My grandpa and grandma on my step Dad's side heated their house with a fireplace in the family room and a 55 gallon drum he'd made into a stove in the kitchen. They had a gas range and oven but no running water in the house. He had an old red McCullough chain saw that you had to be a stud to use. No telling what that thing weighed. He worked on it EVERY time I saw him use it. It always seemed like he picked the biggest tree he could find (I got to load, unload, and stack and eventually split all that big ass wood). Man that old saw was loud too.
I was only eight when my Mom and I became part of that family. I followed him around trying to step in his footprints and to a large extent, still do.
But I don't work on my shit every time I have to use it. It makes me cuss when
i have to.
BKb