Every so often I'll smell burning wood and think of the times my brother and I , on a Sunday morning , used to be dragged out in the winter to the woods by my dad to clear brush away while he cut up and split the limbs and fallen trees . We lived in an old drafty farmhouse and it was heated by a wood furnace that was the size of a locomotive . We dreaded it , it was cold and tough and once we got a load we would have to take it home and throw it down into the basement then rank it . Then go after another load . The smells of chainsaw gas and oil and fresh sawdust was eveywhere . This chainsaw he used was called a Maul. It was a huge cast aluminum and steel beast . How he wrangled that thing around for hours was beyond me . I dredded Sundays in the fall and winter and early spring in the early 1960's . Dad died about 5 years ago from the big C . He said "thats what 60 years of smoking will do to ya . " I sure am glad I got the chance to be with him out there in the woods . I remember him as a young strong intelligent man who worked the living crap out of us and molded my brother and I into young adults that could go out and earn our way .