The Costly Wood Heat

Everyday in October,  I will post about one blessing from my day.  Some days might be big blessings, some might be terribly unimportant . . . some might be a bit of a joke.

But my goal is to find joy in everyday life.

We got our first wood stove early on in our marriage.  I was against it.  But this does not surprise us.

Who has time to fall trees?  Who has time to split wood?  Who has the muscles to split wood?  Who has time to keep the fire loaded?

Not I.

Alas.  We got a wood stove.  David always runs that thing hot like lava.  I’m talking 97 degrees in December.

December,  I tell you!

I have always found myself humorous.  It’s one of the qualities I like best about myself.  So I, in the spirit of I, took a picture of our dogs with the Hawaiian leis because it was sooooooo hot.

See?  Funny.

Anyways.  For twelve years now, give or take a year, we have heated our home with wood.  And that wood must be gathered by my Lumberjack.  For what is a Lumberjack without his love of wood falling?  I ask you?

And, yes.  People actually talk like that.  They say things like “He felled a tree” and “load it in the rig.”  I know, I know.  I can barely believe it myself.

I am convinced, readers, that wood heat has cost us a fortune.  Allow me to illustrate with a little tale that happened this very weekend.

On Saturday, David woke up bright and early to go and fulfill his life’s purpose and gather wood for his beloved family.  Since his general life motto is “Go Big or Go Home,”  he of course had to take the truck and his trailer.

Lo, and behold, the trailer got a flat tire.  Therefore, he had to stop at a small town on the way home and pay many dollars to fix it.

Fine.  Super.  No big deal, right?

Mmmm-hmmmm.

On Sunday, David gets up again at O Dark Thirty to get even more wood.  Remember, this is what he lives for.  Daisy Mae goes with him, because she is clearly insane.  David had already “felled” (really!  people say it!  I KNOW!) the wood, so this trip would be a bit easier than the one the day before.  He told me he should be home by about 1pm.  When he is “wood-fellin,” he does not have cell service until he is about one hour away from home.

Around 1:45, I started to get a bit nervous.  I tried calling his phone, but he was still out of service.  I went to the bathroom and missed a call from an unknown number.  I, being the sleuth that I am, used the power of The Google and learned, much to my horror, that the number was from the forest ranger for the exact area that David and Daisy Mae were gathering wood.

A million things go through my mind, but the most persistent one was that they were both dead.  Because I never worry.

I tried to call the forest ranger number back about five times and got a machine.

I called David’s cell, even though it was out of range.

I called my mother twice.  TWICE.  And she did not answer.

What’s up with that?

For twenty minutes I was in a panic.  And then I got a call from Jason.

Remember Jason?

Jason is David’s youngest younger brother.  And he hearts it when I post that picture of him.

Apparently, David was calling from the Forest Ranger phone, but did not have the audacity to leave me a message.  David’s truck broke an axle.  Or something like that.  I don’t’ speak “truck.” He called Jason and Jason was en route to rescue David and Daisy Mae.

Finally, thanks to Jason and his mad-axle bearing skills, David and Daisy Mae were on their way home.

Only to have a tire blowout.

When David arrived, he informed me that the truck has major problems.  Like lots of dollars problems.

This is not good.

But, it’s ok.

Because for twenty minutes today, I was certain the two of them were horribly injured or worse.  I felt helpless and terrified and I had no idea what to do.  All I wanted in the world at that moment was for them to be okay.

And they were.

And they were pretty successful little wood gatherers, too.

So, tonight, I smiled when Daisy Mae bragged to her siblings about her grand adventure.  I laughed when she dramatically retold a story of how she saw an eagle (or an owl . . . she can’t be sure) and it was staring her down, getting ready to attack.  She prattled on and on about how Jason brought her French Fries and she ate lunch at 9:30am (giggle giggle) and she got to do cartwheels by the river.

And I am just thankful that everyone is in their beds, safe and sound.

No matter how costly the wood heat now is.