Stihl sawing

Today has been glorious, not just weather wise but in terms of job satisfaction. The three ash trees felled last Saturday need to be sawn up into blocks and then chopped and stacked. A massive job but someones got to do it. Step forward yours truly, slightly hung over from last nights celebrations but otherwise raring to go. The trunks and branches looked on smugly as stepped out into the fresh autumn morning, they were confident that my MacCat chainsaw would be no match for their twisted branches and two foot diameter trunks. They were sure they would still be intact by next spring.

They got one thing correct, my chainsaw is about as helpful at sawing wood as an Iranian nuclear scientist is to non proliferation treaties. In fact the only redeeming feature of the brute is that is bright yellow and so very difficult to lose, and believe me I have tried! Even with a brand new chain its borderline useless.

Thankfully a friend at work had lent me a secret weapon, a Stihl, packed in a black holdall its presence was undetected by the trees until it was too late. I unzipped the bag, inside it was Stihl, a chainsaw, which incidentally reminded me I had a bottle of still water, I have kept it years, it's still water. Que comedy symbol sound effect. Anyway this machine went to work with a fury, I have to say that I was impressed. After seven hours, a gallon of two stroke and two litres of chain oil the majority of the trees are now neatly sawn blocks. I am so far ahead of myself that where I thought I would be by tomorrow in the job I reached today by four pm, which was when the petrol supply ran out and I favoured sitting in the warm sunshine drinking pop more than driving into town to resupply.

I cant wait to wield my mighty chopper in the yard and reduce the blocks to firewood.

I realised last night that is was two years since my accident where I almost did enough damage to lose my left arm. No one sent a card, no presents, no balloons, everyone including me had forgotten.

Ben phoned today, he had had an exciting birthday getting shot at but later on in the day his colleagues gave him a standard issue British Army cake with a candle on it. Not quite as good as a mixed grill at the Oxford Arms but we cant all be lucky.