The Scene: bb and K are in bed with their coffee and tea and laptops.
bb: so many houses I admire have firewood storage in the living room!
K: ...(sips coffee)
bb: but no one ever has all that crap on the floor that comes with the firewood!
K: one needs bespoke firewood, like Doug has.
(Doug = our neighbor down the block, a Wall Street guy with seemingly limitless funds. He had firewood delivered last week, professionally stacked on his architecturally perfect front porch, with nary a wood-chip in sight. We get our firewood dumped at the end of the driveway and the five of us lug it onto our paint-peeled porch.)
First they power-wash the logs and then they let them dry for two years and plane them so they're perfectly shaped and stack immaculately.