February 08, 2015

The Art of the Tweak

We are all masters of something. Something grand or something humble but we know, with every cell of our body, that we do "it" better than anyone in the world.

I believe I am a Fire Master. I can build and maintain the hottest, most efficient, roaring fire in a fireplace, wood stove and campfire! Bar none! In fact, when we lived out of city limits, my burn piles and blazes were epic!

My husband is a fire master (note the lower case lettering), He believes he is my superior in fire building skills. Alas, he is equally delusional in other areas of expertise (soups, pruning, driving).

My children believe themselves to be masters in the art. I totally agree with their self assessments as they studied under a Master!

I'm considering mounting a little Go-Pro video camera high in the corner opposite the wood stove to record many not-so-discreet tweakings of my awe-inspiring infernos.

My husband leaves in the morning after stoking the fire. When his car leaves the driveway, I promptly open the cast iron door to our wood stove to gently adjust the logs for maximum heat. A quick modification of the draft knob and we have perfection.

I keep the consummate blaze going through the day. Paradisiacal Artistry!

Just before hubby comes home, I check to make sure the glory of the burn is in order.

Husband walks in, gives me a kiss, a couple of pats on the heads of dogs and beelines it for the wood stove. Tweak, tweak, tweak.

Brushing ash or stray bark from his hands he heads down the hall to change into comfortable clothes and remove his shoes or, weather permitting, he grabs leashes and takes dogs for a walk.

I move to stove to repair any damage to the fire and readjust the draft knob.

If husband catches me putting in a new log or checking on fire he quietly returns to tweak whatever I have done. I know because the door is very much in need of oiling. It can be heard opening and closing in every room of the house.

There is no way I am going to allow that door to be silenced from warning me that my artistry has been tampered with!

Boy, is he going to be surprised to find out where the WD40 is at the end of fire season!

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