.  Tomorrow, I will find any that needs splitting and give that a whack!  (hehehe...notice the pun?  Clever!)  

  None of this is new to me.  I am no stranger to using saws and axes.  I grew up working with these tools so have the experience.   It has just been a few years since the need has arisen.  Mark and Michael usually keep us well stocked with firewood and kindling.  It just happened that neither were able to meet the need at the moment and weather refuses to wait until convenient times.  So...chop away saw!  I am ready and able!  The wood is now cut and stacked and the Little Bayou House shall stay warm during this bout of frigid weather.

Working hard or hardly working?

Well, Old Man Winter is about to pop us all with another round of chilly (to say the least) weather.  Today was the last warmish day we will see for a while.  Not that I am complaining as our winters are nothing like those faced by our neighbors to the north.  Here, we will be near or just below freezing.  Not bad when you consider the rest of the nation.  Still, this called for a bit of preparation. The houseplants had to be hauled inside and the garden needed covering. The old wood stoves need firewood if they are to do their job so gathering firewood was high on the agenda.  Last week, I noticed that our big old mimosa tree had seen better days.  The largest portion of it had died and was dangerously close to falling on the stack of lumber.  Mark used his chainsaw to trim out the dead wood.  This would be split by Michael and added to the woodpile.  I am not above burning any type wood if necessary.  I figure that it is better to make use of something rather than waste it and that applies to dead trees as well.   My day was spent indoors as I was feeling a bit "under the weather".  Every now and again, I would peek out the window at the progress of the ongoing chore.  Even being ill, I felt that I should be out helping.  Usually, my job is hauling the split wood and stacking it on the wood rack.  I do not mind.  At least it is something to do outdoors.  

Once when I was watching the guys, I noticed a small ant crawling on the window ledge.  This was a brave little guy!  I wondered if he knew about the cold spell that was headed our way.  He needed to be far underground.  That little ant made me wish that I was as strong as him.  How easy would it be to fill that wood rack if I had his strength!  Earlier in the year, I watched as some ants carried chunks of stuff from our compost to their nest underground.  They hoisted huge pieces of food high above their heads and made the trek of about thirty feet to the hole.  Then the food was carried through tunnels until it was safely tucked away in some storage cell.  It is a well known fact that the little guys are strong and can carry many times their weight.  My carrying a few pieces of firewood pales in comparison to the load that an ant can carry. I do so wish I had the strength of an ant!  Or, maybe, I should train them to carry the firewood!  Nah....I am not on that good of terms with any of the ants on the hillside!

Good things come in small packages!

With the onset of this wintry-like weather, my son, Michael, and I are busy every day stocking up the wood bins.  Not only do the bins inside the house need refilling several times a day but the wood rack outside becomes depleted rather quickly.  Regardless of the chill, rain or wind in the air, this is a must-do chore.  Probably if we were not so picky about how we get the firewood, this would not be a daily task.  He and I refuse to cut just "any" tree.  If the thing is not dead or diseased, we refuse to cut it.  We found a fallen hickory tree last month that needed to be used so while Mark was home, the chainsaw was brought into action.  He cut the thing into lengths to fit the stoves so now we just have to split it when we need hard wood.  Still, I need smaller limbs to stoke the fire.  Without kindling from fat knots or twigs found in the yard, those hickory chunks do not want to burn.  The two of us set out today to do a bit of trimming on the trees in the yard.  During summer, we found numerous trees that had limbs draping down low to the ground.  These made it difficult to use the lawnmowers without getting smacked in the head!  Those had to be trimmed along with saplings that came up at the base of some of the larger trees.  The only tools needed were a hatchet, snips and pruning saw.  This was my kind of cutting!  I enjoy trimming up things in the yard.  It makes that spring cleanup a lot easier!

After about two hours of cutting, we loaded our "wood" into the wheelbarrow and headed back up the hillside.  Two barrows full of tiny wood was added to the wood rack and a third was parked by the front door.  Here it would be easy to retrieve during the evening hours.

I like the tiny twigs.  Contrary to most folk's idea, these things can really put out the heat!  Since I do not have a regular fireplace in use, the twigs are perfect.  The woodstoves both can be chocked full of the twigs to produce a hot fire.  Once these burn down and become coals, the stoves each maintain the heat for some time.  A well-timed chunk of hickory can burn for hours!  I love to see the stove get full of those red-hot embers!  Yep, bring on the cold!  We are ready with our twiggy firewood!

The Woodpile

The nights are getting chillier so the woodstoves are becoming a necessity again.  Mark and Michael replaced the stove-piping that serves as a chimney on the big stove in the living room so it is ready to go.  I built my first fire of the season last night and it felt mighty nice!  The little parlor stove in the dining room will most likely be lit this coming week as another cold front is predicted to move in on the Bayou. The Little Bayou House has no heat other than these two woodstoves so it is quite mandatory that we keep the woodpile well stocked.

Several weeks ago, my brother-in-law and sister needed to cut a lot of small trees from their place and I was fortunate enough to get two truckloads of this wood.  Since my brother-in-law had no idea what size I needed, he cut most of them a tad long for our stoves (ok..a LOT too long!).  This is not a problem, though and I was just extremely happy to see that truck drive up the lane!  This week, Michael and I sorted and stacked the wood.  Large pieces were tossed aside and he will split them before adding them to the stack. He does this the old-fashioned way!  Even though we have a hydraulic woodsplitter, Michael loves to use the axe!  He will split wood for hours on end!   Great Uncle Alfred once told him that getting firewood warms you twice..once while splitting it and then again when sitting in front of the fireplace!  So now, Michael always reminds me of this when he heads out with his axe in hand! While Michael was stacking the wood, Mark cranked up the chainsaw and cut some of the long pieces into ten inch lengths.  This is all my stoves can hold but as small as these chunks are, they warm the place nicely!  A handful of these small logs will last for several hours! So far, we have two woodpiles that are quite large but there is still a goodly amount to be stacked.  I suppose we will be working for most of this next week..cutting, splitting and stacking until there is enough to last the winter.

 I was thinking about how warm our little woodstoves keep the house and how I love it each time I build a fire.  Not only does it keep us warm but the smell of the wood burning gives the place a nice homey feel.  The old woodburner in the living room usually has a pot of stew on top and some sweet potatoes in the Dutch oven!  Life just doesn't get much better! It seems that Old Man Winter is visiting a tad early this year but from the looks of things we will stay warm. Bring on the cold..the woodpile is growing by leaps and bounds!