Everyone Needs A Cheering Section

A friend of ours gave us a couple of pickup bed loads of firewood over the weekend. I’ve spent most every free moment since then cutting it to length and splitting it for our pot belly stove.

I like splitting firewood the old fashioned way, with a maul. There’s just something manly about swinging an eight-pound piece of steel affixed to the end of a three-foot length of hickory. Hearing the sharp crack of the red oak as it yields to the blow and knowing that it’ll provide good warmth on cold nights this winter is rewarding.

This morning, I was splitting the last of the wood. My two year old son was there to “help you.” With every swing, he’d yell “Whoa! Awesome!”

As my friend in Virginia frequently says “Every day is Father’s Day.”