Summer ran past in the blink of an eye. Wasn't I paying attention?
I wish there was a way to slow the seasons down and sometimes feel like I'm on a brake-less train gaining speed down a steep grade. I'm not interested in what's at the bottom of this hill.
But here we are again. So we get the firewood in, chimney swept, storm windows up and settle in for another long winter. Our property borders a vast woodland so fuel is close at hand.
We cut, split, and store wood year round and try to stay at least a full season ahead in our supply.
Typically, we go through about a dozen face cords during the winter.
The downstairs fireplace has an efficient Fuego insert that completely heats the basement which is where we spend most of our time during the cold, dark hours. The heat rolls along the ceiling until it finds the stairwell and billows on up. Our thermostat is at the top of the stairs where it feels the heat and prevents the furnace from kicking on. We keep the thermostat set at 50 degrees because there are things we'd rather spend our money on than fuel oil. Even so, after we've gone to bed and the embers grow dim, the furnace will kick on two or three times during the night.
We use an electric blanket on the bed and take space heaters into the bathroom for showers or to have at our feet during meals. Our electric bill goes up about 50 bucks a month during winter but that's nothing compared to what the fuel oil would cost.
The emerald ash borer has decimated our ash trees so an ample supply of fuel is assured for many years to come. That means I don't have to go so deep into the woods to harvest.
It broke my heart to see the ashes fail but that's natural selection at work. Once the ashes are all dead, I suppose the borer will die, too. And then maybe the ashes can make a comeback. More likely though, some other tree species will succeed in their place. So it goes.
Being a native of Michigan, I've learned to welcome winter like an old friend. But like most visitors it eventually wears its welcome out. A short stay would be fine... but five months?
Alas, we slouch along, well past the days of looking out in wonder at freshly fallen snow. Skiing? Sledding? Been there, done that. The thrill is gone. Sure, by Christmas the days are beginning to get longer, but who needs longer days like this?
Now the urge is just to hunker down, pull the afghan to our chins and dream of places warm.
Ah, but spring will come. It's an immutable law of nature. Slowly there will be more green than white, more blue than gray, more energy than lethargy. We will be renewed! And maybe this year, we'll savor it even more, with a joy that those poor souls stuck in warm climates just can't appreciate.
I wish there was a way to slow the seasons down and sometimes feel like I'm on a brake-less train gaining speed down a steep grade. I'm not interested in what's at the bottom of this hill.
But here we are again. So we get the firewood in, chimney swept, storm windows up and settle in for another long winter. Our property borders a vast woodland so fuel is close at hand.
We cut, split, and store wood year round and try to stay at least a full season ahead in our supply.
Typically, we go through about a dozen face cords during the winter.
The downstairs fireplace has an efficient Fuego insert that completely heats the basement which is where we spend most of our time during the cold, dark hours. The heat rolls along the ceiling until it finds the stairwell and billows on up. Our thermostat is at the top of the stairs where it feels the heat and prevents the furnace from kicking on. We keep the thermostat set at 50 degrees because there are things we'd rather spend our money on than fuel oil. Even so, after we've gone to bed and the embers grow dim, the furnace will kick on two or three times during the night.
We use an electric blanket on the bed and take space heaters into the bathroom for showers or to have at our feet during meals. Our electric bill goes up about 50 bucks a month during winter but that's nothing compared to what the fuel oil would cost.
The emerald ash borer has decimated our ash trees so an ample supply of fuel is assured for many years to come. That means I don't have to go so deep into the woods to harvest.
It broke my heart to see the ashes fail but that's natural selection at work. Once the ashes are all dead, I suppose the borer will die, too. And then maybe the ashes can make a comeback. More likely though, some other tree species will succeed in their place. So it goes.
Being a native of Michigan, I've learned to welcome winter like an old friend. But like most visitors it eventually wears its welcome out. A short stay would be fine... but five months?
Alas, we slouch along, well past the days of looking out in wonder at freshly fallen snow. Skiing? Sledding? Been there, done that. The thrill is gone. Sure, by Christmas the days are beginning to get longer, but who needs longer days like this?
Now the urge is just to hunker down, pull the afghan to our chins and dream of places warm.
Ah, but spring will come. It's an immutable law of nature. Slowly there will be more green than white, more blue than gray, more energy than lethargy. We will be renewed! And maybe this year, we'll savor it even more, with a joy that those poor souls stuck in warm climates just can't appreciate.
