It's time to buy a chainsaw.

The idea of such a purchase in our family has always been akin to the thought of picking up a rocket launcher: you know that someone, somewhere, has to do it, but it won't happen in this unit.

But the land (20 acres) the cabin sits on has so much wood (both standing and already down) that the temptation to go into action is hard to ignore.

Plus the value of wood is rising each year.

Lumber mills want product; homeowners with stoves and fireplaces are paying more each year because the price of oil is on a bender.

So this weekend I went shopping.

Full disclosure: the venue was Wal-Mart.

And it wasn't a fruitful visit.

I saw one line of saws from a Japanese manufacturer that seemed to name its models after cartoon figures: they were selling "the Wood Shark" and "the Wild One."

No way.

I checked out the Remington line. This company offers electric saws, but the limitations of being connected to a power source when you are walking deep into the forest are obvious.

(But then, the 12-inch model only costs $37).

Your Scribe is also considering a Stihl, one of the top brands.

It is sold by the small-machine company that tunes up my snowblower.

But first I must overcome a funk I have been in since Noveber.

The proprietor charged $183 to tune up my very-small blower - after three straight years of billing me $60.

And they forgot to reinstall a belt, so that the blower didn't displace as much as a flake during the first storm.

So I am still a little cranky.

If I do purchase a chainsaw, the supposition by family members is that I will slice off a digit, or even an appendage.

At this rate, that concern is moot.

There is no chainsaw to do me harm.

But I plan to continue looking, because I am frustrated at seeing all that downed wood cluttering the land that slopes toward the river.

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