To Be, or Knot To Be

More wind and rain is predicted for today (the wind definitely arrived during the night, rain still pending).  It seemed prudent to restock the porch rack with firewood yesterday while it was dry outside.  I'd been in such a hurry to get the woodpile tarped the other day in the wind that I was doing whatever it took to get it tied down.  I knew when I did it that the square knot I'd wanted had slipped into a granny knot, but had to move on to the next grommet fast.  Knowing I'd goofed, I made sure the rest of the tie-downs were made with secure square or even surgeon's knots as I moved around the stack.  Yesterday, sure enough, the granny had lost its grip and the twine was lying there limp and it might have been my imagination, but I think the grommet eye was giving me an accusatory look.  Steve was an Eagle Scout and drove truck for a number of years and he would have been so ashamed.  Trying for redemption, I retied the knot and loaded the wagon three times as punishment (and insurance).

On the same subject and the reason I mentioned that Steve drove truck, there is a most handy hitch called a trucker's knot, very useful for tying up a package of this or that because it can easily be undone with a single tug, but will tighten itself if the contents threaten to come loose.  I'd seen Steve make this knot hundreds of times, but he'd never shown me exactly how it was done.  On my own, as the need arose I had to figure out how to do it by myself, counting on memory.  Mine might be only a reasonable facsimile, but it works.  Instructions are available online, and I highly recommend learning how; it certainly comes in handy.  It wasn't necessary while tarping the woodpile because I won't need to save the twine and will just cut it as I use wood and fold back the covering.

It hasn't been particularly cold these last few days, but the almost constant wind has sucked heat out of the house and so I've had the wood stove fired up all day.  Ralph and Celeste have staked their claim to places right by the hearth, leaving Bess to jam herself into my chair and I'm left perched on the edge.  Whatever it takes.