Woodcutting.

Woodcutting.  One of autumn's finest rituals. 

I grew up helping my dad, along with my sisters, stack wood before winter's arrival.  I have distinct memories of the rough feel of the bark, fitting the pieces in the back of the truck together like a puzzle.  Brisk, cold air.  Daddy working hard, spending time with us.  

Imagine my delight when Brett came along and I realized he was one of those woodcutting kind of guys.  A boot-wearing, maul slinging kind of man.  A piece of childhood tucked into my future.  I used to help Brett stack the wood in the back of the truck before the girls were born.  I even remember one particular autumn day when I didn't know yet I was pregnant...but my body was trying to tell me.  I was more exhausted than I could even express, and squeezed myself onto the back of the truck with the wood to take a rest.  

This year is a little gap in this season of life for us, where we aren't pregnant and don't have a newborn. And so it is....that I'm able to help stack the wood again.  And I like that.  My body and mind have missed the methodical rhythm of combining exercise, hard work, conversation, and communion....

There's more to be found at the woodpile than just the raw materials for a warm winter.

{A note about A Rosy Retreat (finding the rosy in the routine) online class (see tab above)-
Holiday Special-Now through Christmas, the class is Buy One, Get One free for a friend!  I really believe in the power of joining with a friend (whether from another blog or in real life) and communicating about the class!  Simply pay via Paypal, and I'll contact you to get your friend's email address for an additional spot in the class for free!