Yesterday I tried to build a fire in the fireplace and it blazed away, till the paper and fat wood had burned through. “Keep an eye on it honey, or it’ll die out after it roars through your kindling,” Steve said while we talked on the phone. Check. This morning I asked Steve to build me a fire before he left for the office.

Thanks honey! It’s blazing. Still. And we’re on our ninth stick of firewood. I love sunny blue skies and crisp, dry winters, with a gas fireplace ready-at-the-flip-of-a-switch Colorado-style. But since we’re no longer in Colorado, I’ll take a roaring fire to keep the overcast, icy, bitter-cold-Kentucky winter company.

Besides, now it's snowing. Sideways. Better get the sleds ready.