Warm wood stove, warm heart

Warming by the wood stove with a mug of hot tea.

Five years ago, if someone would have told me that on January 21, 2014 I’d be outside at 7 am when it’s -35C fetching 120lbs of wood to feed a hungry indoor wood stove, or making cobbler with Saskatoon berries picked from our front yard last summer, or assembling ingredients to make crock pot chili that include home canned tomatoes grown in my garden and green peppers grown in my greenhouse, or watching a pair of bald eagles engaged in an aerial dance above my front yard, I would have responded, “Yeah, right. You’re delusional.”

About this time five years ago, I had recently returned from a month-long vacation in the Caribbean and was dreading at least two more months of snow, frigid temperatures and shoveling. I was already planning my next vacation. I couldn’t wait to escape the city’s monotonous drama to pursue sun, sand and Cuba Libres. This morning, I donned long underwear beneath my sweatpants and sweater, a heavy toque, face mask and Sorrel boots, then trudged through knee-deep snow carrying wood from the shed downstairs to keep the wood stove happy. And, believe it or not, I did all of this without wishing I were somewhere else.

I took time off from this blog to re-focus and figure out what I’m trying to accomplish here, not just in cyberspace, but generally in life. I turned 45 this month. When I was a kid, 45 year olds seemed, well, pretty old. I don’t feel old, though. While some may call this reflection and re-focus a mid-life crisis, I call it a personal reinvention, a sequel. Change can be scary for some people, but I think change sparks adventures and more opportunities to explore and learn.  Being a cog in the wheel isn’t for me; I want to do more, learn more, be more.

This past December, we endured record setting temperatures while an Arctic Vortex descended on the region. I now know what -51C feels like. It’s damned cold! Although the gas guzzlers’ batteries were frozen solid and we couldn’t go anywhere even if we wanted to, the wood stove was hungry and the beast needed to be fed regularly. We hauled in enough wood to last us three days.

My daily routine includes bringing in several bucket loads of logs to keep the stove burning hot so the propane furnace doesn’t need to kick in very often. Before bedtime, the thermostat is turned down to 59C. I know that sounds cold and, yes, it’s a bit chilly after emerging from a blissfully warm bed, but the goal is to reduce our reliance on propane.

The wood stove we had installed last spring is earning its keep. The propane tank will need to be filled next month at a cost about $900. That sounds outrageous, but considering we’ve had two frigid winters in a row and the last time we filled the tank was last February, we’re doing OK. I’ve heard from neighbors that they fill their propane or oil tanks practically every month. Yikes!

We’ll probably have a wood stove installed upstairs this spring. It makes sense to mainly rely on wood heat, given our normally long, cold winters. We have acres of trees for our fuel. If the electricity goes out (which happens occasionally) we’ll still have heat and cooking mediums. The lights did flicker a few times during the December Arctic Vortex. In hindsight, given -51C, followed by days of -40s, I’m surprised that there weren’t widespread power outages in the region. We were spared ice storms that crippled parts of Toronto and the East Coast.

Sturdy plastic grocery totes make good wood hauling containers

No worries at our end. If we get snowed in or the power goes out, our stove and oven are propane and the wood stove has a cast iron cook top. The pantry and freezer are always well-stocked and the emergency preparedness kits are always nearby, as well as a supply of potable water in case the power is out for an extended period of time. No power means the well pump won’t work. But, despite that issue, we’re golden to withstand brief power outages.

It’s important to have backup plans when you live in the sticks. A wood stove upstairs will be a welcomed addition to my growing culinary skills. I look forward to watching the coffee percolator brew its magic on the cast iron stove top while I whip up an omelet or pancakes in a cast iron pan. I have cooked on the stove downstairs, but it’s a pain lugging ingredients, pots, pans and dishes up and down the stairs.

I do like being down here, warming up beside the wood stove after hauling yet another load of wood, a hot mug of tea with grated ginger and honey fogging my glasses. So much has changed. Five years ago, I dreamed of living somewhere far away. Today, I’d rather be nowhere else but home.