Daughter 1 asked if we could ever have a treehouse up here. No, probably not. All strong trees around us are conifers, meaning principally one main trunk, which is hard to build a treehouse in. (Well, come to think of it, if we had a dead tree with a wide circumference we might pull it off; but I have another plan.) So while the kids shelved their plans for a treehouse, I got to looking at a dead birch to the north of the house.

It has four trunks, the largest of which is probably 12 inches in diameter. If I lopped them off all at the same level, say six feet above the ground, I could probably construct a frame that would balance on them pretty well. Neighbor Tim has some scrap lumber he’s said I could have for this purpose.

Then a few weeks ago while the snow was still high, I wrestled my Husqvarna out of the shoop, cranked it up, snowshoed out to the tree–and the saw died. It was not to be persuaded. I wanted to cut the trunks high up enough for a treehouse, using the snow to boost me up, but ’twas not to be.

I mentioned to Adam at church about my chain saw woes, and he said, “How long since you’ve cleaned the air filter?” Huh? “Do you blow it out after every use?” Huh? So he agreed to show me a few tips about saw maintenance, besides the sharpening and bar oil and the right fuel/additive mix I knew about. So I threw the saw in the Jeep and after work yesterday, Adam showed me how to take the saw apart. Glory be, look at that air filter. And yech, look at that old gasoline in the tank. (I did add some Sta-Bil at the end of last season.) So we cleaned the air filter and looked at the spark plug (fine) and tested the compression (good) and tightened the chain (knew that needed doing) and lo and behold, it started right up jes’ like the good old days. Thanks Adam! What can I help you with? Oh, nothing, says he.

So when I get a minute (and the kids aren’t around) I’ll pop out and drop those old birches, even though the snow is lower than it used to be. Of course, the kids will hear the noise and see me from the upstairs windows, and run out to ask me what I’m doing.

I can say we needed the firewood, which is true.

Just don’t tell them what I’m really up to.