Careful with that axe, Eugene (Ummagumma)

The little bit of wood that I had left at my rental house has been cut in half and is now small enough to fit in my tiny stove, by the same kindly neighbour to whom I both sold and donated wood in the fall. Good karma – gotta love it.

Though the wood is now short enough to fit inside, the thick chunks don't burn very well in my stove. My Tiny Stove is fussy, I am learning. It is nowhere near as trouble-free as the giant air-tight wood stove I've been using for the past 3 years in my rental house.

And this means that for the first time since probably Girl Guide camp (at the age of 9), I have been using a hatchet to make the thick chunks into little sticks that burn more readily.

I am not particularly skilled with a hatchet. I have a bad shoulder and a tendency to close my eyes. My hand-eye coordination is good in general, but I find it doesn't work when my eyes are closed.

Today, at the suggestion of one of my landmates, I stepped up from the hatchet to the axe. "You can use two hands with the axe," she said "It goes faster."

I grinned sheepishly and replied, "I use two hands with the hatchet." 

But the axe really is less work. And now all of the wood I've brought up from my rental home is in little sticks. 

And my landmates only laughed at me once or twice.

And I don't hold that against them because, well, it was a hatchet job.