‘Hi John,” I bellowed into my phone (for some reason, I always bellow on the phone). “How are you?”
“Hello Greg. I actually didn’t mean to ring you.”
This was John from up the way, a top bloke, a friendly neighbour and the unofficial King of the Road. It was good to hear his voice; we wave to each other a fair bit when we see each other out and about, but we usually have a good chat only once a year when he delivers the approximately 30 million tonnes of firewood I buy from him every spring.
John is a decade and a bit older than me and has been a farmer all his life. So he knows a thing or two about a thing or two. Still, he’s always gracious enough to let me prattle on about this, that and the other. The other usually being something to do with the weather.
“Oh, well,” I prattled. “At least it wasn’t a bum dial where you end up listening to the other person’s phone moving about in their pocket for 20 minutes. Ha ha ha. What about this weather, eh? Just the right mix of sun and rain this summer. Been great for the paddocks and garden.”
John, who as I say has been a farmer all his life, was generous enough to give this rank amateur summation his approval.
“Yes, it’s been pretty good,” he allowed. “No complaints, no complaints.”
“A farmer with no complaints,” I prattled, “you don’t often get that!”
“Now careful, Greg,” he said sternly. “Careful.”
I took John’s advice, as I usually do, and carefully changed the subject to much safer ground.
“Great wood you delivered this year. Thanks again. With all the 25°C-plus days this past month, it’s seasoning really well. I have been checking it with my moisture gauge and it’s ready, I reckon. I think I will put it in the woodshed this week.”
John allowed that his firewood, which he cuts and splits himself from an enormous log pile in his stock yard, was of a high quality and that the hot sun would have seasoned it well. But he had some advice. “Don’t bring it all in at once. Take the wood off the top, but let the wood underneath get more sun.”
This had never occurred to me before. Despite having seven years of firewood-seasoning experience – thus making me a journeyman on the road to a black belt in firewood – it never occurred to me to bring in the wood this way.
In the past, once I’ve deemed the wood ready for stacking, I’ve tried to bring it in as quickly as I can, mainly to get this 2- 3-day job over and done with so I can get back to avoiding paid work by having a nice lie down.
But John was right. Taking my time would let the wood underneath get more sun and ensure that it was as beautifully seasoned as the stuff on top all summer. It was obvious, really, but for some reason it had never been obvious to me.
“That’s great advice,” I told him. John allowed that it was, wished me well and rang off.
The first best woodshed is now half full. Over a couple of mornings a fortnight after talking to John, I used the ride-on and its little trailer to get the most seasoned pine and macrocarpa in. The rest, and there’s a lot more to bring in, would get its extra sun.
Only, of course, the weather has had other ideas. Almost as soon as the calendar turned to March, autumn arrived with some rain and cooler temperatures to match.
The seasoning of the rest of the wood is now a matter of uncovering it when the sun has his hat on and covering it again when he gets out his raincoat. This is a right pain, mind you, and it will mean getting the sheds filled quite a bit later, but with better-seasoned wood.
An old dog has just taught another old dog new tricks.
