Flies in November?

On Monday I set out to finish the last of my clearing of trees for the solar panels. I’m really hoping that in spite of a month to go before the Winter Solstice, the sun won’t go a huge amount lower. Besides that, I have cut all the trees I’m really prepared to remove (famous last words?). I have still favoured leaving the Jack Pine wherever possible, selecting spruce and especially balsam as they aren’t quite as useful to me for lumber. It was really nice to once again have my assistants march out into the field to bravely stack the pieces cut into stove lengths.

Next we took a walk to see the latest trail Grandpa had blazed to the back hundred acre wood. I really think we’re on to something now – it is a slope that I’m pretty sure the tractor can manage, and at the moment, we see that it may actually be following an old, grown in logging road from the very early days of the patent. It was difficult to recognize in spots, but every once in awhile, it suddenly opens up as if it were a genuine path!

We walked back to some logs I had cut a month ago to check the slope of the trail there (knowing the tractor had already mastered it many times), and Donna was impressed with the size of the trees we had cut. I decided to take the time to count the rings on one of the larger trees. It was at a minimum, 138 years old. What a humbling experience and thought!

On our way back, I was very much bemused to see a marshmallow that had escaped from Kenny’s snack bag had amazingly attracted some freeloaders – there are still flies out in November? What sort of country is this?

Ahhh, who needs a chiropractor when they can lay on a pile of logs and get forehead kisses?

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