Wood-in Weather

My mom and dad used to say "It's wood-in weather!" when it was time to put some firewood in the little wood ring doohickey by the fireplace. This was back in the suburbs and before they were both broken-down drooling buffoons.

Anyway, we were running out of wood over at Kelley's House of NFL Hijinx, so for an Xmas bonus, Kyle and I stopped and got wood that he had espied from the highway!

We rapped on the door and a nice older lady rousted her grumpy, cold-having husband into action. "Fifty cents a piece, or a [front loader] bucket for 45 dollars..."

After the bucket was dumped, Angry McWoodsman seethed as an aging hip-hop originata and a dork from Stuff White People Like wussily protested that there weren't actually ninety pieces in the truck bed. "Take fifteen more pieces then," came the phlegmy grunt. Which we did!

And, on unloading, we had 89 pieces total. So we are going to go back and get our fifty cents! Or there will be a BARBECUE ON LINDEN AVENUE!

The load-in view from the basement: