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Life in the Real World


In a perfect world our supply of wood for the winter would be chopped and seasoning a year or more in advance. It would be stacked in neat  rows, just waiting for the cold weather to appear; the round logs displaying their lovely circular swirl pattern. In a perfect world this might also inspire a conversation about how to judge the age of a tree…we might even get into a discussion about fibinocci numbers. In real life, Chuck would call up a local business and have them deliver a dump truck load of chopped up pallets. woodpile-2

In a perfect world I would be home when the dump truck arrives and I could direct them to dump it as close to our shed as possible. In the real world, the truck arrived when I was gone. And dumped the load of wood across the driveway from our shed. 


But that’s fine, because my children have huge muscles and stellar work ethics. Well, some of them have some of those. They all have muscles, no matter how small. And the work ethic? They range from workaholic to I’m-tired-it’s-cold-can-we-rest-now?woodpile-4

Much to my surprise, they worked for hours….in the rain…until it was dark (hey, it’s almost winter, it was only a couple of hours). When they came in I greeted them with steaming mugs of hot chocolate and an invitation to watch a few episodes of Ninjago with me. woodpile-5

And that’s what life is like in the real world. Not perfect. Not neat and tidy. But lets face it, survival is an amazing motivator. 



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