1 min readMar 20, 2019
My dad was a cop, my mom a sometimes substitute teacher. We too had a wood stove which wasn’t so terrible as long as dad wasn’t trying to be TOO thrifty with the wood supply.
I hated being dragged along as extra labor to load wood. If lugging logs were an intellectual exercise, I would have been happy to chip in.
As an accoutrement, a wood burning fire is a pleasure; as a necessity . . . not so much.
Here’s a bit of 🔥 that’s pure pleasure, Fred:
