Firewood is at the ready. The other morning, after my early morning meeting with my business partner and boyfriend (one in the same), I stopped by a local home to buy a truckload of firewood.
The seller, a resident of Denville, has piles of wood outside the front of his house along with a sign that says something to the effect of Firewood: cut and seasoned. Ready for burning. $3 per bag. Behind the pile is a lockbox where shoppers put the cash. It's on the honor system. I love this type of thing. It's reminiscent of a time when people trusted others, doors didn't need to be locked, and cookies were baked, not bought.
Over the weekend, my boyfriend and I went to pick up some wood for our campfire party. As Ward was loading up the truck, the homeowner approached us simply to say hello. He was a sweet, older gentleman who told us all about the wood and how good it was. I told him I'd be back to buy a bunch for the winter, and asked if he preferred a check, just in case the box was taken.
His reply, "Nah, I trust people." Lovely.