Winter, Christmas, next year's fuel

Winter has been kinder, this year at least, than previous years. We had a touch of snoww, a brief and passionate flurry, with the winds scrapring the hill clean and driving the snow hard into the corners of things, where it stuck for a few days.

We salted the drive to uncrack the ice, so the indefatiguable Nissan Micra could make it's intrepid and unfailing way out and over the hill at the bottom of the drive. Across thje valley the far mountains were snowcapped, and wrapped in mist and drifts of snow falling in thick cotton columns from the grey sky.

We're north facing here, and ringed with trees, so, our frost pocket freezes faster than nost, and the cold weather settles in the bowl of the land.

But it cleared quickly, and Christmas, such as it is, was saved. The family made their way down to us for the annual feedfest, and the house was frantically cleaned in preparation. Of such brief and intrepid manias are later life neuroses formed.

I took the opportunity to get out into the milder weather of late - it's been over ten degrees most days to take a little practice on my one man sawhorse.

It's worked out well, the prototype, and has speeded up the work by a factor of 4 or so. I'm cutting 8 to ten logs, to the perfect size, in the time it took me to cut two. And I'm cutting the hole log with ease. It's going to become a compund staple, and it cost nothing. Which is about 100 euro less than most of the manufactured options. And, I think, due to the multi log load, more efficient, and versatile.

But, while it's still fresh in my mind, here's a run down of pros, cons, and lessons learned, for the next iteration. I doubt if this one will last beyond cutting up next years wood, so, the permanent tool should be built next year.

• Pros. It's lightweight, so, reasonably portable by hand, and very portable by car. I'd consider making a ligher weight one for forest use in the alder I'll be cutting - those plantations are small, with thin tall trees, and cutting in situ makes sense as they are right beside roads.
• It works well with one person. Which is the main design brief. There's a gap beneath the holding platform that's fairly easy to thread a rathcet strap through, though it could be easier, and, when cinched in place and stuck in the ground, the logs are stable. Recinching is necessary usually oncfe only - this is a function of logs settling, rather than a design issue, and the rathchet makes it quick work.
• Thedesign is capable of handling multiple logs of differing lengths and radiuses.
• It's made from scrap bolts and wood.
• Recessed bolts are strong, and unlikely to be a sparking or chain damage concern.
• Cross base means it can be stabilised with logs underneath. the two beam design gives good stability when resting on logs.
• Wooden construction is chainsaw safe.
• Access to both log ends is clear and easy.
• Cutting the last cuts between the uprights is easy ( though the rathcet strap must be checked on boith sides, and tightened, before this cut is made, or bye bye ratchet.
• Pinching has not been an issue.
• Using a sacrifice log at the bottom protects the structure well.
• I'm guessing that the rathcet strps are likely to be hard wearing, weather and conditions ressistant, and easy to see if they are suffering wear and tear, something mot so easy to see with bungee cords. Also, while working well, and in good condition, they provide a far more stable, secure, and knock resistant restraint than bungees ( which can degrade rapidly, don;t respond well to th weather and conditions, and can be knocked partially or completely out by rough handling) Furthermore, bungees require multiple holding pints to provide the versatility required, which often means metal screws or nails.

Cons to this design

• The uprights are already tapering out, partially due to loading heavy logs high up, but partially due to thinness, and lack of bracing at the top. Possible answers, use thicker timber, and make a top brace ( even from fabric or old busted ratchets), and brace hoirizontally with lumber - possible here to make the struts taller than the load by far so logs can still be fed in with ease, while providing reinforcement. Or use branches/ riven logs which can be easily, cheaply, and quickly be replaced into mortices/drilled holes. The stronger preesure treated scrawpwwod route is probably the way to go.
• Cut logs can tumble forward or back, possibly hitting the blade top, or your boots. Wear strong boots, and only cut log diameters where the blade tip protudes far out. Not an issue with this design.
• The rathchet strap visibility issue could be cut out if the uoprights were placed so a cut in the middle wasn;t necessary - measure the stove width, and then measure ed's stove width as a guide for smaller, and make uprights whore external width measures less tha one, or both. Also, the length of the straps can mean the fabric flutters in the wind - not ideal with  16000 rpm blade.
• onsider a flat footed tripod system that would worll well in the concrete yrd for the permanent one, and a flat footed tripod for the portable. ouls make stability good, aid longevity ( not being submerged) and would work well in my woodshed setup - no moving timber to and from the orchard.
• Next time buy bolts and washers. The lumber can be scrap, but the right sized bolts and washers will make repair, replacement and retouching quicker, and longevity better.
•  The rathchet strap, because it is so long, trails on the ground out from the horse. Could become a trip hazard in a log strewn area. Clear the work area after each batch, and track down or customise to a shorter strap.
• The whole sntructure, because of the height, weight of the logs, and the leg structure (pointed stakes that stick in the mud) can be top heavy, and lean over.
• The tapering uprights mean there might be a tendency to load larger, heavier logs towards the top, tapering the uprights further, and adding to the instability.

For the home based one, I'd sacrifice light weight for strength of construction, so I'll need to plan for two. I might also consider trying out a riving/cleaving brake design, which would be multi-purpose, and even cheaper ( greenwood), as well as light (the tripod versions could work well in the forest). I should build the riving brake soon, and test it, so I can make an informed decision about this before I need to replace the current solution. I do feel that the multiple log load aspect of the horse is the way to go. still, trialling will tell..

Pigs on the loose

Took a walk up to the hill fields at the beck and call of the Gorgeous C. Snuffling at the edge of the forest that crowds up coniferously on two sides of out holding were a contenbted family of pigs.

The forest is about 120 acres in total, split into more than one plantation. Spruce as far as the eye can see. So, the sow, two boars and the piglet were all a long way from home. None had any tags, but the sow had a hole where a tag should have been.

So, it looks like these may have been loose for some little time. Or maybe the owner just hasn't ben keeping up with the work. One of them seemed to be a Gloucestershire Old Spot, or a Landrace or w=middle white and old spot cross,   and the others were Saddleback. They looked and sounded contented, rooting industriously around at the edge of the forest floor, though I am a little concerned they might root up the fence and sashay inquisitively onto our land.

They were happy to have us approach, and tolerated a bit of shoulder scratching happily enough, so, they've been around people recently enough. And they've avoided the hunters, who would, I'm sure, relish an untagged pig in their sights.

If I thought they had no owner, I'd be tempted to corral them and register them. The two boars are not that far from killing weight, and the sow is obviously producing. That said, we have no idea of the health of the herd, and, if they have been roaming this long while, it may be thet the owner was not particular about tending them.

The constant staccato of hunters guns has died off somewhat, and I've begun some more outdoor work. We've stowed about 300 litres of drinking water for ourselves in the small stone barn. And I'm clearing out the large barn and stables for animals. I've begun the fencing repair work, but that goes slowly at the moment.

 The deer have become skittish, lunging off into the undergrowth where they had been happy, this summer, to graze their ground as we passed in the distance.

I have seen a juvenile stag in full flight over fences and ditches and across open ground, cleaving space with flesh, arcing across the lush green of a grazed field, slowing slighly for a quick backwards glance before diving through the ash hedge and into the swallowing green of the spruce on the dappled dark shoulder of the valley.

It's quite a sight. Too quick a thing to catch with my words though.

Winters a comin'

The very long list is sitting undone bound between the blacl covers of a notebook, firmly closed, where it can't accuse me from.

That's not strictly true. But I liked how the line sounded.

We're working oujr way through the list, which spans the orninarily mudnae (checking the heating oil level) to the herculeanly mundane (storing the several hundred litres of water we plan to overwinter with).

There have been beautiful moonrises over the shoulder of the forested hill of late, the clear disc of ambering moon lighting up nighttime. The space station tracking rapidly acroiss the sky. Jupoiter shining at the foot of the burning moon.

Shots are ringing out across the valley. The dul rapid thuds of the pheasant hunters, plodding and rapdly plugging at the birds they seeded the area with. We met the neighbours, and dog, and children, waxcoated with broken guns, a liurching danelike creature skittering across the fields looking to flush out a fat little bird and watch it waddle across the sky. They had had no luck, and they moved on up the field and across the gorse and heather in a line.

Ther wood has arrived. We got stuck in the van reversing down out neighbours path, and he roared up happily in his tractor and hooked upma chain to drag the van up his hilltrack. With the few loads we have collected, we look set for next year.

This years wood is mainly split. Spruce is an awkward splitter, and one to be careful with. I founbd the six pound maul made shorter work than last years hickory handle axe, but even still, some had to be stubbornly cleft with a set of wedge and a hammer. What remains will have to be dug out and vut and split as the winter unfolds. Still, we should be set until the coming of February with what we have. Longer of we mix it with turf.

I love how the French say pipe

As I write, nestled in against the shouldering spruce, at the bottom of the hill, the riot of untrimmed greenery peeping over the sill from my study window. The steel grey Northwest sky rolling unbrokenly overhead.

What do I want to write about.

I, and my partner, ahve 12 acres of Northwest Ireland at our liberal disposal. It's rugged, hilly land, wet through and claggy and it grips you to it as you clamber. The rushes leave dark welts on your jeans.  The woods rustle like a green ocean, like a shifting and verdant sea shuffling onto sand.  The spaces between the tree trunks have the mossy stillness of green water, and I think a little more slowly as if my thoughts have to wade through the tidal trees to shore.

And, as with all thoughts, some of them arrive wearing wellingtons.

I want to write about the clear steel ring of an axe head on wood sounding out on the rim of the echoing valley like a prayer bowl. The rich dark rough sound of a spade biting into clay. About the solid unpoetry of dung and faecal decoposition. About where I live writing istelf in my body, in the shape of my arms and the unexpected breadths, about the shape of the sound tools make in a smothering meadow, and the thicktall summerwarm  acres of untended grass.

There will probably be a lot of talk about fencing.