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February 23, 2002 - Saturday

My bringing wood in from the garage and putting it in hearth's wood rack is a big event for Harry and if he's anywhere on the first floor of the house he'll know it's coming as soon as I go out into the back hallway. Lately, he'll see me go out there and come running out to the garage after me to watch me load the wood into the carrying bag. Then, as I come back into the house, Harry will run ahead screaming as loud as he can this phrase of warning to all concerned inside. I've never seen him, of course, because I'm behind him, but his mother says his arms flail above his head as he comes racing through the door and around the corner into the living room. Of course, I am carrying a lot of weight and Harry's advice to all potential bystanders is indeed very prudent, although I suspect the thrill of running through the house yelling as loud as possible is Harry greater personal satisfaction. He still "helps" me unload the wood, but I can tell this activity no longer holds the same appeal, the new and true excitement of getting wood having already just passed.

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