A chore I secretly enjoy is gathering firewood. Especially at this time of year, during dry periods, when it's relatively warm, bug-free, gorgeous amidst the fallen leaves and the weathered stones.
Spent the day stomping around the creekbed, sectioning a fallen sycamore trunk with brief bursts from a roaring chainsaw, carrying the sections up into the wheelbarrow, and trundling it down the bank to be sorted out in various wood piles, inside and out.
A small accomplishment, but a real one.
Kit Stolz 