The sight of logging trucks on roads around here is a common occurrence. If you're behind them, that's one thing, but if they're coming towards you you better give them a wide berth. Ever since we've lived in our home we've burned wood. We have four fireplaces, but we only ever used one and that was just briefly. The woodstove in the kitchen is where we burn wood these days, always have. You can't beat a good woodstove fire. These days, for the most part, we get it cut, split and delivered. However, there was a time when we got it delivered in tree lengths in trucks like this. RN, who lived in Pownal, delivered with his big rig. He was quite the character. He had few teeth, looked like he visited a razor about once a month, chuckled constantly and always wanted to share some crazy highlight of his day with me. He looked quite a bit older than me, but in reality he was 15 years my junior. Sad really. A hard life chasing the bottle can age a man quickly. As I remember, he was a hard man to track down too. I called him constantly trying to line up a delivery. My guess is that he had a few creditors and ex-wives chasing him down. They might have taken a larger toll than the bottle. Yet, I was always happy to see his rig heading up back with that smile and wave. After he left, it was just me and my trusty Husqvarna on sweaty July days. RN is gone and so are those days.