Yesterday afternoon, Lisa and I decided to move the pile of split poplar, it being the worst of the log-pile eyesores on account of it's in the front yard. (The other two — maple and cedar — are in the middle field and not immediately visible from the road.) So Lisa got the John Deere and wheeled the utility trailer over to the pile. Working together, it didn't take us too long to shift the wood into the trailer, but as we did so, we had to keep knocking mud, worms, and such from the wood that has sat there for some months, and we could see that everything on the bottom of the pile was still pretty wet. This log pile has been sitting in a place that doesn't get direct sunlight for much of the year. So rather than move it directly to the woodshed, Lisa drove the trailer into an exposed area of the yard and parked it. With no rain forecast until Thursday at the earliest, we'll let the logs sit in the sun for a couple of days before stowing them.
I have some hope that we might also get the maple logs moved as well, which would leave only the split cedar to shift. I'm afraid I'll probably have to leave that to Lisa to do, which is unfortunate because it goes more than twice as fast with two people doing it than with one. Although I'll not get any more wood split on this trip due to my injured thumb (it's really difficult to swing the splitting maul when your right thumb doesn't want to grip), I'd feel better if we got all of the already-split wood under cover for the winter.
I've observed that I've been much more willing to do the hard physical labor of keeping this property maintained these past few years than I was when I was in my thirties. Probably if I'd been less lazy then, I'd have to worry less about diabetes now.