Relieved for the second year in a row of any personal obligations related to yesterday’s date, I recalled a few other reasons for me to take note of the 14th of February.
As a kid, I was told that it’s the anniversary of my parents’ first date. It’s also the birthday (1913) of one Wayne Woodrow Hayes, known to fans of Ohio State football as “Woody.”
Most significant, I’d argue, is that on February 14th, 1911, a US patent was granted to John Moses Browning for a firearm that became, for good reason, iconic. It quickly was accepted by the US military as standard issue — the M1911.
Today we call it, simply, “The 1911.”
I hope y’all had a wonderful Woody Day/John Moses Browning Day.
As expected, Saturday was a washout. The Mountain saw soaking rain pretty much all day and into the evening hours. There were lulls and letups periodically, which is when Smudge and I took our business trips.
I do my best to make the walks interesting and fun for her. She has her “spots” of course, but I vary the circuit as much as possible.
We were out behind the shed late yesterday morning when I looked up and saw this:
Silhouetted against the gray sky were two standing but apparently lifeless trees. (They’re right in the center of that image.) There were no thin, living twigs in the upper branches, waiting to bud come spring — both were dead as could be, just the sort of thing I look for.
I made a mental note of their location and decided to come back in a day or two to investigate further. Then I changed my mind, realizing that the brief break in the weather was an opportunity I shouldn’t let pass.
A little bit, every day.
I put Smudge back in the cabin, grabbed my 20V saw and took a closer look at those standing-dead trees.
Both were oaks. Both seemed to be bark-beetle kills. The one on the left in the photo above was bigger, visibly rotting and probably had tenants. The other (below) looked more promising.
I couldn’t be sure, really, ’til I had it on the ground.
Gauging the thing’s lean was almost comical — it was on a slope to begin with, and its twists and bends made predicting its fall a crap shoot. At least it was nowhere near power lines or anything else it could hurt (except me), so I took my best guess.
I plotted and cleared an escape route, notched the trunk a few feet above the ground and made my felling cut.
It dropped against the lean, downslope, about 45° off from where I thought it’d go. You’ll have that. No harm done.
The stump, from ground level to about three feet up, was indeed hollow. The exposed ends of the limbs were punky where they’d broken off. Everything in between, however, was remarkably solid, including 11 feet of trunk.
Diameter was ten inches at the base, almost six inches at the first crotch.
Rain began falling again just as I cut the last log length. The chain needed sharpening by then anyway.
I’ll buck, split and stack it sometime in the next few days.
This is how I see the woods this time of year. This is what I do. A little bit, every day.
Take care of yourselves, Patriots. Stay calm. Stay sharp. Stay free.
#WiseUp #LibertyOrDeath #Ungovernable