I’m looking at our wood-stove that we installed in April blaze brightly. It’s a satisfying thing to light the first fire of the year, and this new stove just keeps on burning, no need to fiddle or diddle. My old Franklin stove, which had a historical pedigree, would go out if you left the room. This airtight model made by Pacific Energy in British Columbia, just keeps on chugging along, no need to move it around, stir it or add more wood. The best part is the little hatch that you can flip up to send a blast of air into the firebox, or use it to clean out the ashes.
We’ve also been diligent about our wood. We stockpiled lots of great old maple from the tree we cut down in the center of the yard, and then we put away two cords taken from Mary’s house in Wendell. The job of a wood heated house owner is never done, as I type I’m reminded that we need to place an order for more green wood, so it can sit and ripen for a year or so. But for now we can bask in this warmth coming from this wonderful stove–the fire is visible through the glass, it burns straight down to leave half the amount of ashes as the old stove, and now the whole room is warmed up.
I find that fires fit in in so many ways in my life. I just finished barbecuing some chicken, salmon burgers, peppers, eggplant and a kale from our garden, and this summer I made a fire a few times in our fire pit. Now we move inside, no longer can we spend evenings outside. Now the fire’s energy will be contained in our living room hearth.