Happened just the other day. I was gettin' kinda short. @ old farts. So I see a pile of rounds by the side of the road with a sign, "Firewood for sale." Looks like about 1.5 cords, even split of Red Maple, Black Cherry and Red Oak. I need to stack more quick-dry so I call the guy and ask what he wants for it. He says "I'm not a wood guy, make me an offer." I sez "Well, my stove takes 16" wood, I'll have to re-cut quite a bit of it; How about $25?" "Oh, come on, that doesn't even cover my cost of having them taken down." "OK, $50, but that's it." "Oh, no. I've got another guy that's interested." "OK. You have my number." He's obviously not a wood guy, and thinks he has a gold mine there. Maybe he'll call, but I hope he doesn't wait too long; A bunch of the rounds were standing on end, soaking up water. Not a wood guy, indeed.... Maybe it's God's way of telling me not to pay for wood.