Chinook by George M Hosier II - Firewood
I sit at my keyboard, overcome by an acute attack of bafflement. Although I am above the norm in my ability to remain nonplussed when encountering particularly bizarre or inexplicably illogical behavior by a fellow member of the human race, even I have my limits. Consequently, when I passed my buddy Grant on my way to town, what I beheld severely overloaded my credulity banks.
Grant had always struck me as a regular guy. He has a sweet wife and two cute little kids. He holds down a respectable job and volunteers at civic events. He has good credit. He doesn’t kick his dog or play loud music at night. He even keeps his car vacuumed and waxed. What I saw today, however, has created a massive paradigm shift in my opinion of Grant’s normalcy, if not his very sanity. Unbelievably, Grant was driving his battered blue clunker truck, stacked high with fresh cut firewood!
We invite you to our Chinook pages to read the entire story and others.
Grant had always struck me as a regular guy. He has a sweet wife and two cute little kids. He holds down a respectable job and volunteers at civic events. He has good credit. He doesn’t kick his dog or play loud music at night. He even keeps his car vacuumed and waxed. What I saw today, however, has created a massive paradigm shift in my opinion of Grant’s normalcy, if not his very sanity. Unbelievably, Grant was driving his battered blue clunker truck, stacked high with fresh cut firewood!
We invite you to our Chinook pages to read the entire story and others.

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