Cherry-picking

When I bought a wheelbarrow-load of offcuts from a chap clearing out his shed last week, he said I could help myself to some other stuff destined for the wood burner. Since I wasn't the one pushing the wheelbarrow, I placed a substantial half-log on top of the pile. Happily, it turned out to be a piece of old cherry but, like the ash I mentioned last time, it has been attacked by wood-boring beetles. Today, I split the piece lengthways and began axing and planing to salvage what was sound.
I absolutely love cutting into cherry - the aroma is as sweet as cherry pie (or perhaps marzipan) and shavings emerge like strips of copper foil. Well, I had better enjoy the wood in these respects as best I can, because I'll be lucky to glean sufficient timber from this to make a spatula. Those wood-boring beetles had been building a tunnel system to rival the London underground. But I'm determined to save something - this lump of cherry hadn't spent 20 years in a shed just to go up in flames.