I woke up about 6:15 this morning, hearing (through ear plugs no less) the furnace kick on. That indicates to me that the fireplace must be low. Since my thinker felt obligated to start churning out a list of things I need to do and have failed to do and should be doing, I decided to just get up and go fill the fireplace.
Turns out, the fireplace is kicking out the BTU's...it's just really frackin' cold outside! Somewhere to the tune of 6° F outside. So I filled the fireplace and got it burning hot, turned a fan on low in the hallway to help blow the warmth through to the back of the house.
We sleep with flannel sheets (the soft, fleecy kind from L.L.Bean) and a feather blanket. This keeps us toasty warm even on the coldest nights. I love the softness of the flannel against my skin and the gentle weight of the feather blanket. It feels decadent and safe. I generate a lot of body heat and regulate my temp by sticking a foot or leg out. Comfortable sleeping is critical and I love this set up.
It wasn't the cold that woke me up, though. It was the sound of money being lost. I hate it when the furnace runs. It's costly (we use propane), and it dries everything out. The fire place doesn't dry out the house, my plants or my sinuses. I keep a cast iron pot on the woodburner and fill it with reverse osmosis filter water. I can keep a very comfortable 70% or more humidity in the house.
And I really like waking up to stoke the fire. The blast of heat as it gets going, the smell of the wood, the beauty of the flames, and the crackling sound of the fire makes me very happy. I am a creature of fire and heat.