Battle of wills

If there is one thing that neither the lad nor I like to do, it’s going out to the woodpile to bring in a couple of days supply of wood. It’s one of those necessary chores, but we don’t enjoy doing it. This time it was his turn. I vowed that I would ask him once, maybe twice, and prepare to freeze. Because, I was not going to do it. His turn, fair is fair. How cold would it have to get before he’d go out and bring in the wood?

Well, as his luck would have it, the outside temperature rose to 62 degrees on Thursday. Didn’t even need a fire in the stove. I let it burn out completely and cleaned the ashes out yesterday. By last night, however, the temperature had dipped back down into the mid-20s and it was getting brisk in here.

I added a layer of clothing and waited. He added a layer of clothing and resisted. I added another layer. He did, too. I wrapped myself up in a blanket on the sofa and waited. And waited. The indoor thermometer kept dropping. I was about ready to force the issue when it finally hit 59 degrees. After having the stove keep us at an even 76 degrees for the last couple of weeks, 59 degrees feels like an arctic blast. My lips were turning blue.

And then I heard movement upstairs. I grabbed my book and looked totally absorbed when he came downstairs.

“You win,” he said. “How cold were you going to let it get in here?”

“As cold as necessary,” I said.

“You’re stubborn,” he said.

“Count on it,” I said.

He brought in a three or four day supply of wood. Far more than I’d anticipated or asked for. He also brought quite a lot of it up on the deck so that I only have to take a couple of steps out the door to grab a piece or two.

Seemed like a late night pizza was an appropriate way to say thanks for an effort that was above and beyond. In front of a roaring fire, naturally.

No matter how much I (or we) may whine about the chores associated with keeping the stove going, it really is the nicest kind of heat. It extends to every corner—there is never a cold spot in the house. It’s steady and cozy. And no matter how warm it gets in here, I’m not paying extra for it. I love that part. I’ve noticed, too, that we seldom have winter colds when I heat with wood. I love that part, too.

Now, if I could only teach Terry how to fetch wood.