Disclaimer: This post is for entertainment purposes. If you are a true homesteading woman, I give you all the respect. You, good lady, are made of stronger stuff than me.
I've been spoiled my entire life by having a home that heats with the turn of a knob. Sure, you have to pay out the wazoo for it, but boy, on a cold night, it's oh so wonderful.
When Sir and I were first together, I looked at the woodstove with longing. It was summer, and I remember feeling excited about the work it involved. The sheer joy I would get from knowing I was going to get the opportunity to chop wood and heat the house with my own two hands. I had spent years romanticizing pioneer life. I was obsessed with it from a young age. I read hundreds of books about it.
*Pause for hysterical crying caused by the jolt of reality smacking you in the face.*
After having used this thing for months, I have come to the realization that it's not the warm and sweet situation I had pictured. Allow me to give you a list of Sparrow's Top Ten Reasons That Woodstoves Suck:
But first, let me go add more wood to the fire.
1. I'm going to just put this right out there. I do NOT have the muscles of a lumberjack. Don't get me wrong, I am strong in many ways, but not in the wood chopping way. When I swing an axe, I barely make a mark in a log. If you had to compare the dents in the wood to the tread on a tire, I would fail inspection every time. I JUST SUCK. My muscles are definitely more suited to pushing a vacuum or kneading dough. Therefore, the job I looked so forward to, I have now deemed as Sir's job. He can have it. I will stick with the lady like jobs.
2. Speaking of axes. Let me axe you a question. (hahahaha, puns) Have you ever wielded an honest to goodness axe for the purpose of murdering a log? If you haven't, then you have no idea of the sheer terror it brings. Every time I lift the thing over my head, I feel like I'm going to sink it into the dog's head or my leg. I have zero control over that thing. I watch in wonder as Sir can bring it down with ease and hit his target like he's a freaking marksman. When I watch the wood split like butter on a hot knife, I'm both amazed and angry at him for being so capable. What a jerk. (love you, Sir!)
3. Ashes. Freaking ashes and dust everywhere. I hope you non woodstove people enjoy only having to dust on occasion. I do that shit almost every day. (I allow myself a break on the weekends...sometimes.) That picture above is a joke. No one that owns one of these things has a house that is impeccably dust and debris free.
4. You know that lovely smell of a summer camp fire? You walk out of the woods feeling refreshed, like you have just had an affair with mother nature. It's calming. When you burn wood in your home for heat, you smell like that all the time. Your hair, your clothes, your skin... everything smells like you are existing in a structure that is constantly on fire. Roast a marshmallow over me an call me toast.
5. Back to the cleaning. (I have ocd, this is a huge thing for me..so just deal) I also have to vacuum every day, sometimes multiple times a day. By some magic of nature, every time you handle a piece of wood, chips fly everywhere and stick in the carpet like tiny little needles just waiting to torture you. That shit doesn't always just vacuum up. Sometimes I have to get on my hands and knees and pull the splinters out one by one, the whole time cursing at the stove.
6. Burns. I have scars. SCARS. My beautiful, delicate hands now look like I smelt metal for a living. It's not just my hands. It's my forearms and wrists as well. If I had a superpower, it would be burning myself. I just hope that someday, scars become a trend..cause I would then be super cool.
7. I should have a degree in medicine, or at least in splinter removal. My fingertips have callouses from all the splinter removal surgeries I have performed on myself. Move over tweezers, I'm gonna need a knitting needle.
8. About 99% of people who say they sell 'seasoned firewood' lie. They lie like they are politicians. Do you have any idea what a chore it is to try to burn wood that is even slightly green? DO YOU?!! (sorry, I'm passionate about this.) It nearly takes an act of God to get it to light and stay lit. You have to stand over it, pray, do a ritualistic dance, and offer a blood sacrifice IN HOPES it will work out. And it wont.
9. I'm not going to lie. There IS something calming about being in a room where you hear the crackling wood and feel the warmth of the stove as you snuggle on a couch. Know what's not so calming? Leaving that room and going into a tile bathroom where the heat doesn't reach and putting your warm tuckus on an ice cold toilet seat. Nope. It's about as fun scraping dog poop off of the bottom of a heavily treaded boot.
10. Set it and forget it. If only. As you turn the knob on your thermostat once a day to get that toasty warmth we all want, I'm up constantly putting more wood on, poking around with an iron rod to stir things up, opening and closing dampers, begging it to just stay lit FOR THE LOVE OF ALL THAT IS HOLY.
All in all, I'm not ungrateful for the woodstove. I actually do appreciate it for the warmth it gives.
But I will never.... NEVER AGAIN...walk into someone's house who has one and say, "oh, you must love using a woodstove! I've always wanted one! How lucky." I will shake their hands in solidarity as I say, "bet you can't wait till winter is over, huh?"
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