I Am Woman, Hear Me . . .

moan, bitch, and complain.

Not really, but I clearly wasn't cut out for manual labor. I was raised with a pretty old-fashioned view of male/female roles. My mom's role was pretty much everything inside the house and my dad's role was to take care of pretty much everything outside the house.

However, in an effort to help get things winterized around here and to give Vern a hand while he was working on finishing the well repairs, I pitched in outdoors today.

Last week we had wood delivered.

And by delivered, I mean "dumped in a pile in front of the shop."

Which coincidentally is no where near where we planned to stack wood this winter.

After a few hours of loading up the trailer, hauling it across the yard, and stacking it up, I managed to pretty neatly wrangle all of our wood supply into a convenient location right off the back of the deck. We'll probably need another cord before the winter is over, but for now, it's all in one place and within an easy reach if the snow gets too deep.

While working outside today, I had time to reflect. I came to the conclusion that it wasn't so much that my upbringing was traditional and old-fashioned, but rather that my mother was smarter than I am.

She would have never ended up stacking wood for the winter.