I am still holding out hope that the snow will melt.
But in the meantime, I can’t deny a few appreciated moments that it has brought with it: My children voluntarily playing outside, three times a day; frosted windows; an unexpected snow day; and the coziness of a fire in the wood stove.
And then there’s the wood stove.
It took a lot of convincing from my husband for us to have a wood stove. He had always wanted one; I was afraid of the possibility of house fires, the work of piling wood, and the bugs that hitchhike on logs. But when we bought a new house a year ago, we chose one that had a wood stove.
I didn’t know how cold I was before. The natural heat from burning wood is so toasty warm, I want to take it with me whenever I leave the house. I’ve also found that I don’t mind piling wood (especially when my husband does it!), and that there aren’t really so many bugs (although I am still traumatized by a rather large, rather creepy looking one that found its way into our basement a couple of weeks ago).
So I was wrong. A wood stove is a wonderful thing.