On the day after the limb fell, crews turned up with the wood-chipper and a cherry picker, to ‘take the weight off’. They proceeded to trim one side of the tree – drastically. We lugged in the logs, to dry for next winter, only leaving a couple of huge ones. Mr R’s puny chainsaw couldn’t cope with them. We got a small saw earlier in the year, just for cleaning up the yard, having no intentions of gathering our own wood in the forest ever again. Getting too old for that!

Our town is surrounded by forests, with a section or two designated for wood collection each year One pays a fee per metre of wood, and can only collect wood already felled by the forestry blokes during thinning. These days, even collecting fallen timber from roadsides incurs a fee – and they wonder why bushfires are more dangerous now!
The laws have changed, too, you can now only collect green wood, you have to store and dry it yourself and must collect your whole supply over a small timeframe. We started buying our wood when Rob’s eye started playing up. Not safe using a chainsaw if you are in pain and cannot see properly, so I played up my back pain a bit to talk him into paying for lovely split wood deliveries!
Ahh, I’ve digressed. This morning everyone is back and the bright orange witches hats are out, chainsaw buzzing, and thumps as the logs hit the ground. I hope they don’t drop anything on the house! It’s marvellous, the size of the wood they can feed into those chippers.







It looks like termite mud there, where it parted: but then it could just be rot where the water gets in.

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