Memory Triggers

Somethings have the ability to trigger memories and so it was today as I continued my garden clean. As I finished chopping the kindling I recalled as a boy helping my Dad on Saturday mornings with the ‘Logging’.
My Dad would saw and I’d wheel some of the logs home in my own mini wheelbarrow alongside my Dad with his. I wasn’t allowed to split the logs, not strong enough, nor was I allowed to get too close, flying splinters, but I could collect the split logs and stack them the stowage.
The memory was so strong I momentarily stopped and recalled those days with a fondness that took me by surprise.

These days my logs are delivered sawn, split and kiln dried, I wonder what my Dad would have made of that.