Pyromania satiation...

Firewood Man came today.

He completely filled up the firewood rack.  Last time, it was a tad shy, because he was not sure how much I needed.  Actually, he miscalculated by one wheelbarrow load, so he decided to tend to a need that I keep insisting I do not have.

He split and then made a pile of kindling for up on the porch.  Now, I still have kindling out in the garage, tucked rather neatly away in the vintage ammunition boxes that serve as shelving on one side of the garage.  But Tim has, for years, believed I should not have to trudge out to the garage to fetch kindling if there is a storm outside.  Given that I keep a bin of kindling inside and I have become a veritable master at starting fires, needing just one piece of wood kindling per fire, my inside stash is just fine.

Tim doesn't agree.  He also doesn't understand why I don't want a (messy) pile of kindling on the porch.  Firewood Men are not all that keen on visual rest.

To be fair, I wouldn't mind having a stash on the back porch. However, it would need to be contained somehow.  And that containment would need to fit with my ... style.

What I like about Firewood Man is that, having just filled to the brim my firewood rack, he spent about 30 minutes telling me about his plan to fell a few more trees before Christmas to add to "my" pile in his driveway.  He wants to be sure that I will have plenty of fuel at hand to feed my fireplace.  What a kind man he is.

Anyway, Firewood Man also completely filled the firewood carrier (and then some) so that I was left with a significant stash inside by the fire I had going when he arrived.  Tim sort of likes that I have embraced my inner pyromaniac.  He also liked that, when he arrived, I was still in my pajamas, braids, and breathe right strip ... most of that beneath a rather large blanket I've been wrapped up in all day.  And all yesterday.

I have a scratchy, sore throat.
I am a bit horse.
I have the chills.

In sum, I am near convinced that I picked up some germs fetching prescriptions and I am greatly discouraged about feeling so bloody exhausted.  I also have been trying to extend my small stash of throat lozenges since I have no desire or drive to go out and get some more, despite how much my throat is bothering me.  Though I doubt it will truly work, I have been assiduously applying fire therapy to my seemingly-catching-another-cold person, as well as nap therapy.  And puppy dog therapy.  I tried to apply pulled pork taco therapy, but I am not that interested in eating at the moment.

If you want a measure of just how poorly I feel, I have not taken a single fire photo yesterday or today.  SIGH.