I woke this morning, groggy after the holiday, and let the dogs out to pee as usual. As I was about to bring them back in, I heard a terrific crash outside and much barking from our little Queensland heeler. I rushed outside to find that she had wedged herself behind the woodpile and succeeded, with all 30 of her pounds, to push the pile over into the snow.
And I had just finished stacking all that wood a few days earlier.
Needless to say, she spent the morning cowering in the corner, sure of her impending doom, while I went about my day. It wasn’t until just now that I was able to go out and survey the damage.
As it turns out, I’m glad I didn’t come down too hard on her. The frozen ground, suitably strong to hold up the wood for the weekend, had thawed to the point that the rack broke through the frozen crust, causing the whole pile to pitch over into the yard. Our poor dog was merely the straw that broke the camel’s back on this one.
I am back inside now, having just spent the last hour paying for my own mistakes. I placed thin boards under each narrow foot, hoping that the frozen ground would hold better with the weight spread out a bit. With the coming sub-freezing temperatures and up to a foot of snow, I think we’ll be okay for a while.
Why is so much of homesteading a two steps forward one step back proposition?
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