Now for the somewhat overdue tale of two trees. The first of what may well become a series of gnarly log posts.
During an evening stroll with the pooch, somewhere in the deep mirk widd, I wanted to rest. I spotted a stump that looked suitable and once sitting on it could confirm that indeed, it made for a nothing short of a perfect seat. When I got up a few minutes later I was quick to decide that “Yep, I will carry it home”.
No sooner said than done, log lifted and off we were. The dog occasionally stopped to look at in disbelief, while were both panting our way home. Not long into the 2.5k venture the clunkyness of the treeslice added to it’s weight, but it made it to it’s destiny in the end.
Truth be told, so far I only sat on it to sandpaper off any mucky bits and smooth the edges.
The puzzling bit of wood: If you count the rings, you’ll dsicover two centres, and what looks (and feels) like flimsy crusts of bark in between. To me that counts as two trees.
The appearance of the standing tree might have given that pecularity away, look and feel of the circumference certainly don’t.
The only other time I remember hauling a heavy object home in the dark of night was a good ten years ago in Vienna. A plantpot fell prey to a 2am non-sober act of cleptomania. The offense was ruefully repaid later by a period of generous tipping at the the Chinese takeaway , the bush’s former home. But log relocation has started to become a thing, stay put, I know you can barely wait.