If I were in the habit of gauging my physical capacity by how I feel first thing in the morning, I’d probably go back to bed and stay there. I’d never get anything done. These days especially, the two hours after I wake up are grueling, with the potential to be monumentally discouraging.
But since it’s that way every day, I know to press through the grogginess, the stiffness and the pain. It always gets better. I’ve learned that.
It’s a matter of putting myself into motion, engaging in even the simplest tasks. Once I’m moving, things improve.
After breakfast yesterday morning, for example, I ran the vacuum. Simple. Then I removed the grates from the rangetop and cleaned the drip pan surrounding the burners. Accumulated grease spatter had been bugging me.
Putting it shiny’n’right was satisfying. Simple.
I also made a point to address the idle woodstove. The firebox had been cold for days, thanks to this spell of unseasonable warmth, making it the perfect time to scoop out the ashes before we need to fire it up again Sunday evening.
I cleaned the door glass, too. It’s all ready to go. Simple.
By the time I had Smudge out for the second time, around 8:30am, I was feeling myself again (the self I prefer, at least). We turned right from the front door and walked north along the driveway.
We were passing the outdoor firewood rack when I glanced upslope behind the cabin. What I saw stopped me in my tracks — the rising sun had just cleared the summit, and brilliant golden light was filtering through haze and trees above The Citadel.
I pulled out my phone, braced it on the frame of the wood rack and banged off two shots, including this one:
I have to tell you, of the thousands of images I’ve taken here on The Mountain, that has to be one of my favorites.
The photograph also reminds me how very fortunate I am. This is my home.
With my right knee still on the PUP list, yet itchin’ to make more progress on the firewood front, I wondered — what could I do that wouldn’t interfere (much) with the healing process?
I remembered a certain inconvenient hickory across the road and figured that’d be easy enough. I loaded what I’d need into the Ranger and headed in that direction.
See, this small tree has been in my way — sort of. Whenever I leave by the steep south driveway, I have to be careful not to smack it with the left-front corner of my truck. I hadn’t hit it yet, but it was only a matter of time before I’d be in too much of a hurry to pay attention.
And so I took it down. This…
Became this:
Good wood. Worth what little time it took.
From there I took a quick cruise down the road and back up. I looked for anything close to the edges that was standing or leaning dead, or just in the way.
I found one — a smallish elm that had snapped three feet above the ground, apparently a while ago. Dead as could be. I took (and bucked) the entire trunk and tossed it in the bed with the hickory.
It yielded almost three times the firewood the other tree had. And back at the wood yard, what I unloaded doubled the supply on my latest pallet.
I do what I can, a little bit every day. Faced with limits, I adapt — but I stay in motion. That’s how the work gets done.
Take care of yourselves, Patriots. Stay calm. Stay sharp. Stay free.
#WiseUp #LibertyOrDeath #Ungovernable
One thought on “Stunned by morning sun”
Comments are closed.