Are We There Yet?

We follow the rhythm of our fuel choice. Our home's large cast iron woodstove requires a calendar of activity based upon annual, then monthly and finally, daily routines and rituals. The cycle begins in April with calls to local loggers and firewood dealers. Men mostly, smelling of pitch, wet wool, smoke, and gasoline all washed in a patina of chain saw oil, they are consulted and bargained with. The discussions include weather, last year's wood consumption, pests, outerwear, trucks and heavy machinery. The order of discussion may vary but the subjects remain rooted in the routine reasoning bound up with the task at hand, that of purchasing this year's quota of cord wood. A price is finally agreed upon with one of these chainsaw sages sometime in the month of June. In July, just when the garden has finally found its magnificent blossoming perfection and the grass spreads out green over our domestic fiefdom, an ancient truck, gears grinding, oil pan leaking, pulls into...