When referring to oak as a hardwood, there's really nothing metaphorical about that

We had a huge, dead oak in our backyard that had to be taken down last fall before we had our fence put up.

Noah was at work, and two guys showed up in a truck, saw themselves into the backyard, fired up their chainsaws, and had the thing felled and in pieces in under 15 minutes. If I hadn't heard the chainsaws, I would have attributed the task to wood sprites. (Back then I was so far removed from even semicountry life, I really couldn't have distinguished between fictional woodland creatures and real ones.)

Apparently, Noah can't either.

He's been chopping some of the smaller pieces for firewood, and I told him he should make something out of some of the bigger logs (I'm talking BIG). You know, to honor the tree and all that. And also so I have more pretty things for my house.

Erin: Why don't you look up online how to make something out of oak from your backyard?

Noah: I know! I could buy that book I saw on carving wizards.

Erin: ...

Noah: We could set up a wizard enclave around the fire pit.