Got a few things done today. Not much, but some. Mostly what I accomplished was to convince myself there is a lot more crap to muddle through, sort, store and/or toss. The back room is so stuffed I'm surprised the walls of the house aren't bulging.
But tonight peace reigns. I've got the fireplace stoked again. Log after quick burning log, into the flames! One thing the soft wood does well is form glowing coals which make fresh firewood explode into flames. And there is the lovely snap, crackle, pop of the logs. Total heaven for a pyromaniac like me.
It is amazing how the fireplace is actually keeping the front room heated. I mean, obviously that is what fire is all about, but for someone raised in a New York flat with pipes for heat, a fireplace is a miracle. Fireplaces were the stuff of old movies and fantasy for me when I was a kid. Now I can watch my red hot embers glowing, the flames leaping. I totally love my fireplace. How many more years before logs on flames are outlawed? New housing in the county have artificial gas fireplaces - standard. So I'm at the tail end of another century, surviving on wood for heat.
Reminds me of the trip to Ireland. My favourite evenings were two during which I spent my time bunging coal and turf onto a 17th century fireplace. Too cool.
I actually still have tiny cubes of peat I brought back with me from Ireland. I burn one occasionally for the thrill of smelling the peat again. In the picture below you can see the coal scuttle on the left under the little table. There was a second one full of turf/peat too.
