After waiting all morning for delayed customers, I eventually got away to hit two yard sales and then attend the Celebration of Life for Barb Marshall this early afternoon.
The pot luck lunch and barbecue was very pleasant, and well attended. I had a chance to chat with some of my favourite folk, and others who I rarely see, and I met some people too. The talk and anecdotes were full of praise and admiration for Barb, of course.
I didn’t stay too long, and when I came home lit a fire, thinking that I would have the house all cozy for Gary when he returned from a different rainy day event. I set a timer for 20 minutes several times so that I could check the wood heater and then turn it down when the indicator for the catalytic burner was just right.
I shut the damper down eventually and sat in the recliner, and fell sound asleep. When I woke with both dogs pacing in the living room, there was a faint pall of smoke visible. A customer drove in just then, and I noticed smoke belching out the chimney, and then another customer arrived.
Then Gary returned home and determined that we’d had a chimney fire. I stayed out of the way, worrying and fighting tears and believing I had screwed up, even with such good intentions. That would be typical of my life.
Gary calmly (so it seemed) kept busy emptying the heater of all wood, fire and coals. We set up fans to blow the now copious amounts of smoke from the house, and that cleared out along with most of the warmth.
I apologized, and it’s a good thing, because then my husband could assure me that it was NOT my fault! Thank goodness he came home and dealt with it, but it was great to know that it wasn’t something I did or didn’t do. It is nobody’s fault… Gary cleans the chimney regularly, but the creosote within had burned and fallen, blocking it.
Now, with the house still warm enough, we are both relaxing and there is most marvelous Beatles documentary on the TV.
This has all been enough excitement for one day.