Today was pretty quiet and I don't have a lot to report. It was sunny and in the 40s for most of the day, and was quite nice out. We've lost a lot of snow again in the past we days. I broke up and grilled my remaining chicken, chopped some deadfall, and now I'm watching The Great Escape, which is still one of the finest films ever made, and it is unlikely that anyone will ever be as cool as Steve McQueen.
My chicken is awesome. I did a little dry rub and made a Carolina mustard sauce for it, then enjoyed it with no utensils and a pile of paper towels. The plan was to birch-smoke it, but the smoke birch produces is just too acrid, even if it's been soaking for a while, so I just grilled at low temperature. I enjoy breaking down chickens, I realized today, almost as much as I like chopping wood, and for good reason: they're fundamentally the same activity, partitioning big things into useful little things with something sharp. And there's often blood involved in both. I could be the world's first butcher/lumberjack author.
I need to bust the chainsaw tomorrow, since one of the two remaining portions of the woodpile consists entirely of birch too big for the fireplace. Whee to that.
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