Chapter 6 Sample: Cords of Wood

 

My first job was hauling wood for my grandfather when I was about six or seven years old. I did it for years. I used to have to go over there to work on Saturday mornings. My mother used to say, “You need to learn to work and I need you to go over and help your grandfather stack wood for his wood furnace.” 

The wood was split with an axe and wedges by an older kid and Al. My brother Greg and I would pile it into cords. Then Grandpa would come and measure the cords with a yardstick that hangs in my kitchen to this day. 

We’d also carry the cords to his car where he had one side of a wood box he used for a platform in his trunk. It turned it into a version of pa ickup truck for him. I enjoyed watching how he stacked the cords. He always took his time and tried to do the very best job he could. It fascinated me. That’s when I first noticed he had a cushion with a leather cover that he sat on when he drove his car. Al told me Grandpa sat on it because he was short. I have that cover and use it as a leather doily on the headrest of my recliner. 

After the car was loaded, he’d drive the car about fifty feet to the house by the coal shoot, which he’d use to move the cords into the basement. 

We even did this in the winter. A lot. I remember it was really cold. He had an old wool cap he’d let me wear when I would complain my ears were cold. After my grandfather died, I asked my grandma if I could have that hat. It was still hanging on a peg by the door. I have that wool cap to this day. 

A lot of times, I’d be working on the Soo Line, or some other physical job, or even on a project at home - and I’d remember those lessons from my grandfather. Then I would work even harder and try to do the very best job I could, just like he did. 

No matter how many cords we’d piled, we got a dime for a day’s work. We also got a lot of horrible, cold, and tired memories — but great lessons.

 
Mary Maymome-stories