Humoring Gramaw
The Kids Next Door

Sawing Logs

Tree-6

No, this is not a post about Kim's snoring.

Although there are times when he could win a competition with a chainsaw.

(Actually, he rarely snores any more...we discovered a nearly miraculous device that's helped tremendously, but that's another post for another day...)........

 

Tree-1

Back in August, Kim hired a tree service to cut down 7 dead or dying trees on the Gray compound.

 

Tree-2

One pecan tree...

 

Tree-3

...and the rest of them big old pines, in the 75-year-old range.

 

Tree-4

Made quite a mess!  And Kim's hours of clean-up has created quite a massive burn pile just waiting for our fire-obsessed grandson Abram to come help him burn it.

 

Log-6

But he kept the big logs and decided to have them sawed into boards.

Lumber which I doubt we will ever use, but that's another point, yet another that fell on deaf ears...

 

Log-1

And so Kim somehow found a man we'll call Mark (because that's his name...) with a portable sawmill to come slice up our trees.

 

Log-2

Mark brought his equipment and set up a sawmill in our back lot for a few days.

 

Log-7

Mark sawed...

 

Log-3

...and Kim carried.

Let me tell you, he slept very well that week.  He was one tired puppy each night.  That's hard work!

 

Log-5

As you can see, the boards are not like those you'd buy at Lowes or Menards.  They aren't perfectly squared up...we wanted him to leave the bark and the wonky sides.

I like wonky.

And if you've ever been in our cabin, you'll see we've got several pieces of wonky furniture made out of boards like these.

I like wonky.

So now we've got a huge stack of wonky boards drying and curing for some unknown and unforeseen future projects.

 

Log-8

And something else I like?

The amazing smell of freshly-cut wood!  I have been known to stop in Menards and just browse through the lumber section, just to fill my nose with that delicious aroma.

I admit to being a little weird wonky myself sometimes...

But I think it's in my blood.  My Grandpa Britt was a sawmill man by trade, running sawmills across North Carolina his whole life. I have fond memories of the few times as a little girl that I got to watch him doing his sawyer thing.  And I am grateful to have a short film clip of Grandpa Britt working, which I am putting at the very end of this post since I discovered that videos in blog posts can make the spacing wonky.

(I like wonky.  Just not in my blog posts...)

I am the 5-year-old blond girl at the end of the clip, hanging around with my 5-year-old uncle Jeff and Dad holding my baby sister Maria. All of us watching Grandpa.

Sawing logs.

 

 

Comments

Terri Chapman

Very cool - so neat you got to save the wood from that large old pine on your property. I am sure someday there will be a beautiful piece of furniture made to have stories told for many years. :)

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