A foggy morning here along the river—as several mornings this past week have been. Some arrived with fog so dense and thick I could see neither the trees on the island across from the cottage, nor even the riffle a few yards upstream from the bottom of the front deck's steps.
I'm now in woodcutting rather than remodeling mode—a fear of freezing during the coming winter being the deciding factor. By my best calculations, we currently have only enough wood cut and split to get us into early-January. At least two additional cords are needed, and I'd feel better knowing I had three or four at the ready. Luckily I probably have that much in ash logs on the ground, just needing to be sawed into firewood lengths and split to manageable size. That's what I'll be doing for much of today…and tomorrow…and however many days beyond that it takes to work up the logs and stockpile the reserves we need.
For those of you wondering about the seemingly forever-ongoing kitchen redo, I'm happy to report I got the all the cabinets in, the sink plumbed, and the water turned on the Tuesday evening before Thanksgiving…so we made it with more than 24 hours to spare before starting to cook the big feast. No more bathtub dishwashing! While there's still a number of things to install and do before the kitchen can be pronounced finished, it's now useable—and with any luck, most of the lacking details will be taken care of by Christmas.
10 comments:
HI GRIZZ - you have your work cut out for you with all the wood splitting, piling and so forth. I love that you are able to do it - so many blessings in that :-) And good news on your kitchen re-do just about done and usable. Wow!
I love the photo - fog and mist bring me such a sense f calm and peace -
We are packing up and readying for our move to what we have named "Mount-Hope" - I put up a post if you get a moment
Love to you always,
Gail
peace.....
Another absolutely beautiful picture. I can almost hear the sound of the river as it flows along. One of the nice things about sawing and splitting firewood is that it must be done outdoors (escape from house chores, yay) and warms you in the present as well as in the cold days to come.
Gail…
I'll be sure and check out your post. I keep up with your doings and soon-to-be move on FB, but didn't see the blog item…of course I haven't seen much lately, as I've had my every waking moment taken up on the remodel. While not done by a long shot, I have reached the point where much of the pressure is reduced, so I'm not so frantic and single-minded. In other words, I'm reclaiming some of my life! :-)
Out To Pasture…
We worked on the wood all weekend, except for the last hour of daylight yesterday when we quite early to go get our Christmas tree. Which I'll maybe be able to at least set up today, though whether we'll manage to get it decorated tonight I wouldn't take bets on. We'll see. But I'm now feeling a lot better re. my winter firewood situation. There's still some to cut, and we didn't start splitting just yet, but I probably have close to another three chords ready or semi-ready, mostly ash, and ought to be pretty close to making it through until spring without being overly conservative.
Yesterday was quite foggy, too, but this morning—while cloudy—is so far clear of even a misty wisp, the first such morning in at least a week.
Grizz: Are those ash logs EAB-killed? Supposedly, the EAB has arrived in our county in eastern Pennsylvania, but there's no direct evidence of it here in my preserve. Nevertheless, the ashes are all doing poorly even without EAB--they're all in decline and/or dead from one or more maladies. EABs will starve when they get here (I hope).
Scribe--(Yes, I insist stubbornly on calling you Scribe--that is a proper noun, not an attribute)
We had several of those foggy freezy mornings. Quite an odd combination.
But the effect on vegetation was like hoar frost--strikingly lovely, and very transitory.
Scott…
Yup. Every ash in my yard—and I have a bunch!—are either dead or dying. This is true for all the ash trees hereabouts. A total devastation similar to the chestnut. None are spared. As a guess, I'd say ashes make up 10-15 percent of Ohio's forests overall, with some locations being much higher. Many villages have relied almost exclusively on ash for their landscaping along streets and in parks. Sometimes thousands, which destroys their budget.
Lots of folks have lots of ash trees in their yards. Just up the road there's a string of several brick homes, each custom built back in the 1950s, maybe half- to three-quarter million dollar properties, each set well back from the road with their wide and deep frontage covered with huge old ashes—50 to 100 in each yard. Spectacular homes in heretofore spectacular settings. Now, several of the owners have apparently had the same trimmer come in and cut off every single limb and the tops. So what's left are standing stumps, like giant tombstones. Good for birds, of course, but tragically ugly—and really, there aren't enough woodpeckers, nuthatches, creepers, etc. in the world to keep up with such a food supply.
A tree trimmer I know told me he has work already on the books to keep him busy for years to come, even if he wants to work 7 days a week, 52 weeks a year! All tree crews are the same. They typically just cut the most dangerous trees and hope to get the others at a later date.
Really, Scott, my telling is not even close. You can't believe the number of dead ashes around. A recent documentary on the subject makes it clear…within the next few years, virtually every ash in North America will succumb. You can treat and save an individual tree, at fair expense and trouble, if done very early, but it's only temporary. Sooner or later the tree will get nailed. My yard will look fundamentally different within a year or two—it already does, and I've only cut down 2 of maybe 20-25 ashes, big and small. Ohio's wooded landscapes will soon look different. There is no fix, no reprieve. The EAB cometh and our ashes are going to fall. Enjoy your luck while it lasts…
KGMom…
Several friends reported "frozen fog" elsewhere locally, but it didn't happen here. A bit too warm or too moist or too something here along the river, I guess. I'd have liked to seen it and had the chance to make a few photos. I've seen such frosted fogs in the past, but not this time…though I don't ever recall witnessing so many heavy fog mornings in row. Fog which often endured until late morning, even pushing noon.
As a fellow scribe it's imperative to occasionally remind that we qualify for both noun and verb usage…we do and we are. Thank you!
Grizz: It's all so depressing. I had visited northwestern Ohio (closer to the introduction site) quite a few years ago for a natural history field trip, and the woods there were already full of standing dead ashes.
And, then, of course, we have other tree diseases here, too, like oak scorch, a bacterial disease attacking red oaks and thousand canker disease on black walnuts. I don't know what species of trees to plant anymore.
Scott…
I don't know whether it's age-related wisdom, apathetic ignorance, or overwhelming blindness, but while I think I ought to be depressed about losing all our ashes, I just can't seem to work up the energy to go there. It is what it is, I can't make a difference, and life's too short to get bogged down in lost causes.
So I try and feel grateful for a long-term supply of superb firewood.
As our world grows increasingly global in terms of economy and transportation, these natural disasters are bound to multiply. Greed and indifference will see to that. For all our talk and superficial nods to "living green," the history of human nature points otherwise. Sooner or later we'll inadvertently set off that chain of events which will ultimately and irreversibly seal our demise…not pretty, but well deserved. Emerald ash borers in the woods? Pythons in Florida, and the occasional mamba? Zebra mussels in the Great Lakes? Huh! Mere minor blips. Wait til the BIG ONE comes rolling downhill straight at us! All the drugs and technology, political rhetoric and sorrowful hand-wringing anguish we can muster collectively will not slow it down one iota nor sway its course.
Of course it may all just end just one day soon with a deafening bang, a blinding flash, and mushroom cloud or two drifting over an empty, sickly-green sky.
In the meantime…if you're going to plant trees—and that sounds like a "best use" way to while away the remaining time—I say think variety. Diversity makes for the healthiest, most future-proof woods. Think of all those foreign, as yet-to-be-introduced species and diseases. Disasters-in-waiting. We can't expect them to all want to chow down on ashes or elms, oaks or chestnuts. Put out a few Kentucky coffee trees, the occasional sassafras, maybe a hemlock here and a blue beech there. A good host doesn't like to see even uninvited guests to go wanting. Consider the possibility of turning your upland hardwoods into a rolling prairie! I don't we've had a good prairie plant disaster yet.
Am I being overly pessimistic? Well……………nahhhhhh. Don't think so. Maybe just need another cup or two of coffee. ;-)
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