Have Fire, will Socialize

In the annals of our friendship history, John Vielee will no doubt have his own chapter. A couple weeks ago, he announced that we are not going to let cold weather stop us from safely socializing as we work through what we hope is the tail end of the coronavirus pandemic.

"We'll be doing this in the snow," he declared a couple weeks ago as we gathered around their firepit. Lisa and I, layered, blanketed and huddled around the fire, debated how long we'd last as the mercury drops.

"I think we'll acclimate," Lisa claimed. 

I'm a chronic complainer in the winter because I really hate being cold, but I nodded along in solidarity but also drew so close to the fire that I may have scorched my knock-off  Uggs.

We have a chimenea, which is great for maybe three people, but won't allow bigger, safe gatherings, so Jeff and I went firepit shopping. He was already planning a beer share as the weekend was unseasonably warm, but I thought we should act before there were no firepits to buy. And with two heating elements, I could have a friend over as well -- someone who could have a conversation that didn't focus on the subtle nuances of this beer or that.

Part of the conversation included our short supply of firewood and how we needed to fix that if we were going to have any more driveway gatherings. Seconds after that discussion began,  Kirsten (she and Duane are also contenders for their own chapter) announced that she has a co-worker who had just offered free firewood. 

"But you have to go to Muncie and you have to have your own chainsaw," she reported as she kept reading. the message. I texted John to see if he'd help, and he replied right away that he was in.

Now, the beer half of the driveway was probably in double digits with their craft beer sharing and I was deep into a bottle of red wine, so I probably shouldn't have reached out to John. And Kirsten and I probably shouldn't have gone ahead and made the deal to show up the next morning to get the wood. But we did. I'm pretty sure that neither Jeff nor Duane fully realized what they'd agreed to. 

In any event, when morning rolled around at my house, Jeff was moving slowly. He'd not come to be until 3 a.m.  I don't know what time Duane got home, but I think I woke him up when I texted to remind them that despite the steady drizzle outside the road trip to Muncie was about to begin and he was part of the caravan.

This is what we started with.

My job was to acquire food and pick up sticks and logs as John and Jeff fired up their dueling chainsaws and took on the tree. They stopped when we ran out of room in John's truck and our Subaru.

John and I want to go back with a crane or other, smaller tools, that could help us get the stump and make it into a super cool table. Most of the wood won't likely be useable as firewood until next year as the tree was only recently felled. 

As we carted out the wood to fill up the vehicles, knowing that we still had to unload it, John and I ruminated as to whether the Muncie road trip was actually a good idea. You'll remember it was a plan fueled with wine and craft beer, so I'm not going to even try to defend it. But it's always fun to hang out with John, so I'm chalking it up as a fun work out in the fresh air.

We still have to stack all the wood, but it's been raining since last night, so I'll have plenty of time to rest up my back before we have to get to that work. Today, I'm cleaning the basement bedroom as Ali and Jason are coming home on Tuesday. We'll have a small Thanksgiving here, but we'll make the most of it.

If you want to come by, just know it'll be a driveway gathering. Instead of food, bring firewood and we'll prolong the visit. I'll supply the matches and the blankets.