Wednesday, November 26, 2014

Chain “Hooker Upper”!

How can such deep-imprinted images sleep in us at times,
till a word, a sound, awake them?
                                  Gotthold Ephraim Lessing


Summers in the little town with the sandy beach as a young girl still stir wonderful memories. The images flood back as I stand in the middle of the bush with the sound of the chainsaw roaring and bouncing off the surrounding trees.


My grandfather, a hardworking man with a huge smile and calloused hands taught my brother T and me the value of hard work. Brother T would shout “My turn, my turn” fighting for the chance to be on the other end of the long gnarly teeth cross cut saw that was halfway through a sweet smelling cherry log propped up on a couple of saw horses. My grandfather was at the other end smiling and enjoying every moment of teaching us the fun part of work. Brother T always thought it was man’s work but I would have no part of that and neither would Grandpa. I did let him take the saw but soon I was shouting “My turn, my turn.”


The wood would fall to the ground then brother T or I would pick it up and pile it in the old shed behind the house. We knew in the middle of that snowy cold Ontario winter it would keep the house warm.

These days I still seem to be doing that same job of piling wood with My Hero. There is a big difference though. I am grateful for the invention of so many things, as I age. Things like chains, backhoes and chainsaws. I am no longer at the end of the saw I am now the “chain hooker-upper.” I also have titles like the “lever handler” for the wood splitter and the “driver” of the tractor dumping the load of wood in the drive shed.


I wrap the chain around the log once again and My Hero lifts it up with the backhoe bucket and drops it in the back of the dump trailer. Getting the wood closer to the house is priority this time of year, where snow can come quickly and bury it. With the dump wagon now full I head to the house to dump it in the barnyard. My Hero climbs down from the backhoe. He will use the chainsaw to cut the limb wood so we can throw it into the dump wagon when I return.


Driving back to the house I can see this image clearly in my mind. My grandfather smiling along with brother T on the other end of that long gnarly tooth saw with his goofy grin and a scab on his nose. I love that image. I smile but a lone tear runs down my cheek; sometimes that happens too. Thanks Grandpa and thanks brother T, I will never forget those days.


Later

Happy Thanksgiving to everyone in the USA. Make wonderful memories and enjoy. Hug B


26 comments:

  1. i wonder the same thing. my Pop-Pop past back in 2004 right before we got married. he was born in 1910 and would always talk about how things had changed. the cars, the way things were made and all that jazz. what would he think of all the things going on? he would talk about his life going up. the car. a totally different life and i'm not sure i would call it more easy. but a lot of luxuries. you have me curious? ( :

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  2. It's easy to see that you were taught well and that you still enjoy working in the woods and smelling the fresh Canadian air.That's a lot of wood to keep you toasty warm next year.

    Hugs,
    JB

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  3. Ahhh the memories . . . your mention of cherry wood made me think of my dad. His favorite burn in his fireplace because of the snap and crackle while it burned . . . Thanks for the Thanksgiving wishes . . .

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  4. Though my memories don't involve saws, I've been remembering through both smiles and tears this week, too, as I make rolls, pies and other Thanksgiving goodies. These people from the past may not sit around the table with us anymore, but they are still very much present through the skills they taught us and the memories we made.

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  5. You learned hard work at an early age and with a wonderful teacher. I enjoyed your memories and your photos. I never knew my grandfather's but a great uncle was the closest thing. He had a general store in a small village and I can still smell that store and hear the creaking wood floor and see the Ganong chocolates in the large glass jar. :) Good memories.

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  6. I can identify. Don't know if the non-farm girls have ever experienced such things. It's good that you are here to share the feeling.

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  7. i used to help my father (and sister) make wood every summer. sometimes i had to help feed limbs into the circle saw. scared me to death!

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  8. I know those titles..the one I don't really like is "hold this" person while the dh measures 29 times to see if something is level or the right length.
    I do not like chainsaws though and will hide in the house till all the cutting noises stop. I don't know why they bother me so much. My father was raised on the farm, but I was raised on air force bases..it wasn't till I moved back home to the country that I was exposed to the farm life.

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  9. Hey Buttons ... great memories and nicely illustrated with your photos. Fun for me to see the snow as I'll be looking forward to seeing it "live" in a few weeks!

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  10. We don't have a wood burning anything but I do have titles...like "put this in your purse woman" .

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  11. You are sure going to need a lot of wood for the winter...
    I love that you are always grateful for what you have, and for your memories!!

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  12. Wonderful memories there :) good to think back and remember how things used to be done. It was their way, they had no other.
    Hugs M xox

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  13. Great memories. My husband does a lot of chain sawing!

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  14. Great memories, Buttons! Love all the images especially the snack and drink one.

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  15. What a wonderful post and photos ! I love the sound of a chain saw and the smell of the fresh cut wood ! I do a bit of everything to help Papa cutting, hauling, splitting and stacking . I enjoy a good hard days work like this outdoors ! Thanks for sharing , have a good day !

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  16. This is hard work, Buttons! I would't be able to do work like this anymore. Take care of yourself!

    Thank you for the Thanksgiving wishes. We will have a great time with family here. xo

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  17. Working with Grandpas is always fun. Getting wood now is still hard work.

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  18. What beautiful memories especially this time of year.......Oh, how we miss those precious ones! Have a wonderful and blessed Thanksgiving! I love the pics!! Roxie

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  19. Beautiful story. Often a little thing triggers memories like that. Grandpa always had such a gleam in his eye. Thank goodness for memories. Happy Thanksgiving (I know you already had yours, buy I may have forgotten to wish you well).

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  20. i didn't cut wood with my grandpa but i would help him load shotgun shells ha! i have some super memories of my grandpa and i miss him and my grandma so much! i always enjoy your stories :)

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  21. When I was little I had my own stool in the shop when my Dad was working! I was the tool go getter girl! Lol!
    Oh the memories.....
    Now I'm the tool wife! Lol! :)
    Cheri

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  22. Great memories, B! Unfortunately I left my grandfather(s) behind when we emigrated (when I was six). But we did get to spend 3 glorious months with him when he and my grandmother visited three years later - memories I'll always treasure. Now (sometimes unwittingly) we're building memories for our grandchildren.

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  23. You always have such interesting stories to share. My grandfathers both passed away when I was 6 (I think). I have very few memories of them. I'm sure you treasure yours.

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  24. Precious memories, how they linger....

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  25. Sweet memories, B. You work hard, and I know your Hero appreciates your help. With Larry, I am usually the "holder" of things. :-)

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  26. Hey Buttons!

    Alas, I have such memories too! Mine are much warmer though. I have hitched many a wagon for hay and tobacco. The chainsawing was left to the men, but I had to carry many a load into the house to put in the woodbox and racked lots of wood in my day. The favorite was making kindling from cedar. I can still hear and smell the pop of the new fire and the aroma of the cedar.

    Hugs back at you.

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The mind grows by what it feeds on. J.G. Holland

Thank you so much for your comments, they mean more to me then I could ever express. Hug B

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