Few things in my life give me the sense of satisfaction that my wood pile does? Nobody is gonna look up to me for the time I put into it. I don't feed my family with those efforts. I Keep them warm, but I could probably do that by doing a side job and putting that extra money toward heating costs and have more time left over. I get simplicity. I take this hard tree. Sometimes I cut it down myself, but usually I take what has fallen or been felled by someone else, and I cut it, carry it, split it, stack it, and eventually burn it. Most people enjoy the fire. The heat, the light, the primal act of burning. But most don't get the other side. The wood. I have stacks of wood. I care for my wood. I'm making plans for my wood shed. I probly don't need one. I've been doing well with just the black plastic on my wood stacks...but I'm gong to make one anyway. What is it about getting up an hour early in the morning and going outside to swing the maul, or stack wood that makes me feel so content and sets the stage for a good day. I enjoy stacking with my children even though they complain nonstop about it. There is just something good about gathering the kids together, into a workforce and stacking a big pile of wood. Maybe it's the conversations I'd miss if we just sat around the house and watched football or more likely went our seperate ways to entertain ourselves. Running my saw makes me smell like gas and covers me with sawdust and bark. I love it. I have a shop full of tools that I appreciate for their ability to make a job easy. I don't enjoy using them. But I really like running my saw, my woodsplitter, and swinging an axe and maul.