What to do on Saturday

The Footless man has in his provident way, managed to muck up the driveway with some purported firewood.  It comes from  some downed trees a few blocks away that someone cut down and into pieces. Most likely they have been wondering what the hell to do with the wood ever since.
The Footless man saw it sitting there and went out with the RAW*  and did a bit of salvage.

I would be a whole lot happier with the whole thing If it was any kind of wood that was any good to burn.  As it is I am less than thrilled because it is elm ** and poplar#. 
Among the chores that the Footless man asked me to do over the past week included:

1. Finding  the chainsaw, 
2. rousting the multitudes of spiders that had taken up residence in the case ( the Footless man feels about spiders like I feel about tomato worms, he screams like a girl at the wolf spider that lives in the bathtub, and  these were black widows) 
3. getting the proper oil for the gas,
4. prospecting for a non leaking gas can in The Hoard##,
5. getting the gas,
6. finding the proper ratio of oil to gas on the internet, 
7. Locating a funnel and holding the funnel while he decanted gas, 
8. and trying to locate a users manual for the saw on the net. 

None of it hard to do, just sandwiched in between rows of a sock, a conversation with Thursdays child, phone calls with the Erstwhile child and enlivened by the kind of headache that makes me want to pop my eyes out and trade them for glass ones. The chainsaw has not been run for ten years at least, and seems unwilling to start now.  The last I saw of the Footless Man he was harrumphing out to the wood heap with a bow saw.  I assume this means that the chainsaw will not run today.
*   Rent-a-Wino.  My politically incorrect but accurate title  for the guy who does odd jobs for the Footless Man.  He is a very nice guy with a huge dog, a kind heart, a good work ethic after noon, a load of stories, and a taste for cheap wine.
**smolders and doesn't burn
# stinks worse than cottonwood
##  The Footless Man's eclectic collection of entirely disorganized Good Stuff.

It lives in the garage and tries really hard to sneak into the house.  We have ( at last count) more than fifty screwdrivers, and equal amounts of most other hand tools.  This includes cabinets full of hell boxes, and an amazing conglomerate of odd things including a plaster camel, the odd stuffed animal, and a series of vacuum cleaners.  Up until last November the cabinets that now live in the kitchen lived out there, waiting renovations.