About half of yesterday’s snow had melted by nightfall. Today’s sunshine and 60°F temps all but finished it off. That’ll leave the ground soggy, but mud is a given in Ozarkansas this time of year, and we’d be foolish to complain now about precipitation we’ll be grateful for later.
Before things got too terribly sloppy this morning, I wanted to do something constructive. I had in mind a low-effort task that the remaining snow wouldn’t interfere with. I fetched the electric chainsaw and toted it to the spot where we’ll build another, more secluded fire pit.
When we first developed that clearing we took down a handful of small trees, the trunks of which I cut to six or eight feet long and set aside. My objective today was to buck that wood and stack it.
First, I chose two cedar poles to serve as runners. Then I bucked the rest of the wood, most of it oak. It didn’t amount to much.
Looking around, I spotted two “leaners” and a couple of manageable “standing dead” trees just off the clearing. I dropped and bucked those, which made the morning’s modest harvest more respectable.
All of it got stacked on the runners, hardwood at one end and cedar at the other. Damp as it is, I’ll wait a week or two before tarping it.
What I racked today arguably is junk wood, unfit for the woodstove but absolutely perfect for a fire pit. I’ll add to the stack as I discover more standing dead within reach of the clearing.
It’s a start.
Better than that, I got up early and spent time in the winter woods. I broke a sweat. I accomplished something.
The song “Don’t Let The Old Man In” began getting lots of attention after Toby Keith performed it during an awards show in September, attracting even more since his death last week. The inspiration for the lyrics, in case you haven’t heard, was a conversation between Keith and Clint Eastwood, in which the latter shared his secret to living and working well into his 90s.
That philosophy, crystallized in the song title, has been ricocheting around the Internet of late. I suppose that’s to be expected, considering. Just as predictable is how widely misunderstood it is.
The most common interpretation of “Don’t let the old man in” seems to be, “Whatever you do, don’t call yourself ‘old.'” While I’m willing to admit that our words have a certain power, confronting the reality of aging simply by not invoking The O-Word won’t make you any younger or more youthful.
It’ll make you a Pollyanna. It might make you a liar. And if you’re okay with delusions, have at it.
We truly have no choice but to embrace the gift of aging. Even “the old man” does that, but his advancing years only herald the end of his life. The old man waits to die.
If you’re looking for a contemporary parallel to “Don’t let the old man in,” you’ll find it in the oft-quoted line from The Shawshank Redemption:
“Get busy livin’, or get busy dyin’.”
The operative word there, by the way, is “busy.”
Prefer something more classical? Fine — return with me to the 17th Century and Sir Isaac Newton. Summarized:
An object at rest tends to remain at rest. An object in motion tends to remain in motion.
See where I’m goin’ here? “The old man” is an object at rest. When we let him in, we get busy dyin’.
It has nothing to do with superficial wordplay. It’s about what we do with our time, not what we call ourselves.
Aging is real. The years exact a price. And “old” is anything but a dirty word. Approaching one’s closing act with an attitude of optimism and gratitude helps. The real secret, however, is breathtakingly simple.
Keep moving.
That’s why I do what I do. I get up every day and aim to accomplish something. And, as you might suspect, this blog is part of it.
Stay in motion, my friends. Whatever your age, get busy livin’.
Take care of yourselves, Patriots. Stay calm. Stay sharp. Stay free.
#WiseUp #LibertyOrDeath #Ungovernable
#LetsGoBrandon #FJB