Eternity and the Firewood
I haven't posted much lately. The reason is that my various physical systems, especially the circulatory and the nervous, have severely co-opted the clearness of thought that is necessary to string words and sentences together in orders that make at least a little sense, to the writer anyway.
Sometimes my labors "right in through now" remind me of the myth of Sisyphus, except that nothing corresponds too well to the huge rock that he was eternally condemned to push up to the top of a hill, only to see it roll all the way back to the bottom, upon which he had to trudge back down and start pushing it upward again, throughout eternity.
People in ancient days had some extremely twisted minds, to come up with and to pass along so relentlessly such incredibly cruel and gruesome concepts as the eternal ordeals of Hell or the myth of Sisyphus. The only explanation must be that the majority in those days were so wild that the so called wiser heads figured they had to keep them scared to death, to keep them in line.
Naturally eternity isn't any kind of a factor here, and no one is happier about that than I am.
Meanwhile my rock can't be the huge hickory either, that I managed to cut down over two weeks ago and have since completely sawed up, so that there remains only the much more rigorous job first of splitting the rounds -- by hand with mauls and wedges -- and transporting them in a big garden cart down one long slope and up another, the trip down the hill being as difficult and much more dangerous than the other part, when it helps that my wife usually assists with pulling the cart up the hill to the house.
So my rock can't be the garden cart either, made necessary because most of my woodlot lies across the creek and up a ridge, and I can't afford or want the tractor and the stout bridge that a more practical person wouldn't hesitate to put in first.
And the rock can't be the firewood either, because it never rolls back down and instead stays up there at my house and warms the heart, both in its appearance and in its final hours in our soapstone stove -- especially in those very rare days when it snows ...with a 30% chance of that, day after tomorrow.
Sometimes my labors "right in through now" remind me of the myth of Sisyphus, except that nothing corresponds too well to the huge rock that he was eternally condemned to push up to the top of a hill, only to see it roll all the way back to the bottom, upon which he had to trudge back down and start pushing it upward again, throughout eternity.
People in ancient days had some extremely twisted minds, to come up with and to pass along so relentlessly such incredibly cruel and gruesome concepts as the eternal ordeals of Hell or the myth of Sisyphus. The only explanation must be that the majority in those days were so wild that the so called wiser heads figured they had to keep them scared to death, to keep them in line.
Naturally eternity isn't any kind of a factor here, and no one is happier about that than I am.
Meanwhile my rock can't be the huge hickory either, that I managed to cut down over two weeks ago and have since completely sawed up, so that there remains only the much more rigorous job first of splitting the rounds -- by hand with mauls and wedges -- and transporting them in a big garden cart down one long slope and up another, the trip down the hill being as difficult and much more dangerous than the other part, when it helps that my wife usually assists with pulling the cart up the hill to the house.
So my rock can't be the garden cart either, made necessary because most of my woodlot lies across the creek and up a ridge, and I can't afford or want the tractor and the stout bridge that a more practical person wouldn't hesitate to put in first.
And the rock can't be the firewood either, because it never rolls back down and instead stays up there at my house and warms the heart, both in its appearance and in its final hours in our soapstone stove -- especially in those very rare days when it snows ...with a 30% chance of that, day after tomorrow.
posted by Carl (aka Sofarsogoo) | 9:24 AM
1 Comments:
You still aren't posting a lot. Just wanted to let you know that I keep checking in and hope you are doing better soon.
Post a Comment
<< Home