Chopping a log

Not chopping logs generally, which is a bit of a chore to be honest.

It might be different of course if I could manage a passable homo-erotic pose, rippling torso, axe glinting in the sun, sweat on the brow, like a proper Hollywood cowboy, or a diet coke advert or even Robbie Williams in that Fast show
sketch. But the way I do it is more like Oliver Hardy meets Lee Evans by way of much puffing about nothing, axe firmly embedded halfway down the log, and me on the floor with puzzled dog licking my face.

However, yesterday at 3:20 precisely, for the first time ever the axe flew true and hard and split a log perfectly in two in one deeply satisfying money-shot blow. A proper man at last, Woof.


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