Its sparrow fart and here's me stressing. This is Wood Week.
An old mate has kindly gifted me a tree that has fallen where he wants to plough. I'm shitting myself. I look well, but by 1.30 I will be on my knees. With a chainsaw. This is the stuff that gets me down. 18 months ago I'd be looking forward to it, now I'm already making excuses for my poor effort.
Oh well, they say 30 minutes of moderate exercise is good. I'll do a fortnight's worth in one day. Then do it again tomorrow. Gargh.
I'm borrowing his tipper so I'll only have to throw it on and dumpdit later rather than driving back and forward loading and unloading trailers. That's a good thing. I think. Wish me luck.
