Not As Easy As All That

Remember that fire I was deciding whether to feed or not? Deciding to feed it or stay in bed isn't always easy. There are several things to consider. Feeding the fire not only means facing the cold to retrieve more wood. In the early morning there is legitimate risk involved, the risk of waking others.

That stove door has a telling squeak baby ears seem to hear better than all others. If this is a human baby, they can be snuggling back to sleep by the fire's glow. Fur babies are another matter. They have been in their little nighttime "dens" for hours and are thrilled to hear their beloved toys on legs moving around. They want to play when I want to slip back under the covers.

Fur babies also have to relieve themselves outside in the cold I am attempting to keep out of the house. I have to either take them out or wait by the door while they complete their business. If they are a very little fur baby they might not want to come back in the house. Then I will have to fetch them in. This involves donning footwear and a coat, or a blanket from the couch. Feeding the fire involves more than just me, myself, and I.

Just as others can be awakened when feeding the woodstove, others will be impacted by the feeding of my life fire. Not everyone will be appreciative of the squeaks and new choices feeding the fire of life requires. I might have to stay awake and play when I would rather go back to bed. I might have to put what is best ahead of what is quickest, chose the enduring eternal over the easy temporal. This might be more than throwing some hunks of wood in the stove. It might, but sometimes it won't be. It's a decision only I can decide.

Is a warm house of life worth the potential risks to personal comfort and ease? Is it worth potentially waking others? I hope so. I'm already stirring up the coals picking up the wood.