Through the snow, up hill both ways...

Last Sunday Jake, Geronimo, Henry and I drove up to the Uintas and chopped down some trees. Two to be exact- dead ones. You know that old saying about a tree falling in the woods? Yeah, it's amazing that you can't hear that in the city. I swear that's about the loudest noise ever. Gathering wood is usually pretty fun in my opinion. I like chainsaws. And axes. And wearing my Carhartts. I also like Jake in a pair of Carhartts, with a chainsaw, and his big beard. I'm getting sidetracked... So, getting firewood=fun. Getting firewood with two babies in tow=lame. Gmo was napping when we arrived, so it started out well. I was able to help Jake a bit. I just put Henry in the backpack and did what I could. But when Gmo woke up my task became making sure he didn't die. Gathering wood is not a task to do with children. Big things, i.e. trees, can fall on them. Chainsaws kick- I'm sure if I was clever I could come up with some sort of pun for that. Luck for you, I'm not clever. They can swallow bad things, get attacked by wild animals (Honey badger don't give a sh**!), or get run over by stupid "campers" on OHVs. Lame. So Jake was pretty much on his own after that. As the sun started to go down and there was still a ton of wood to cut and load, I relegated poor Gmo to the carseat with some crayons and a coloring book, loaded Henry on my back, and did what I could. That last sentence sucked. I didn't party all the way through college. I promise. And I inhaled, but just a little. Promise.
Here are some pictures of our exciting wood gathering expedition.

 Don't I look like I work hard?

 The fruits of our labor. I mean Jake's labor.