The rest after the rest

Once upon a midnight dreary, as I pondered weak and weary,
Over many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore
While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping,
As of someone gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door.

The alarm goes off. It's our third day of wood processing and it starts by shovelling sawdust from a few weeks ago out of the trailer on a cloud of early morning midges.

We're at work on time, but within an hour the processor is broken again. That's the final straw - we chop the remaining lengths in half, cart them up to the house and defer the final processing until another day.

We're done by 4:00 and Gordy scoots off home. Ivan comes up to the house for oysters and whisky (singular - he's driving). I pull onions (see yesterday), ferry Megan and fiddle with the swarm that I deposited in the top bar hive a couple of weeks ago.

Tomorrow is another day - and it's just around the corner.