*sob* This woodshed has .... *whimper* EATEN my cute little boiler house!
OH THE HUMANITY!!!
Er. Just kidding. Isn't it great? Time to teach the boy how to chop wood now, I guess. BOY! HEY BOY!
Oh. I see you're still busy pulling nails from those boards. Well, hurry up. Daddy says he's repurposing those boards into pallets ... for you to stack firewood on. On which you'll stack firewood. Yeah, that.
Hymns are balm to my soul. Poetry and music joined. With my hither and thither travels this summer, I have missed more church than attended, and was feeling the ill effects. Songs of restoring Truth go a long way toward filling me back up. Including one from this morning, one verse of which I repeat here:
Come thou fount of every blessing
O to Grace how great a debtor
Daily I'm constrained to be!
Let thy goodness, like a fetter,
Bind my wandering heart to thee;
Prone to wander, Lord, I feel it,
Prone to leave the God I love;
Here's my heart, O take and seal it;
Seal it for Thy courts above.
Words: Robert Robinson, 1758 Music: John Wyeth, 1813
Our friends Matt & Liz from our old life in Merry-land visited us this weekend. *sigh* We love them. Anyway, it was a short visit, but we managed to force a trip up to see the log house, as we do with anyone we can wrestle into it.
We showed them the gassification wood boiler
I made Bob pose for a picture with them by the southeast corner of the house:
They discussed chimneys and spiders and such:
And then The Hubs geeked out on them wood-wise and showed Matt how to use the sawmill:
Here Matt tries his hand (it actually takes closer to 4 minutes to mill one board, not including positioning, but I truncated it a bit ...zzzzzz...):
I've known it for years, but Matt and Liz now think of Bob like this, apparently:
