Minnewaska Musings

By Paul Gremmels

It is difficult to think about winter in the month of June. But, I’ve been burning wood to help heat the homes I’ve lived in since I was a kid. Over forty years of cutting, splitting, stacking and burning wood. And if you burn wood, you have to think about it year round, especially in summer.

   The last time I was stacking wood in our woodshed it was an eighty degree spring day. I will admit that on that day, I paused for a minute to Google, “gas fireplaces.” I felt guilty doing so. As if even thinking about not burning wood anymore was a sort of slight against a sacred institution. I guess if you do something long enough, it becomes a part of you, even without you knowing that it has. When I run into fellow wood burners, there is a sort of immediate bond, regardless of any other differences. We can start in on a lengthy discussion regarding wood, cutting and splitting tools as well as detailed analogies of stoves, inserts and fireplaces. We nod our heads in agreement that nothing is comparable to wood heat and shake our heads in disappointment as we retell tails of near death mistakes while cutting.

   For many years, my wife and I split wood by hand, without the aide of a gas powered, hydraulic wood splitter. We used an axe, splitting maul and various wedges pounded in with a sledge hammer. The laborious task became a labor of love. An outlet for stress. A workout that was pure and satisfying. The focal point of this wood-making was a large, oak stump, cut free from its base and positioned next to the mountainous wood pile. How many pieces of wood were split on that stump, I cannot even wager a guess. Since purchasing a hydraulic wood splitter many years ago, the stump was relegated next to a corner post of the garden. Our wood shed holds ten cords and it takes on average, seven cords to heat our house for the winter. This is important, because wood is constantly rotated by type, age and dryness. In a properly organized woodshed, the wood will be mixed appropriately so that you don’t run into a lot of cool burning elm during a January cold snap, when what you need is some hot burning oak. Digging for wood in a pile, during sub-zero weather is one of the most miserable chores on earth.

   Henry David Thoreau once said that “Every man looks upon his wood pile with a sort of affection.”  I think old HDT was kind of understating here. Besides the statement being a little dated due to its sexism, (my wife does a fair share of the wood work) those that cut and burn wood, would be hard pressed to find a better word than “love” of a nicely stacked woodpile or a full woodshed.

   

The old oak splitting stump still rests next to the corner post of our garden fence. Its perfectly flat top scarred by countless axe blows. On it, appropriately sits a stone engraved with an epitaph for my late mother.

“If your love alone would have spared you,

You would have lived forever.”