COLLECTING WOOD - part 1
September 7th 2006 01:05
Many homes in the country, especially those on farms are heated by a wood fire. The reason wood fires are so popular is that all farmers are of the opinion: “Why waste good money on fossil fuels when there is a whole paddock of good wood out there to collect.” Inevitably, the family will be seconded to help get a ute load of “sticks”. No one likes picking sticks – except city relatives who think there is something romantic about the fresh air and getting their hands dirty.
It is completely at the whim of the farmer as to where he will take the family to get this wood. If he is in a good mood or wants to get home to watch the footy there will be some reasonably neat piles of wood that have already been raked up and located in the shelter of a remnant bush pocket. If this is the case it is just a matter of picking and choosing what is suitable for the fire box.
However, more than likely, the family will be unwittingly put into serving another purpose - ending up in that particular paddock that the farmer is planning to plant a crop in the coming season. Therefore, they will find themselves “stick picking”.
These words bring a shudder to any person who has known anything about establishing a farm. They will remember the many hours of picking up anything over the size of a standard ruler before any machinery could enter the area. Even after years of cropping, there will still be some new sticks or roots that come to the surface big enough to cause hundreds of dollars worth of damage if they end up in the works of the latest air seeder. Pretending to be a pioneer clearing the virgin bush or, if that is too much of a stretch, at least taking some comfort in the notion that the activity is useful and saving the business a huge amount of money may keep people going for a couple of arms full of wood. Beyond that there is no joy in the work, especially when the wind blows straight through the body or a few splinters embed themselves in the fingers or nails.
But what is a “stick”? The burly farmer will be seen lugging half a tree across the paddock and using all his he-man strength to put it on the ute’s tray. One can never be sure if this is just showing off or if he just wants to get out of there in a hurry. The only trouble with these logs is that they lie at the bottom of the wood heap for anything up to three years because they won’t fit in the fireplace. It’s only when there are at least three dozen of the wretched things that the suggestion can be made that a chainsaw is warranted to deal with the problem.
Those who usually have to get the house warm (the women) are more inclined to leave the big logs and gather lots of little sticks so that they can light the fire in the first place. This rather defeats the purpose of clearing the paddock but wasn’t the original idea to get wood for the home fires? Besides someone has to have a clearer picture of the actual size of the fire box and the practicalities of what happens when only one log can fit in there – namely lots of smoke but no fire.
If the kids are home they are usually duty-bound to come too. For farm kids this is not a novel experience so the activity is accompanied by many complaints along the line of “Why don’t we have a gas hot water system like all our friends?” However such suggestions will fall on deaf ears and after such replies as “hot water doesn’t grow on trees!” (wait for the smart comments!) the “poor little vegemites” will relent when they realize it’s this or cold showers for the rest of the week. Particular care needs to be taken if one of them has dreams of being another Glen McGrath or Luke Longley and uses this exercise to practice cricket styled bowling or basketball skills. Throwing a piece of wood in the general direction of the ute in the hope that there is enough precision for it to land neatly on the tray is usually an illusion. It is particularly dangerous for the family member who is quietly placing their offering of wood on the tray as the missile comes in over their head. Equally dangerous is the job of picking up sticks that missed the tray altogether, especially if the sportsperson continues practicing while that is happening. A crash helmet may be required!
Apart from those city slickers, whom should be encouraged to enjoy the fresh air on every visit to the farm, it would appear that the only beings that ever enjoy collecting wood - are the dogs. Dogs will wander around the whole paddock tail in the air and nose in the dirt for a good hour or so and provided they leave the neighbour’s sheep alone they can be in the paddock with a real sense of freedom. Riding on top of the pile of wood on the way home may be slightly uncomfortable and difficult to keep one’s footing, but they figure that at least they have spent a few hassle-free hours with their family – and what more could a dog want!
It is completely at the whim of the farmer as to where he will take the family to get this wood. If he is in a good mood or wants to get home to watch the footy there will be some reasonably neat piles of wood that have already been raked up and located in the shelter of a remnant bush pocket. If this is the case it is just a matter of picking and choosing what is suitable for the fire box.
These words bring a shudder to any person who has known anything about establishing a farm. They will remember the many hours of picking up anything over the size of a standard ruler before any machinery could enter the area. Even after years of cropping, there will still be some new sticks or roots that come to the surface big enough to cause hundreds of dollars worth of damage if they end up in the works of the latest air seeder. Pretending to be a pioneer clearing the virgin bush or, if that is too much of a stretch, at least taking some comfort in the notion that the activity is useful and saving the business a huge amount of money may keep people going for a couple of arms full of wood. Beyond that there is no joy in the work, especially when the wind blows straight through the body or a few splinters embed themselves in the fingers or nails.
Those who usually have to get the house warm (the women) are more inclined to leave the big logs and gather lots of little sticks so that they can light the fire in the first place. This rather defeats the purpose of clearing the paddock but wasn’t the original idea to get wood for the home fires? Besides someone has to have a clearer picture of the actual size of the fire box and the practicalities of what happens when only one log can fit in there – namely lots of smoke but no fire.
If the kids are home they are usually duty-bound to come too. For farm kids this is not a novel experience so the activity is accompanied by many complaints along the line of “Why don’t we have a gas hot water system like all our friends?” However such suggestions will fall on deaf ears and after such replies as “hot water doesn’t grow on trees!” (wait for the smart comments!) the “poor little vegemites” will relent when they realize it’s this or cold showers for the rest of the week. Particular care needs to be taken if one of them has dreams of being another Glen McGrath or Luke Longley and uses this exercise to practice cricket styled bowling or basketball skills. Throwing a piece of wood in the general direction of the ute in the hope that there is enough precision for it to land neatly on the tray is usually an illusion. It is particularly dangerous for the family member who is quietly placing their offering of wood on the tray as the missile comes in over their head. Equally dangerous is the job of picking up sticks that missed the tray altogether, especially if the sportsperson continues practicing while that is happening. A crash helmet may be required!
Apart from those city slickers, whom should be encouraged to enjoy the fresh air on every visit to the farm, it would appear that the only beings that ever enjoy collecting wood - are the dogs. Dogs will wander around the whole paddock tail in the air and nose in the dirt for a good hour or so and provided they leave the neighbour’s sheep alone they can be in the paddock with a real sense of freedom. Riding on top of the pile of wood on the way home may be slightly uncomfortable and difficult to keep one’s footing, but they figure that at least they have spent a few hassle-free hours with their family – and what more could a dog want!
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I knew a bloke from Kojonup, Phillip Ayers. I haven't seen him in a while now though.
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