Completely stumped by Scotland’s nature

Give men a dishwasher to empty and it will take a while, give them an axe or a saw and the world’s their oyster, says Fiona

It is a macho thing, of course. As is talk of wedges, winches and wires

It is a typical Saturday morning. Two men sitting round the kitchen table – discussing size. Because size matters.

‘Mine’s 18 inches,” the chief says proudly.

My brother counters: “oh, that’s a waste of space. The one I use is far bigger…”

It is a macho thing, of course. As is talk of wedges, winches and wires.

Then there are splitters – to cut the knot end, not the open end. I am also informed that it is important to keep checking chain tension.

Because when it comes to toppling trees it is not just a pride thing.

When it comes to felling firs it can be a matter of life and death. Literally.

“Go on YouTube and watch the chainsaw disasters,” my brother gleefully tells the MacGregor.

He does. And he sees trees that have squashed houses. Trees that have sliced cars in half.

Not that this deters, of course. Because, as I have alluded to before, men like to chop things down.

They may not be that keen on the more routine, safer jobs. On feeding the birds, or emptying the dish washer.

But give a man an axe, or put a toothy petrol-driven saw in his hands, and he becomes a super-charged work machine.

All competitive and revved up, he is ready to go.

My brother is up from the south, visiting our parents in their new lochside home.

He is impressed. Not just by the views and the warmth of their abode. But also by the volume of snow banked up against the side of roads.

Here are drifts the size of hedges. Freezing temperatures keeping this blackened debris of a blizzard hanging stubbornly on.

Roll on spring. And yet, hang on, this is spring. Roll on summer…

Meanwhile, back in the kitchen enthusiastic wood talk continues – and I sense a chance.

Casually, I throw into the conversation the old tree trunk that sits opposite the house.

This sorry-looking stump is vast. It once supported a mighty oak. But some years ago age and the elements took its top away. Weeds now grow out of its sides while rabbits make homes beneath knotty roots.

For the MacNaughties this underground den of thieves provides endless hours of digging. They know they’re in there. The question is, how to get them out?

Now, I have no wish to put a stop to canine fun, but, frankly, it is an eyesore and one that annoys.

So, with husband and brother in full chopping swing, I lament the fact that this stump is simply too big to sort. Too daunting to tackle with our simple saws.

And I sit back and watch as gleams come into eyes. “I could get that out.” “I’d cut it by the roots, and put a rope to a tractor.”

“Shall I bring up my really big saw next time?” my brother asks.

The chief bristles. “No, it’s alright. Mine will do the job.”

Watch this space – or rather, watch this stump…

by Fiona Armstrong