It’s gotten cold again–down to the mid-20s tonight. I had some wood already split, but I decided to swing an axe for a little bit anyway, thinking about that old adage: he who chops wood warms himself twice.
I brought in the chopped kindling, along with some “windfall” branches I’ve been saving underneath the porch for starting fires. And in a few moments, I had a roaring fire going.
My youngest was still doing her homework. She moved up onto the couch by the fire, and I sat next to her reading my book and lending help, when needed.
The fire is still going, but the evening is wearing down. I put my book to the side just long enough to write these few words and to reflect on how grateful I am for nights like this.
And all it took was a little kindling.