Improvised Kiln-Dried Firewood

A brainwave today has I hope made some huge lumps of ash burner-ready well in advance of their natural drying time. I was burning a load of old papers, credit-card slips etc, in our garden incinerator - one of those holey dustbins with a chimney in the lid. I balanced some of the big bits of ash on the top, turning them regularly to avoid them setting alight, though they still scorched a bit. The results are quite pleasing - the six pieces feel dry enough to burn without worrying about clogging the chimney with moist deposits. 

Don't for goodness' sake try this on the burner itself btw - I did an experiment, monitored very closely, and within a minute or so the wood on top showed signs of smoldering. Round the sides, a few inches away from touching the burner, is in my experience fine, though I always feel better keeping an eye on things. 

Years ago holidaying in a gite with friends at Easter we dried a couple of substantial logs at the side of a big open fireplace. Every night the other guy and I struggled to light the fire, to much comment from our wives. When we asked if they could do a better job on the last evening they more or less set a match to the by then dessicated logs which burst into flame as if soaked in paraffin. So drying's worth the effort. 

Death of the Ash

This post is not in any way meant to celebrate the forthcoming slaughter of the ash trees across the country as the dreaded die back fungus takes hold. The sad prospect of large numbers of trees being felled and then burned does prompt a question or two about what will happen to the wood. Does it have to be burned under controlled conditions? If so, what are they? Or will there be a sudden glut of ash firewood on the market? If the wood from trees felled to beat (some hope) the fungus does make it to market, will wood-burner makers see a sudden upsurge in business with prices for the fuel falling?

We have been given a portion of our neighbour's ash that came down recently, only fair as it came down on our nearly new shed. It is usable when green supposedly, though we intend other than with kindling to leave it  until next year's burning season. And it splits really easily, even huge slices across the bottom part of the trunk can be broken down with a few lusty blows of my somewhat blunt axe. Our greenhouse, empty at this time of year of plants, is currently full of netting sacks full of the wood in a variety of thicknesses, from chunks that will burn for an hour to kindling via firewood sticks, the hope being that the wood dries more quickly in there. It's an ill wind and all that.

A Dead Summer and Dying Trees

Is it coincidence or causality? Over the last couple of horribly wet months we have lost a tree, an old fruitless fruit tree that one day we noticed was gradually tipping over; and last week our next door neighbours lost two thirds of a huge ash - both thirds making our garden, the first taking out a bit of fence and scaring the chickens, the second utterly destroying the roof and severely damaging one wall of a year-old shed. Amicable discussions ensued, a new shed will replace it and we trust a piece of fencing. A month back a silver birch two doors down had to be removed before it toppled.

I wonder if the sodden ground accelerated these losses? And if the run of four or five wet summers here caused the rot to set in? This is a lovely leafy area, but becoming less so as such trees are lost. We have planted a quince, Victoria plum and greengage, but they will take a while to become established, and many years before they have anything like the architectural impact of the ash and the birch.  Maybe they never will, as the fear must be that this weather-pattern has set in and the ground will be this way off and on for the foreseeable.

It's an ill wind, however. Ash may not be the hottest-burning wood, but you can just about use it green, and we have room to dry it out - our neighbour is very happy to leave us the use of the wood that fell into our garden. So more bloody wood chopping, but later more wonderful warmth and warm smells from the stove in the dining room.