My Log Horse .....

I'm so chuffed with this! It all started a couple of weeks ago ~ which is a bit rich, really. Considering I've had a fucking chain saw for some years now!

 But, I finally decided it was about time I stopped chucking wood on top of pallets, and then stepping on one end as I lopped the other end off. Blade usually about six inches from my foot. Going to happen, wasn't it?

 Anyway, like ye do, I thought to myself; " Saw Horse? Two 'X' ends. Bit in the middle. Braced. Easy enough. Bolt it together and away we go. " 

 And that's really about as far as I got. Because, the moment I actually focused on the problem? The nitty gritty was fucking murder! 

 Where would I bolt it? What to? How would I attach that 'Bit in the middle'? 

 The prospect of then laying a pole along it and bearing down on one end with a saw, while the other end rose up under the pressure and a terrible accident occurred ..... Like I say; Never got that far.

 Got as far as my local. Spoke to Gary. The German. Ye know how precise and engineering minded those fuckers are. Gary knew. He explained some complex fucking monstrosity. A 'Hadrian's Wall' of X's. I calculated a terrible timber bill.

Fuck all that. I went down to the Creamery. Asked in there. Joe looked at me. As lost as ever. I often wonder if Joe comprehends a word of what I go on about to him. Poor sod. No joy there.

 So, there I am. Marching about town with a mission in mind. Getting fucking no where. Builders yard was no good either. I asked Eustice.  He proved useless.

 I can't even remember what I was aiming to ask them about, in Stensons. That's a sort of Builders Merchants for Farmers place.

 As it was, I bowled in the back door and told Gerry Stenson; " I've come to be shocked, stunned and disgusted. " He knows me. He looked me calmly in the eye and enquired; 'And why should ye be?'

 To which I said I wanted to know how much the all steel Log Horse he had outside the door was.. He said a ton. I said I wished he hadn't said that. He asked why not.

  I said; " Because, now I'll have to go next door and draw another ton from my fucking bank account, today. And buy that fucker off ye! "

 Which I did. Brought it home in the taxi. Stuck it in my cow shed. And there it's fucking stood, ever since. Just been too busy to do shit with it. Until today.

 Today, Pat' dropped me off a load of nice, thin poles. My stove is exquisitely 'posh' and ornate. Reassuringly expensive. But, as she only needs warm one room? Small. I like thin poles. Anything thicker than ye wrist just blocks my little stove up.

 And I have a shit load of such poles to saw. I got my little Log Horse out and set too. What a fucking dream! Someone's making these things, locally.

 They have it right down to a touch that would make Gary curl his lip. Brilliant little job of engineering. Stable as a rock. 'V' cradles for the wood are both of perfect depth and, in the case of the cutting end, 'width' to allow me to safely cut nice, short little 'loo roll' logs.

 I imagined operating the cunning foot pedal and spring loaded chain affair would be tedious? Not a bit of it! It gave me just that right few moments, without the saw in my hands, to do something else. Refocus on the saw. Start again.

 So, that's how I spent an hour or so, this morning. I wound up with five sacks of little logs. Shit loads of poles left to cut. Fucking great grin on my face.

 I absolutely fucking Love my little Log Horse. Not once did I feel any unease. She's an absolute beauty to work with. Complete pleasure. 

 At  €100.00 ? No Way could I have made anything even remotely approaching the excellence of materials, design and workmanship that went into this little beauty.

     Well pleased! If I wasn't guzzling stout? I'd happily be out there now, piling more and more sacks of mini logs. But, there's always tomorrow .....