My ears perk up as a vehicle pulls into my driveway. I look out my office window to see a truck filled with chopped wood. I’ve never gotten this excited over logs since last Tuesday when I dropped one in the…nevermind (It was my biggest log yet)…anyway my heart raced with happiness. FREE FIRE WOOD! Wood I do not have to watch my husband saw up, wood that I do not have to chop. I might be a country gal (It’s official, 4 years in a hick town makes me a country gal) but I still fail at wood chopping. I can, however, use the circular saw now as I was forced to use it as I sat frozen in my house glaring at those un cut branches and 4×4 planks last year. Wood my husband had intentionally left there JUST to teach me how to use the saw. And I mastered that circular saw and behold! We had fire wood.
After I was done work in my office I skipped outside. I admired the pile of wood. A face cord at least. Nice big pile of chopped wood that fits perfectly in my fire place. I was so happy with this beautiful pile that I began to move it. I started to neatly pile it up in the wood shelter (which oddly enough is reserved for the uncut wood in the shed, but since there’s uncut wood in the shed the logs had to go somewhere). I made one nice row, sat back and admired it like a thing of art. This art is going to keep my house warm in the winer and reduce my hydro bill. I felt like Wonderwoman, and within an hour and a half the entire pile was piled neatly.
I’ve come to a realization that I pride myself in a job well done, particularily if the job is a physical one. I think my pride has always been there. I’m a scrawny 110 pound female, I shoudn’t even lift a finger to physical labor yet I do. Take the job I had at a grocery store for example. Who in their right mind would hire a 110 pound scrawny thing like me to work in the grocery department? I should have been a cashier but nope, I wanted that job in the grocery department. I was hired to face the store, oddly enough facing wasn’t my strength, stocking shelves was. At first they looked at me with confusion as I picked the cleaning aisle skid, you know, laundry detergent and heavy stuff like that. I put it all away in record time then grabbed the water skid and the drink skid and anything that had heavy stuff on it. I proudly stocked those shelves which automatically landed me a job as a shelf stocker. I was too valuable to face the shelves. I eventually got trained on Cash but the grocery manager kept stealing me every time I was scheduled to be a cashier. I would even race the guys to the front to do carry outs. If I was on the floor, I had dibbs on all carry outs. Three 24 packs of water? No Problem, I’ll do it! 50lb bag of potatoes? Pft, easy! Customers even complained that I, the scrawny little girl, was doing all the heavy lifting.
When we bought our house we had a pretty wild winter the first year. My husband sat on the couch, all nice and cozy as I looked out the window. “There’s like 2 feet of snow on the driveway.” I said “I’ll shovel tomorrow.” My husband replied. “Screw that! I’m going to do it!” My husband figured I could do a quarter of it before dropping dead. Nope I shovelled for 2 hours, and when I was done I marvelled at my hard work. Then the snow on the neighbour’s roof came crashing down, I cursed, threw the shovel and stompped onside. Murphy’s law states that the snow will only fall off my neighbour’s roof IF and only IF we have JUST completed shovelling. But alas, I throw myself on snow removal duty because the guys take days to finally get out there to work.
We use industrial size garbage bags in our house because of a 3 bag per week limit. That and we have to pay $1.25 per bag so even if we only have 1 bag we want to save money. These industrial bags are bigger than me. Morning came along one bright and sunny summer day and the guys had not touched the garbage so I simply garbbed the two bags and walked down the driveway and dropped them. Normally I marvel at my work but I never do with trash, it’s just a little trek down the driveway and the neighbours might think I’m crazy if I stand there in awe of the trash.The garbage man that morning was particularily lazy. “Hey! I can’t take this bag! It’s too heavy!” Too heavy? What? I just one handed carried that bag down the driveway. There is nothing more embarassing to a man’s ego than a little girl grabbing the “Too heavy” bag with one hand, walking to the truck and tossing it inside. As he stood there with his jaw on the pavement I cutely exclaimed “I weigh 110 pounds. I take the garbage out every week, so if I can carry the trash down the driveway I’m certain you can toss it in your truck.” Needless to say, we have never had garbage pick up refusal since.
So now as I look into the future of more wood drop offs, more garbage and more snow…I smile, knowing that I could complain that the men in my house are lazy but I choose not to. After all, I am quite certain my husband sits back to let me do my labor filled jobs and I know that he is very proud of his pint sized wifey.