The Wood That Won't Fit In

 Robert Service wrote about men like that: 

"There's a race of men that don't fit in,

A race that can't stay still;

So they break the hearts of kith and kin,

And they roam the world at will."

They break the hearts of their kin. There is always wood that won't fit in, and I usually find it a year later when it is soaked, rotting, and maybe frozen to the ground, breaking my heart. Making firewood is sorta like getting the milk and cereal to come out even in the morning. Well, I am going out tomorrow to look for oyster mushrooms after the rain, fog, and warmth. Should I take one bag and not have enough room for all the mushrooms I find, or take two, which will jinx me and I won't find even one.