Same here.
30 cubic meters of hardwood, year after year.
I split everything by hand, but have a system modeled on the California penal code: 3 strikes and you are out.
If I have whaked a chunk 3 times with no effect, it goes in the pile for the hydrulic 30 ton splitter.
Last year it was less then 3 cubic meters. the rest was taken care of by my old, inherited maul.
Paul Plewa, the guy who gave it to me and honed me into a fast faller, died last sunday.
Good thing. He was in bad shape, and after being forced to quit the old homestead and move to town, his life really sucked. Last summer he told me that getting old was really over rated.Dementia was getting the better of him, too, so I was glad to hear that he is gone.
For some obscure reason the family decided to have a church burial for him, so I didn't attend.
I felt that was really disregarding his own wishes. Paul was the son of Polish immigrants. When he was 13 the local catholic minister showed up and tried to browbeat his mom into having him confirmed in the church. Paul threatened to whip the guys ass, if he didn't go away and leave his mom alone.
At age 13!!!!!!
So I felt that the best way for me to honor him was to do what he taught me so well, so I worked a bit harder than usual and thought of him.
Best logger by far, that I have ever come across, and I've known a few.