Most of my building experiences revolve around my family. Our house is often on fire, tiles falling from the ceiling, raised voices bouncing on walls. A few months ago, while picking up my daughter from her babysitting gig across town I noticed an old Oak tree had been felled across the street from the house where she was working. (She baby sits for her niece, my sister’s kid...family is everywhere in my life.) The tree was a gnarly old thing that had been sawed into 70lb logs. I nabbed as many as I could fit in the hatch of my pathfinder. (Spent the following weeks with excessive amount of saw dust and tree grit in the car. From then on I brought a painter’s tarp on my foraging trips to prevent this issue) Last summer I was taught how to split logs using wedges and gluts. These logs in particular were not the very first logs I attempted to split but were definitely early days. I worked on establishing that first crack for hours. I made multiple trips to Lowe’s to buy sets of iron wedges. Made multiple wood gluts which went on to completely shatter in the old twisted logs.