The Log

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Non-Fiction  |  House: Booksie Classic


Log splitting, female style!

Submitted: February 13, 2018

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Submitted: February 13, 2018

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The Log.

It sits there, taunting, daring me to try it. ‘Come on, Hully, give it a go! You’ll not defeat me but if you don’t try, you’ll never know'.

It’s a big log, over a foot in diameter, about ten inches tall. It’s not the size of it that is daunting, but the branches that had grown from it, leaving their presence in the form of knots. Multiple knots that appear almost the entire way around the outside.

The axe is one of those long-handled ones, almost half of my full height. No problem, I’ve used it to split plenty of logs before. Took a while to get used to swinging it right but I’ve got the hang of it now. But this log, there’s no doubt it’s going to be a challenge.

The thing with knots is they snag the blade, stop it’s smooth downward descent. I’m going to have to aim for a knot-free place, if I can find one. Circling it a few times, I find it, a small area that does seem to be clear. I turn it, line it up and try to take aim.

Now, I’ll be the first to admit that my aim is far from perfect. I’m not one of those people that seem to quite effortlessly split logs straight down the middle. My halves more often turn out to be far from equal thirds, but hey, I still get there!

Okay, feet about two foot apart, knees slightly bent, I lift that axe above my head and let it drop. Fail! It didn’t hit straight, didn’t even leave a mark. Higher this time, back above and behind my head, I let it swing down, gathering momentum and it slices through about four inches then comes to a dead stop.

My aim was out and I have been well and truly knotted.

One foot on the log, I try to withdraw the axe. It’s not having it, not even a fraction of an inch. I’m not going to be able to get it out from the top so that means it just has to go down.

Have you ever felt like you are being watched, even when you know that you’re alone? There’s a stack of them, just waiting for their turn. All are facing me, enjoying my predicament. Get with it, Hully, logs can’t see!

Okay, take a deep breath, lift up the axe together with the log. It’s heavy, a struggle, can’t get it very high before – thump – I smack them both to the ground. No splitting sound, which is what I was hoping to hear. If the blade has moved at all it is less than half an inch.

Go again and again. There’s no way of turning back now. If I had ever had a chance to lever that axe out, it is way in the past now. My arms hurt, my shoulders hurt, and my back is begging, ‘No more!’

The sweat is starting to form on my forehead so I take off my jacket, roll my shoulders and take a breather, trying not to look at those sniggering logs.

Back to the log at hand, I lift it as high as I can, and hurl it down to the ground. Can feel the vibration of the impact through my feet as well as the rest of me. But it’s moved! I’m getting there. This knotty problem is not going to defeat me.

Once more, higher than ever and with a thud that log splits in two. It’s a hollow victory as one part fly ups to hit me in the mouth while the other lands hard on top of my right foot. I can’t feel my arms at all....some relief there, I guess.

Wiping the blood from my split lip, I head off back indoors to get cleaned up. One last thing before I go. Turning to those logs, I give a semi-triumphant, ‘I’ll be back!’ And just for a moment I let myself believe that they really did shudder.

 

Please note: No trees were felled for the making of this incident, only by Hurricane Ophelia.


© Copyright 2018 hullabaloo22. All rights reserved.

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