I’ll always be better at figuring out a subway map. First, there’s the subway, a place I’ve known since I was a tike. And then there’s that thing called a map, another word for set of instructions. The mysteries, if there are any, are temporary. Just find stuff on the map and plot a course. It’s where all the answers are.
When there are no maps, though, where do you go for answers? Where’s the order? Where are the common threads?
Take firewood. In my world, when you call up the firewood guy and ask for a cord of wood (what ever that is), all the little burnable pieces come during the day when you are away at work. When you get home, all that stuff is in a neat pile. Over the course of the winter you light matches under the wood (with maybe a few pieces of newspaper to help) and, voila, you have fire.
It’s a different story in these parts. When you order wood here, you get half a forest. Neighbor Bill had warned me, asking a few weeks ago how strong I was feeling and if I might like to help him split wood. Jeeez, Bill…I can help, but this looks like a full-time job!
I don’t know what his plan is but I’m sure I’ll hear about it tomorrow.