Fire Frustrations

During those colder months of the year I get frequent reminders of the challenges we face by living the way we do here in the woods: a simplified, frugal way of life. Of course, there are overwhelming rewards that come from the way we live, and I've written several times about them. Simply being able to live in this environment and live close to the land is enough of a blessing to make all the struggles worthwhile.

What do I mean in this posting by the frustrations, challenges, and struggles of our lifestyle? It has mostly to do with all the labor that is required... the monotony and drudgery of menial tasks, the forgoing of certain luxuries, the loneliness of not being able to share your experiences with others doing similar things, etc.

An example came to mind on a cold evening lately, as I was engaged in heating the outdoor tub for our twice-weekly hot soak. To accomplish this bath, I feed an underwater aluminum wood stove chunks of wood for nearly two hours, until the water temperature reaches—and then hopefully hovers for a couple of hours—at about 102^o F (about 40^o C). A degree or two above 102 and the water threatens to cook you. A degree or two lower and you can't relax—you feel chilled, especially on a cold winter's night. The temperature must be narrowly controlled.

There are several variables that I need to account for, in reaching that narrow temperature window: the initial temperature of the water, the outdoor air temperature, the quality of the wood, how well I stack the logs in the stove, and how attentive I am during the heating process. I have over two decades of experience of preparing our hot tubs, so I now balance these variables far better than I did many years ago, but the challenge remains. Poor quality wood will cause the heating process to seem endless—especially if my attention wanders. Rather than enter the healing waters at 7 pm, say, it's going on 8 before the bath is ready. I can become very impatient and grumpy during that extra hour.

I can't help at these times but think about those folks who have a modern, high-tech hot tub and the convenience it brings them. For them the tub sits waiting—held continually at exactly the perfect temperature—for them to jump into at a moment's impulse. No gathering and splitting of wood; no lengthy feeding of a stove; no concern for the air temperature—just jump in and enjoy. Luxury is waiting at the touch of a button.

Of course, such a hot tub experience is completely contradictory to the way we live. Their kind of luxury is definitely not frugal, but calls for a significant and ongoing monetary expense. But such a convenience also comes with other costs. To acquire a labor-saving high-tech hot tub, for example, I may gain control and quick accessibility over my bathing process, but I also lose another kind of control, because I do not have enough self-sufficiency or the freedom to be as fully in charge of my experience. In that situation, I would not understand nor would I be capable of maintaining that modern hot tub. If something went wrong, I'd be forced to call in an expert who would charge me a steep fee to get it working again. Those initial and ongoing repair costs simply do not fit with a frugal lifestyle.

There are times when I become frustrated with the time, effort, and complexity that this simple lifestyle calls for. It can be very inconvenient. And I confess that sometimes I daydream about things being easier, but I never second guess or doubt the advantages of the way we live. I just sometimes get irritated that the wood I'm burning tonight is of poor quality and dammit!, I was hoping to sink into those healing waters an hour ago! But hey, what's my hurry? Do I have some fancy social function to go to?