Making fires and making way

I’d like to preface this post with Dave and I have never owned a wood burning stove.

Last weekend  we lit our wood burning stove for the first time.  And of course when I say we, I mean Dave.  It’s freezing here in our neck of the woods.  Well, freezing for a native Southern Californian.  I mean we’re dipping into the 40’s.  I can almost feel my toes turning blue and frostbite starting to set in. So Dave started a fire.

It was roaring fire, but our house really wasn’t getting too warm.  Dave pushed and pulled knobs but it just didn’t seem to make a difference.  We turned the heater up.

This weekend we tried again.  First we (and again, I mean Dave) cleaned out all the ash.  The ash that was about 6 inches deep.  The ash that was full of nails and other construction debris.  The previous homeowners were full of lots of interesting idiosyncrasies.

As Dave cleans out the ash and trash, Mike peeks into the stove and asks him, “What are you doing?”

Dave:  What do you think?

Mikey: Are you cleaning out the fireplace?

Dave:  Yes.

Mikey:  Why?

Dave:  Why do you think?

Mikey: So Santa can fit through there.

Yep, of course, we’re making way for the big guy and his bag full of books (’cause that’s what Santa brings to our house).  It has nothing to do with your poor mother who’s wearing ten layers of clothes.  Santa just better make sure to wear a fire retardant suit, though, because after Dave cleaned up all that ash our living room was rather toasty.  That is until we found out that it was a no burn day and we had to bank our fire.  We’re gaining expertise, one failed attempt at a time.

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