Time of the season
Growing up my parents only heated with wood. This meant two things: 1) I had to help run the wood splitter when I was a teenager, which only guaranteed an award winning mug on my face, and 2) I was going to be cold every morning from October to April. Once I left the house my parents promptly got a propane furnace for half of the house. They still have a wood stove though, and now that I am mostly removed from the process, I fully enjoy it when I am home.
Two years ago my father bought a bunch of tree length wood. My brother recently got a wood stove himself, in an attempt to minimize his oil bill as much as possible, as well as an old chainsaw. This weekend they were out cutting wood, because as you know, it’s getting cold out there.
There’s something much more human about heating with wood than any fossil fuel. You have to labor throughout the whole process for the fuel. You cut the wood, you stack the wood, you carry the wood, you load the wood, you make the fire. And then you’re rewarded with this nice dry heat that swells around you with a particular warmth that you just can’t get any other way.
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