Is there anything in the land of home decorating that says “coziness and charm” more than a fireplace? Ok, yes, an actual sign that says “coziness and charm” would probably do better but I am known for my subtlety and nuance.
In SOME places where people have not actually MET me I am known for subtlety and nuance!
Fireplaces. We all want them. You can live in Mesa, Arizona where the average temperature is higher than my credit score and still want a fireplace.
I, and this will be a shock to no one, haven’t had the best luck with fireplaces.
The fireplace in my first home was decent, but I had a baby/toddler, so I was too afraid of it.
The fireplace in my home in England was fake. It was a heating unit with exposed coils that had fake glowing coals mounted on top that “flickered” by way of a fan that would spin when heated by the lightbulbs within. Except one of the lightbulbs burned out the month after we moved there, causing our “fire” to only glow to the left which made the little fan function like a merry-go-round being operated by a drunk, hostile clown.
The first home Himself and I lived in had the worlds most menacing looking woodburning fireplace, and I wouldn’t touch it for fear that it would come to life like some demonic parody of the stove from “Beauty and the Beast.”
And then, there is the house we live in now.
My track record remains untarnished.
Allow me to illustrate. Literally.
Here, we have your typical piece of urban charm.
So, then we have MY fireplace.
My fireplace does not give me that picture.
I know, I know….you’re stunned and fanning yourself with a Venus catalogue, aren’t you?
Here is my fireplace:
Our fireplace maxes out its comfort level at the heat of your typical pair of hands rubbed together as long as it’s not TOO briskly.
There is some updraft vacuum vortex that makes the lighting of actual logs with actual matches about as likely as Amy Winehouse winning the nobel prize in physics and/or hair.
Fortunately, my fireplace comes with a gas starter.
Note that I did NOT say I have a gas fireplace.
No, cause that’s what those goddamned annoying NORMAL HOUSES have, and we can’t have any of THAT now can we?
We have a gas starter.
So, what we have to do is: turn a valve, listen for the outrageously loud hissing that communicates that gas is flooding into the box, then strike a match.
And then we have this:
Yes. I have that IN MY FAMILY ROOM.
My family room can go from zero to pile-of-ash in 14.6 seconds.
Do you not all wish you were me?
Or, do you not all wish you were my insurance agent?
But the good news? I can toast a marshmallow in that fireplace while sitting in my bathtub.
So take that.