I am ashamed to say

I don't own an axe. Not even a splitting wedge.  In my late teens I used to burn off excess energy by splitting wood....man I miss those high T count days.

I have tools no average precious urban snowflake knows exist. Universal spring compressor for GM 700 R4 transmission for example.*

"Why do I not have an axe?", I found myself asking, er..myself over the weekend.

Needing an axe has not come up much until recently.

Winters have been so mild over the past two decades at the BAR Corp. HQ that a couple of bundles of firewood wrapped in cellophane from the corner store would handle the few odd days where the temperatures even flirted with the concept of cold.
So, now the climatic cycle appears to have circled back around to something akin to 1983 or 1989; years it actually snowed down here.
My FIL and MIL sent us home with as much firewood as we could stuff into the trunk of Belle's BARmobile a while back.  Quarter split logs from a very fat Oak.
And I mean, very fat.  I can fit a total of one at a time in the pathetic metal box that masquerades as a fireplace in the HQ.

Wanting 10% of the heat from a roaring fire and the cozy ambiance I applied copious amounts of natural gas to said one hand clapping log. It was good and the Lord did grin, until the gas bill comes next month.
I was at the hardware store yesterday. I could have rectified this problem. It didn't even occur to me.

I suppose I'm going to have to schedule said axe purchase on my smaht phone calendar.

Jeez. I need more time out from under the fluorescent lights.








*No, I did not buy it at a garbage garage sale. Yes, I did actually use it rebuilding a transmission.