Why didn't the dendrochronologist get married? All he ever dated was trees! What's the difference between an environmentalist and a developer? The environmentalist already has his house in the mountains. Once upon a time, there were two lumberjacks, named Smith and Do-Dah. These two lumberjacks became best friends, doing everything together. They ate together (while working, of course), worked together, played together and even got married on the same day. Every day, after saying goodbye to their wives, they would head for the woods to cut down trees. After a while, they developed a routine way of doing things. Smith would climb up into the tree, and cut the top part off, called "topping the tree". Then when he had climbed down, Do-Dah would cut down the tree itself. They did this routine for over thirty years. As the years went by, Do-Dah started to lose his hearing. One day, Smith topped off the tree and yelled "Timber!" to let his friend know the top part was coming down. Do-Dah didn't hear him and the falling tree top landed on him. Seeing that his friend was caught under the tree top, Smith rushed down the tree crying "Do-Dah! Do-Dah! My friend! Are you all right?" But it was too late. His friend was dead. After sitting and crying for a while, Smith decided he needed to go and tell Do-Dah's wife that her husband was dead. As he walked thru the woods, towards her house, he kept thinking, over and over, "What am I gonna tell this poor woman? How do I tell her that her husband is dead???" Before he knew it, he was standing outside her door, and still didn't know how to tell her. Just then, the door opened. It was Mrs. Do-Dah, leaving to go shopping. She was surprised to see Smith standing there, and asked, "Why, hello Mr. Smith. What can I do for you today??" Smith was speechless and just stood there and looked at her. Finally, from somewhere deep inside him, Smith began to sing. "Guess who died in the woods today...Do-Dah, Do-Dah." Back around the turn of the century, said Zeddie Gillenwater of Sumerco, some West Virginia farmers often sold virgin timber to mills but had a difficult time getting their logs delivered. One inexpensive way was to pile logs in a creek and wait for a big rain. When the water came up, the logs formed a "raft" and the farmer floated them to the mill. Because a lot of farmers were doing this, the logs piled up and mixed together, so the individuals "branded" their wood. One such farmer, a fellow called Joggie-Eye, was late getting to his logs one morning after a big rain. When he arrived at the creek, his timber was gone. Joggie-Eye took off along the creek. Every unmarked log he found, he put his mark on it. "Hey, Joggie-Eye," another farmer yelled at him, "those aren't your logs. Stop branding them." "My logs vanished last night and these must be them," the brander replied. "They can't be your logs, Joggie-Eye. These logs are way upstream from your place." "Well," said the farmer, continuing to brand, "my logs left in the night and I'm not sure which way they went." A little withered old man walks into a timber company office, and applies for a job as a lumberjack. The foreman politely tries to talk him out of the idea. After all, he is old, small, and apparently much too weak to fell trees. The old man picks up an axe and walks over to a huge redwood. As he goes to work, a high pitched whine comes from the axe, chips of wood fly everwhere, and the odor of burning wood fills the air. In record time, the old man is finished chopping down the tree. "That's just astounding," the forman says, "wherever did you learn to chop down trees like that?" "Well now," the old man smiles, "have you ever heard of the Sahara Forest?" "You mean the Sahara Desert." "Sure, that's what it's called NOW..." |
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