Cutting and splitting logs always takes me back to when I was a kid of 10 or 12. My Dad and I often used to spend an hour or two, out in one of the outbuildings (it was a farm), cutting ash logs with a big two-man crosscut and then splitting them. We'd talk about all sorts of stuff while we were doing this – like tractors, bikes, building radios, wheel building, all sorts of good and useful things.
We didn't have electricity out there either in those days, so it was always accompanied by the hiss of a pressure lantern. My Dad was good with an axe (and never hesitated to tell me so), and was always warning me of the dangers of "over reaching" and damaging the handle, and telling me to "look where you want to hit and you will".
As a matter of fact, I'll be using what was his favourite axe to split some logs later today – and still with his hand-made handle too. It's one of my most treasured possesions, sentimental old fool that I am….
