Wednesday, December 30, 2009


I grew up a loggers daughter, and now despite my best efforts, I am a loggers wife. It's a feast or famine industry. Either its logging season, he's working as many hours as can legally be fit into a day/week, we never see him, and we have money or it's break up and we're dirt poor and he's home 24 hours a day, wishing he was at work. Right now, it's full swing logging season and the only way I get to spend any amount of time with him is to go to work. Yesterday, me and Toby went for a ride. We had to get up at the crack of 6 am... (it's the Christmas holidays, the're only hauling one load a day, so he gets to sleep in from his usual 2am start time)

She slept or stared blankly the whole way to the block.

If you think the ride in on the goat trail seems bad, try it on the way out! The heavily loaded trailer pulls and pushes your truck around as your trying to navigate the bumpy, skinny little road that winds it's way around gullies, and over over one lane bridges, barely wide enough for your truck.

Smoke Break. I should ride with him everyday, he doesn't smoke while we're in the truck with him, so he only had three that whole day!

Back onto the main road, its snowing and blowing so hard, you can't seen the other trucks coming until they are really close...

...and you're not sure if theres room enough for both trucks on the road. I really don't know how he does this for a living, every day, without us there to entertain him.

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