Dragoncaller (dragoncaller) wrote,

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It's that kind of day.

Oil pooling, forming a slow, wavey mirror like a 60's rock album. Gravel grind beneath my boots as I settle down on the stool. The tools clack against the casing as I open the hatches and peer in.


I pour oil in, watching it fold and wrap in a long, stringy cord like sickly green honey. The instruction manual is soaked in oil, so I peel back it's pages for the secret formula.

Pour 3.2 ounces of oil to one gallon of gas. Really? 3.2 ounces? Not 3.1, or 3.3, and 3.5 is right out. 3.2. Frelling chemistry! This is a frelling Chain saw! The most brutal construct in history. It growls and buzzes and rips and tears and carves bloody swatches through nature's green, farting out a plume of choking blue, grey as a final insult, and now I'm reaching for my chem set.

Of course the gas tank is 1.5 gallons. So now I'm doing bloody math.

These are Uncle Ralph's tools. His files, his stuff. They are on permanent loan to me. He can have them any time he wants them, but he'll have to come get them. I can't bring them to him where he's at.

He is here with me as I sit on the stool and tighten the chain. My hands move like his. I have a rag, cleaning away the wood dust. He was always neat, everything in its place.

I fire up the chain saw and go after the fallen tree that crosses my archery course. Everything here is over grown. I promised myself that as fall came I would do this and so I do.

Red chips spew sick from the chain's pass and cylinders shear off, thumping into the wet foliage. I cut through the small branches so I can safely stand to take on the big pieces. I crouch to save my back. Before each cut, I think about what I'm doing, where I'm cutting and most importantly, what's going to happen after the cut. This way, when the 30 pound log falls my feet are not beneath it, or if the tree is going to spring up like the list grasp of a zombie movie and take one last swipe at me.

But the tree fell all by itself. Its trunk rotted. That'll teach you to be made outta wood. Sheesh. Darwin was an idiot. Evolution is a farce.

I clean up the saw and put it away. I put Uncle Ralph's tools away, ready for the next time. I have a lot of work to do in the lower area, so they will see a bit of action in the next month.

There will be a lot of oil and the peppery smell that comes with it.
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