I stand in stacks against the chill, Once full of life upon a hill. Now stripped of bark and split in twain, I wait to dry through sun and rain, And feed the hearth a warm embrace When winter winds begin to race.

I can have many arms or none, either way I'm no fun. A thousand needles is no joke, best watch out for my poke!

A hole in my head and wax in my belly, My face is a wild toothy sneer. If the weather is cold I won't get soft and smelly. It's only a squirrel that I fear!

Remove my last two for generic name for a lady Or drop my first two for the fairest race in fantasy And right between is the beginning of eternity But really I’m convenient place to hold what e’er you need

*Everything is constantly in a state of evolution Adapting, improving to make a faster solution* So let's go back in time, 130 years will be fine, Used as our short message system, but offline. It's still in use but it has a different design, On the front, landscapes or some grapes on a vine. The other side is divided in the middle by a line. Recieve this to know that someone thinks you're fine, It's physical evidence of friendship, not just a sign.