My Life - Memories of Wood Stoves

I decided I would record some of my memories of the past once in a while. With my windows covered in ice, my memories of wood stoves seemed appropriate.

We always had a wood stove for heat growing up. I love wood stoves - the glow, the warmth, the security. I found that there are many life lessons learned with a wood stove.

First, they teach you work. I have tons of memories of our family getting together with our friends Jack, Lucy and their kids and spending a Saturday gathering wood. Jack and Lucy lived in the woods of South Central Washington. We would sing songs as a family on the hour drive to their house. I remember singing tons of scout songs, especially "Quarter Master Store". And my dad would tell stories and point out all the wildlife along the way.

My dad and Jack would run the chain saws and we kids would gather the logs and stack them in the trucks. The moms helped some but mostly cooked dinner. Jack and Lucy's house was a child's paradise. Their daughter Tina and I had a make-believe playhouse under some trees. The shrubs grew up to form a tunnel we would use to enter our "home". The boys would build forts in the mud in the summer. Sometimes the dads would get out their guns and practice shooting. Sometimes we would go on four-wheeler rides. When the pond froze, the dads would give us rides on shovels across the ice.

After a long day of work and play, we would have a WONDERFUL dinner together. Lucy is a great cook. Tina and I had the chore of dishes after dinner (neither family ever had a dishwasher) and I remember us talking about how we were never going to make our kids do all the clean up for 10-12 people!

My favorite time came after dinner. Jack would get out his guitar and my dad would either sing with him or play his harmonica and they would sing tons of folk songs by the crackling fire. I remember "Peter, Paul and Mary" songs, and other folk songs. A favorite was "I'm in Love with a Big Blue Frog." We would stay late and almost always see deer or other animals on our way home before we fell asleep.

When we got home, we had to stack all the wood. I have learned from sad experience the best way to stack wood. Another life lesson - do it right the first time! And, a little mistake early on does make a big difference later. There is nothing worse that having your stack fall over towards the end. I also learned to work together. It really doesn't take very long to unload a truck when we all worked together. We learned to work assembly line fashion and to carry large loads to make it go faster.

I also learned to be grateful for my brothers who had the job of keeping the wood box full in the house. They would make a dozen trips out in the snow and cold to bring the wood in. I learned how to start a fire (again - do it right the first time!), how to use and appreciate things like newspapers and dryer lint. I learned the importance of cleaning out the ashes and keeping the chimney clean. I learned the importance of a little thing called a flue.

I love the glow and warmth of a fire. I love to stand by a fire and soak up the warmth. I love the self-sufficiency of having a wood stove. Power outages were never a big deal - we had heat and many times cooked on our stove. A pot of boiling water brings humidity and warmth to a cold room.

When we were in grade school, my brother and I would dress by the fire (we each took a side) as it would be freezing in our rooms. My brother has a scar on each butt cheek where he bent over too close to the stove and branded his derrière. Twice! I do not have any such scars.

Last memory of a wood stove. I tended a goat farm and 4 young girls once when the parents were away for a few days. The family didn't have any electricity and used a wood cook stove as their heat and cooking stove. It was an adventure. It was hard - we had to stoke the fire every 4 hours (night and day) to keep it going because it was a bugger to re-light. The wood had to be very small to fit in the stove. I learned to cook on it. I love that experience. It taught me an appreciation for the past and provided a wealth of learning.

I love wood stoves. My dream house has one, maybe even two. The memories and the lessons are worth every minute of the work. I find that I miss the old wood stove all year long. I miss gathering wood in the summer. I miss the heat and crackle in the winter. Maybe my landlord would let me make some modifications...