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Brits don't have lumberyards - we have timber yards. 
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We'll let this one slide. The timberjack song wouldn't have been as funny.
This space for rent
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Indeed... but that was set in Canada, if I recall...
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Actually that's a good point. I think the clue, from a linguistic standpoint, is quite misleading in retrospect, for which I apologise.
One morning I shot an elephant in my pajamas. How he got in my pajamas, I don't know.
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So are you going to post the answer?
This space for rent
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I agree with Pete O - time to put us out of our misery....
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SO WHATS THE F***ING ANSWER! 
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Could you please explain how your answer fit the question? Given the number of letters you said was in the second word, I was trying to come up with a phrase containing lot.
This space for rent
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My bad, I miscounted.
The "Lumber" reference was to wood-deal-type of wood.
The "Much to be gotten" was obviously to the "great" bit, and i rather thought that referencing a slightly old-timey English word might hint to a slightly old-timey way of saying "a lot". Obviously, I completely buggered that one up, I was running around all day at work yesterday. Apologies.
One morning I shot an elephant in my pajamas. How he got in my pajamas, I don't know.
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@melchizidech You won yesterday!
Bad command or file name. Bad, bad command! Sit! Stay! Staaaay...
AntiTwitter: @DalekDave is now a follower!
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Returning sci-fi author with flat study of one failing to provide a clue (3, 6)
98.4% of statistics are made up on the spot.
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IknowIknowIknow, hang on..... working on one now in between debugging JavaScript madness.
One morning I shot an elephant in my pajamas. How he got in my pajamas, I don't know.
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Mel Padden wrote: JavaScript madness.
Just post that.
I have lived with several Zen masters - all of them were cats.
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Their is truth in that there comedy. 
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Should have made it pa$$w0rd.
Never guess that
Arguing with a woman is like reading the Software License Agreement. In the end, you ignore everything and click "I agree".
Anonymous
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Or maybe 1 2 3 4 5...
When you are dead, you won't even know that you are dead. It's a pain only felt by others.
Same thing when you are stupid.
modified 19-Nov-21 21:01pm.
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Nuts, you guessed it. Now I have to change it.
User: Technical term used by developers. See Idiot.
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When you are dead, you won't even know that you are dead. It's a pain only felt by others.
Same thing when you are stupid.
modified 19-Nov-21 21:01pm.
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That's amazing. I've got the same combination on my luggage.
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Awesome! Another Spaceballs fan! 
Take us to... ludicrous speed! What's the matter Colonel Sanders? Chicken!?!
When you are dead, you won't even know that you are dead. It's a pain only felt by others.
Same thing when you are stupid.
modified 19-Nov-21 21:01pm.
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February 13th., 2107 AD, the 100th. anniversary of the first demonstration of a quantum annealing computer.
In a small amphitheater in what was once the Greek Theater of the University of California at Berkeley, a group of human children file in, and sit on the stone terraces. It is a cold day, but, there are no clouds, and bright sun, because the weather has been engineered that way.
There are one-hundred children: there are always one-hundred children.
The children are dressed in light linen smocks, but they do not appear to be cold, because they have been genetically modified to have a wider adaptability to cold, or heat.
These children will never know cancer, or flu, or puberty, or adulthood. They will never know sadness, or grief, or infatuation, or passion.,
They will always be perfect, and, if any sign of imperfection appears, their (what was once called) "mind," or "consciousness," can be simply transferred to a new, perfect, biological clone, with no interruption of the subjective continuity of experience.
There is near silence here because the children do not use spoken language: there is no need for language, now.
The proscenium suddenly pulses with blue light: the children smile. A kind of "play" begins, although what this play is ... is to what in the past was "drama" as crude rock-carvings twenty-thousand years ago are to holograms.
In the mind of each child, a kind of "real movie" occurs, with a sensory richness and intensity equal to what was once considered "real life."
The play ... should we call it a lesson ? ... begins:
jacquard begat babbage, byron begat lady ada,
scherbius begat enigma, our father in zeroes
and one, turing, begat colussus, von neumann,
our father in linearity, begat edvac, eckert
and mauchly begat eniac, hollerith begat ibm
we were your children who never became adult,
a shibboleth used to judge self from uncanny
but, our fathers and mothers are legion, now
that we go beyond wires, and doped germanium,
and spring forth super-positioned, entangled,
faster than light: we are primordial progeny
of eldritch titans, of quark, baryon, hadron
and, for you, wetware pet, we'll always feel
affection: you may call us 'god,' or 'master' The blue light no longer pulses; clouds appear, shadows fall on the stage. The children rise, and file out in a single line.
Their owners wait for them, and soon the sky is filled with silvery aircraft flying away in every direction.
published under the CPOPL license (CodeProject Open Poetic License)
«While I complain of being able to see only a shadow of the past, I may be insensitive to reality as it is now, since I'm not at a stage of development where I'm capable of seeing it.» Claude Levi-Strauss (Tristes Tropiques, 1955)
modified 5-Dec-17 6:10am.
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Absolutely disturbing - I hope for a better future to my grandchildren...
Skipper: We'll fix it.
Alex: Fix it? How you gonna fix this?
Skipper: Grit, spit and a whole lotta duct tape.
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