Tuesday, Feb. 18

We arrive home yesterday afternoon, driving through fairly heavy snowfall, and Loverboy suggests I go with him over to the other yard and get some of the wood we hauled in last Sunday.

He wields the chainsaw, I load the blocks of wood into an orange plastic sled and pull it behind me, by a string, back to our place.

As I’m walking down the driveway between the two yards, huffing a little because the wood is heavy, I think about how I prefer this to where I was last year, living in a little town in Alberta, with nothing to do outside but go for a walk among the people and the houses. This is a vast improvement in lifestyle, for which I am most grateful to the powers that be.
Here is Grizzly Pa coming alongside his old farmtruck, last Sunday when the three of us went on a woodhaul for about two hours.

This is Loverboy and his dad pulling down a tree Loverboy felled and which consequently got caught in some other trees.

We were just a few miles from here, in back of another farmer’s yard. He came over and introduced himself to me, because he knows my dad. It is good to be home.