You're a Furnace

When Times Are Tough, Find Your Light.

This morning I arose to a cold house. It was 48 degrees in the warmest part of the living room. How cold is that? Well, I'll put it this way. I woke up to the sound of my dog drinking out of the toilet, strike that, cracking through a layer of ice to drink from the toilet.

That is something not everyone can claim they've experienced. And as awful as that may sound to some of you, know I could have avoided it. It was a choice.

The farmhouse has two wood stoves, one in the back mudroom near the plumbing and one in the living room. Had I stoked both the fires and got up earlier it could have been a lot more comfortable than this, but since the temperature wasn't dropping below zero outside I chose to put my energy towards sleep instead of comfort.

And sleep I did. I got a solid eight hours under wool and sheepskins, Gibson the border collie curled under the covers against my chest. Together we were our own kindled fire, warm as could be inside our little nest.

I was smiling in the dark. I…