My husband, David, thinks I’m too particular about the wood I need to keep the wood stove going. It can pretty much heats the whole house and keep our utility bill down.
Of course, it requires a commitment of time on the part of both of us, but the lower utility bill and “real” warmth, not heat pump warmth, is the reward. I have taken care of a wood stove since 1987, so I know my wood.
A wood stove is as demanding, if not more so, than a baby. It is always hungry, and it doesn’t sleep at night. At last I have realized I’m too old and tired to be going up and down the stairs sleepily in the middle of the night. I now make the stove go all night without eating. Hopefully, in the morning there are still enough embers to start a fire again without much trouble.
But I’m so cheap that it annoys me to let the blower keep going all night if the fire isn’t worth much. It would be another trip downstairs to turn the blower off, so I had a brilliant idea.
We got a smart plug that uses the Alexa to control our Christmas tree lights. Instead of crawling behind the tree and a bazillion presents, we just had to say in that general direction, “Turn on/off the Christmas tree.” It works beautifully!
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So beautifully in fact that I asked David to figure out if the blower would work on it. It did! Alexa hangs out in the kitchen, though, and I haven’t taken the time to change the command, so early in the morning when it doesn’t feel like the fire is roaring, I sleepily creep into the kitchen and say, “Alexa, turn off the Christmas tree.”
And the blower goes off. Shhhh, she doesn’t know the Christmas tree is actually in the gully and she’s controlling the wood stove blower. She might have something to say about it if she did.
Back to my demands as to wood. David spends his fall and winters, after the leaf raking, with cutting up the trees that have fallen on our property. Sometimes he knows what wood they are; sometimes he doesn’t.
We know pine, though, and I love to burn dry pine. Sure, it burns up fast, but it also catches fire fast. I am happy with pine.
But he brought some funky wood in the other day, and I knew immediately I did not like it. It didn’t catch fire fast, it burned weakly and the fire was out in the morning with the wood not even burning.
“I don’t like that wood,” I said. “I like that wood.” I pointed to a couple of pieces of pine left beside the stove.
“I think you don’t like any wood,” he said.
“No, I like pine,” I said.
But alas we were out of pine.
I had an idea that meant more work for him, but what else did he have to do? He’s retired, and he had done the Wordle for the day.
“Just split the bad wood in half again, and it will be small enough to burn better,” I suggested lovingly.
So he dragged all the wood outside again and split it all again. Luckily, after years of splitting mounds of wood with a maul, one of my sons had said, “You know you can buy an electric wood splitter.” It was life-changing.
I was right. He agreed I was right, which is the desired conclusion, and the wood did burn better.
But it burned too fast. The newborn baby became colicky, and I was stuck in the basement family room feeding it.
I tried unsuccessfully not to complain since he thinks I’m never happy with wood. I just wish I could pick which trees fall down during ice storms, or I was strong enough to push over the ones that are leaning.
We have a huge branch of a humongous elm tree on the ground waiting for it to dry and be split. I’d be excited about it if I hadn’t read that burning elm gives you the odor of where it’s planted. Ours is in the middle of the drain field to our septic system.
And David thinks I complain now about the wood? Just wait.
Elzey is a freelance writer for the Register & Bee. She can be reached at susanelzey@yahoo.com or 434-791-7991.
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February 28, 2022 at 05:00AM
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