wood cutting
my (brilliantly clever) father turned labour into a game. see, we always had a ton or so of wood piled up in the garden for some sap (me) to chop hinto fire sized pieces. now, i didn't mind it, it was better than other chores, but it was still a chore. but then i got a bigger axe (note that i was about 8 when he gave me this razor sharp 'Proper' axe. his trust was incredible) rather than a little hand axe i'd been using. He said it was possible to split a match length ways laid on the log to be split and proved it. left me the box of matches, the axe and 2 tons of wood. by the end of the day i split every match i laid down.

"theres two tons of wood coming today. i wonder i..."
"I'LL DO IT!"

clever clever man...

and to all you buggers with paper rounds. Me too, on the steepest hill you have ever seen. 5 rows of houses, all the supplements and local papers on a saturday and sunday morning. farms out in the hills too. for 75p a day. and on a week day i had to have it done by 7:45 so i could catch the bus to school and somethimes the papers only arrived at half seven. detention for absence or lateness (after getting a bollocking from parents because i had missed the first bus which was 'my fault' ) meant missing the only bus home so would get a bllocking from the parents for making them drive half an hour each way to come and get me after THEY had eaten tea and i'd stood in the dark alone outside school for 2 hours hungry and knowing i was about to get a bollocking. when i wised up and said i was leaving the owner of the shop cried till i backed down. for another year...

i only did it cause my parents were skint and it bought books and stuff for school. mind you, wasn't as bad as some of you. i'll shut up now...
(unlawful odour i dunno..., Fri 17 Feb 2006, 16:41, Reply)