From October onwards our French neighbour busies himself from dawn to dusk moving, cutting and meticulously stacking his woodpile. Trailor loads of metre long logs are trundled down to the designated area and arranged in a geometric style that would please any maths teacher.
For several weeks the ritual continues until at least a year's worth of logs have been accumulated and stacked. The end is result is very impressive. In France, wood is measured in 'stères' or cubic metres and even a modest house can burn several stères a year, hence the need to constantly replenish stocks and make sure wood is seasoned.
Woodpiles are something of an obsession in rural France. As much part of French life as growing and preserving produce.
Does size matter? Apparently so. The bigger and longer the better! A woodpile it seems is a symbol of masculinity. Hunter-gatherer at it's most basic level.
We haven't needed much wood this year. So far the winter has been mild. I'll go and touch wood!
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