The wood we gather is heavy. Typically it's harvested in the spring as the river washes all of the winters findings down to the Bering Sea. But this winter was cold and we ran out. So off my darling and I went in search of few logs to last us through winter- or in other words late May. Now my darling, being a typical man, told me to stand off as he handled these peices of wood. And now me, being the woman who never takes 'this is a man's job' for an answer, stepped up and lifted the log myself. It was terribly heavy. An entire tree practically. I stumbled and my entire body trembled as I forced myself to lift it into the sled. But I tell you what, the look on his face when I turned around was worth the pain my body left me with soon after.
