This weekend we turned the clocks back, and with the end of Daylight Saving Time ended any pretense that summer might just last a little longer this year. On Sunday at 5pm, it was already dark and cold outside; making light and making heat in the house has once again become a priority. So last week we called the woodcutter, and ordered our regular load of wood.
When he delivered it, he proposed to bring another load the day after because - he explained - he had really good, dry, seasoned wood at the top of the pile, which would be the first wood he'd sell, and he'd like for us to have it. The woodcutter has always been very nice to us since we started buying wood from him some years back, but now he's treating us as well as his long-time customers – or better. Business in the firewood market is down, in fact. Pellet stoves are taking over, and he always shakes his head disapprovingly when the subject comes up ("people are switching over to pellets because they're easier to handle and cheaper. But where do they come from? Who makes them, and with what materials? And what will happen when pellet prices skyrocket, which they certainly will?"). Another problem for our woodcutter is that the former woodcutter in the area is now back in business, and as a much younger man with bigger equipment, he makes for serious competition.
As promised, the woodcutter delivered more wood the following day. Before leaving he asked, "Do you like potatoes? Because" - he added - "I've had an exceptional harvest, and would love for you to have some." And then he drove away in his old pickup truck - a good woodcutter, and a generous man.