I've always thought of myself as somewhat of a pyromaniac. Not a psychotic one, mind you. Just a mild one. I've always loved being the designated firework-lighter. I enjoy lit candles at dinner. I like to watch the dying embers of a campfire. Stuff like that.
My husband, on the other hand, hates fire. I'm not sure he's even comfortable striking a matchbook match. He refuses to light candles at dinner.
When I discovered that our new digs would have a wood-stove, I thought, "Ah, this will be wonderful. Warm evenings by a cozy fire. And I'll be the family fire-master." However, I have since been put in my place - quite severely.
I have tried, on numerous occasions, to light a fire in the wood-stove. The sign of a successful fire? Our stove fan needs to start spinning. This fan only starts spinning of the stove gets hot enough. I think I may have gotten it spinning ONCE this winter, and that was after working at the fire for an hour, checking it and helping it every five minutes (I had to set a timer to remind myself - as I can get distracted with so many kids taking my attention).
I've wanted to blame the fire wood, saying it was not dry enough. However, my husband seems to be able to consistently get that blasted stove fan spinning! He's even shown me all his tricks... how to stack up the kindling and place the wood on top. The need to keep air underneath the wood. How it has to "breathe". I've watched him closely and tried to imitate it. And still no luck.
I'm not sure what to think of this. I'm considering giving up and passing my fire-mantle to him. Maybe I need just a bit of distance. Maybe the summer will give me that and I can come back fresh next winter and try my hand again.
Though I'm not sure how this bodes for my hopes of learning how to start a fire Dual Survivor-style (Cody Lundin is my fire hero).