A lot of my younger days was spent either processing (cutting, splitting, and stacking) wood for winter heat or moving and restacking firewood. There are a lot of life lessons that be learned from this chore if you will listen to the ones that are teaching the class. My dad, Bill Steele, is a great instructor in life lessons, as was my mother, Judy. See, the gathering of wood was not just dad’s job; it included our whole family. Dad did the saw work while I carried gas and oil for the saws and learned to sharpen chains. Mom and my sister, Sheri, pulled and stacked brush and loaded the wood to be hauled home. Dad is allergic to poison ivy, so most of our wood cutting was done in late fall and through the winter months as the sap was down in the vines and trees which just made things easier. Working on those cold days made us appreciate the warmth of the fire so much more. Back then people wouldn’t let you cut good timber, so we had our choice of creek banks and fence rows that needed cleaned out. Either way, it kept the house nice and toasty! I think kids today would benefit greatly from trying to spilt sycamore wood that has grown on a creek bank on the edge of a field. An old tree like that has stood the test of time, weathering many a wind storm that has twisted and turned the inside fibers of that tree that makes it almost impossible to split. Those days are forever in my memory. Yes, it was hard work and I’m sure I complained but I never went cold. If you didn’t already know, I am a preacher and I have used lessons from the woodpile in many a sermon as they reflect greatly what Jesus teaches us in Scripture. The willingness to work is one of those lessons. At an early age I’m sure I was made to help, but as I got older it was a responsibility I got to take part in. It was no longer just work, it helped my family and others as not every load of wood went to our house. We cut for a lot of folks in time of need and when they just couldn’t do it themselves. There is no feeling quite like filling a woodshed or carport and seeing what it means to somebody. It’s amazing how such a simple thing can give so much hope and joy.
In my opinion, food cooked on the wood stove is best.
We had a Fisher woodstove in those days. I think Dad still uses it. It was a Momma Bear model as it just has one door. The Poppa Bear had two doors.
Anyway it has a flat top perfect for a dutch oven to sit upon. On cold days, mom would cook chili or soup, maybe even a stew of some kind on top of the stove. And boy was it good! Here’s a favorite chili recipe.