Pellets Conundrum Solved

 As it turns out, stacking the forty-pound bags of pellets in my basement is easier than I thought: I just need to call my son. Being a good soul, he's worried about me carrying the heavy bags in by myself and always offers to help, although I've tended to put aside his offers through a serious of lame excuses, at least until I've (over a period of about two months) carried them in on my own. I suppose it's vanity on my part, but also a sincere desire to not be a burden on others (yes, my father left me quite insane on that front). However, in the end, his desire to help out won out. One day he and his friend Seth showed up and in no time at all managed to carry in 1.8 tons. A couple days later he showed up again, although he did allow me to help (and that's about all I can say about my effort, my weakening legs making any sort of equal partnership impossible). We loaded a ton in about an hour, which, left to my own devices, would have taken me at least a week and a half. 

I suppose there was a time when I could casually carry eighty pounds on my shoulder like that, although it's not within distant memory (if ever). I would carry one forty-pound bag, in the time that he lapped me, carrying two forty-pound bags, Using my limited Hoosier math skills, that means that I was contributing about twenty-percent to the project (which is pretty good for me).

Because there were two of us, we took the approach of carrying them up near the driveway and he handed them down to me in the basement to stack. He did compliment me on my stacking skills. When it's just me, I have to carry them bag by bag to the other side of the cabin and through the backdoor, which is definitely a slower process.

This is my usual helper/supervisor, Miss Mollie. She is definitely unimpressed by my efforts.