Turpentine sticky is cure for a cut/ and it cracks in the stove when the dampers are shut

Today I will carry in my last load of wood for the year.

Not because it’s Spring, not yet, but because tomorrow Travis will be home. And the fire? That can be all his job.

My job, since he left in January, has been everything from leaky pipes, frozen water lines, packing away Christmas decorations, sweeping,cooking, vacuuming, hanging shelves, moving furniture, installing a baby gate, nailing a board to the back of the bookshelf so Sylvia can’t push all the books down behind it, re-shelving all the books each time Sylvia pulls them off the shelf (about three times a day), shovelling snow (twice. But still.), changing lightbulbs, unclogging the cold water line that leads to the washing machine, sweeping*, and carrying, stacking, and lighting wood for the fire.

I’ll do everything else if I don’t have to lug any more wood from the shed. Goodbye, turpentine hands! Goodbye, mysterious bruises!

* Sweeping. I do it a lot.

Title line from A Second Newfoundland Alphabet by Tom Dawe.

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