Warning: pictures on this post may not be suitable for the squeamish. Don't say I didn't warn you.
Me and my best friend, the wood splitter.
Since I have Crohn's Disease, I have hollowed out a log I can sit on when I'm "having a bout." We call it the Splitter Shitter.
I have big muscles because I can hurl chunks of wood around with one arm, which gives whole new meaning to the phrase 'hurling chunks.'
Two years ago we had a load of logs delivered. Just today I finally finished splitting that load. Today. We still have enough wood for the better part of a winter season. Still, we have to keep ahead... wood, like soup, needs seasoning. So we had another load of logs delivered a while ago. There's Dave, chopping up the blocks with his new Stihl. See all those logs behind him? I'll still be splitting those babies two years from now.
Bet you don't know what you'll be doing two years from now...
Put your breakfast down, Betty, here comes the yucky part. That there white thing hiding in the wood is a grub. Fat, white, gray and disgusting, I call these things wood shrimp. They hide in the groady logs waiting for me to split them open so they can fall freely onto the floor of the splitter, startling me and making me want to throw up. I invariably squeal like a girl whenever one of these plumb beauties falls in front of me.
This is why I don't eat shrimp. I wouldn't even kiss you if you recently had a shrimp in your mouth. Does this in any way look appetizing?
Mmmmm, add some cocktail sauce and dip in. Puree it in a blender and add it to cream cheese. Steam a few and toss them into your pasta.
Oh yeah, baby, now we're talking.
Do you like quinoa? How about rice? Or tapioca?
This nest of sleepy ants and larvae/eggs/whatever fell out of the very last block of wood I split from two years ago.
Gag me seriously blind.
All done for the day. Only another two years of splitting and our work here will be done.
Now it's time for a back and neck massage, a shoulder massage, a hot bath and some mouthwash and a mind erase
to get rid of the images of those hideous insects.
To all you friday flashers who like to write horror I say split some wood with me and you'll know the true meaning of the word.