Stoked

I've been sleeping on the couch - which I like to do anyway - and stoking the stove a couple of times during the night. I like wood heat which is penetrating, cozy and wonderful but it is a lot of work. We buy wood even though there are some trees I would love to harvest on the farm. I bought Matt a hefty Husqvarna chain when we moved here but, to my surprise, I never hear it running. I sometimes think of my students who would love to have that chain saw. I'm afraid of it or I would use it myself. In the meantime, the wood has to be stacked when delivered, then carried in and stacked again for use inside the apartment. I miss a fireplace and the lovely music it makes, popping and settling as it burns, but a fireplace is terribly inefficient and frivolous. I still want one. My dogs would lie up against the hearth to bake in the heat. They don't dare get near this big black box. Time to stoke it again and get off to work. I'm living for the weekend these days. Five more days then a week off to work on the farm over Christmas. Still no babies and that's fine with me for now.