THE long, cold, wet spring has resulted in the depletion of our firewood stocks, so there is an urgent need to replenish them. It’s not a job I enjoy. Everyone seems to have the notion that all firewood should be well-seasoned, beautifully shaped hardwood logs when in fact the principle of firewood is to heat both your home and your water – quickly. So before everyone howls ‘hardwood’, I’ll tell you exactly what I do.

I generally follow three simple principles: (1) it has to be free (okay, I own and run a sawmill), (2) I want instant heat from what I burn, and (3) I don’t want to be getting up every five minutes to bank up the fire. I start off with a pile of offcuts (post points) which gives the fire a hot base and has the water boiling in the back of the stove in 10 minutes. Onto that goes four or five regular logs, usually from a Douglas fir tree with butt rot. Douglas fir is dry and ready to go with very little seasoning, seems to turn to charcoal and, in my humble opinion, is far better than any hardwood. Once these have burned down, I place a large, knotty lump of something which can’t be split (usually Douglas) and that’s generally it for the night, resulting in a warm house, plenty of hot water and radiators you can barely touch. It’s such a simple process I’ve even got my 18-month-old daughter helping.

This noble art of fire-lighting seems to be getting lost, as the bulk of the population are now clueless, with some of the view that you can even light a log with a cigarette lighter. What’s happened in the intervening 250,000 years since man discovered fire? The problem with selling logs is you just can’t win. People complain they are either too big or too small or too short or too long or they burn too fast or don’t burn at all. After all, they’ve Googled it and some ‘expert’ in woodcraft with shiny teeth and a big smile has informed them that the only suitable product is a perfectly shaped, kiln-dried piece of oak. I suppose if people want to waste lots of money searching for the perfect log (does it exist?) then let them get on with it.

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Sometime last year, the lads had been splitting logs for firewood and were generally doing a good job. As I was going about my work I noticed they were struggling with a few crutches in the tree and, mindful of the strain it was putting on the splitter, I suggested they put the offending chunks to one side and I would collect them later. The delivery driver, who must have been at a loose end, approached me sometime later with a big smile on his face to say he’d split all those horrible, knotty chunks into small, kindling-sized pieces. How he hadn’t broken the splitter I have no idea, but I was now left with a pile of undersized sticks of no value whatsoever. Presumably our ancestors started with a few dried leaves before progressively increasing the size of the wood they placed on the fire.

How have we turned such a simple task into something so difficult?

As I’m on a roll this month, two other things really make me ill – one is creosote and the other is crop spraying. The former I have already discussed at length, but the latter really makes my blood boil. I know, by and large, farmers do a great job and fill the supermarket shelves with relatively cheap produce, but what they apply to that produce before and during its lifespan prior to harvest would probably fill several copies of the Forestry Journal. How we don’t all glow in the dark is beyond me. I suppose, with a young family, I’m very conscious of this and on a mission to try and eat food which is as natural as can be.

This noble art of fire-lighting seems to be getting lost, as the bulk of the population are now cluelessThis noble art of fire-lighting seems to be getting lost, as the bulk of the population are now clueless (Image: FJ/Voice)

With this in mind I have decided to extend the area used for cultivation in my own garden. I haven’t yet been brave enough to start tearing up the lawn or the flower beds, but there is a lightly wooded area in a corner which is within my vision. I keep trying to add different produce to what was grown last year and this year I have added strawberries. It’s interesting to see the pride and satisfaction my young daughter has in bringing harvested produce into the house, with newly dug potatoes being a particular favourite. There is no comparison when it comes to strawberries and I recommend a taste test between those grown at home and those grown abroad. My daughter even eats the green ones which, having tried them, I can confirm are surprisingly tasty.

It does make one wonder when you read reports about falling fertility rates in western countries and a rise in particular food-related cancers. It gives me immense pleasure to see how such a relatively simple exercise in growing a few things provides great nutrition. Plus it’s fun seeing a small child sneak into the garden to raid the peas and strawberries in the belief no one can see her.

On a slightly sadder note, two of our organic, grass-fed bullocks have gone to the abattoir. I say sad as my in-laws had become too attached to them and tears were shed. This shows the potential dangers of hobby farming, whereas I have treated the whole thing as a learning experience. Trying to calculate the cost of food in supermarkets is very tricky as they have a multitude of guises to baffle the customer. The mince, for instance, is often very fatty and has shredded heart to enhance its colour, while steaks are usually vacuum packed with lots of blood. Our own meat will be hung for 12 days as opposed to 28, which in my opinion makes the taste too strong. Also, within that time it will lose about 20 per cent of its slaughter weight and trying to estimate the true cost becomes fairly difficult. Ours have had very little input other than hay and I think by not forcing them to gain weight we haven’t incurred a host of problems, plus the welfare standard of the animals has been second to none.

This activity does need mechanical support and to this end I use my old 1965 Massey Ferguson 65, which operates a saw bench in the mill as well as doing the hay, topping the pasture, rolling in spring and harrowing, as well as a multitude of other tasks. I suppose such a small acreage barely justifies a tractor. However, the land is bordered by a large number of trees in neighbouring properties which have fallen onto my in-laws’ land. Here, a tractor is definitely required to clear the field in readiness for a contractor to come and process the timber into logs (nudge nudge Mr Daniel Graham). Ideally, a four-wheel drive with a loader so we can move logs. This small windfall would then provide the means to purchase an old tractor.

How have we turned such a simple task into something so difficult?How have we turned such a simple task into something so difficult? (Image: FJ/Voice)

However, before this could all take place and by sheer luck I was browsing through a sale of local machinery when I spotted an old Case tractor for sale. It had been owned by an old chap who had passed away. On inspection, the tractor is virtually fault free with the heater, radio, lights and even handbrake in good working order (unusual in this model as they’re operated by a small band in the gearbox which usually snaps when people drive off). Driving it to the in-laws was an absolute pleasure and I was quite reluctant to hand it over when I arrived. Fortunately, my father-in-law loves it, which is a great relief as I would never have heard the last of it otherwise. 

Also, at the sale where I bought the tractor I left some packs of ‘odd-sized’ timber, which all sold for good money. As I couldn’t attend the sale, I left a bid and so went along afterwards to collect the tractor and settle up, when I noticed a Lister generator that hadn’t sold. In a previous life the generator had been a back-up in a supermarket and little used. Its reserve was £400 which I knew full well was about a tenth of its value. 

Readers won’t be surprised to know I am now the owner of said generator which brings my total ownership of Lister generators to three. Is this how hoarding starts? If there are any Lister therapists out there I would be pleased to hear from you as I clearly have an obsession with the damn things!