We’re going through a lot of firewood. Lance and Brad know how much since they do all the hauling, splitting, and and the boiler fire fixing. Brad keeps the basket by our sitting room stove full of dry oak and tamarack wood which I really enjoy this winter. For a fresh new fire I have only to lay in a handful of crumpled paper, crisscross the tamarack over it and light it with a match. In minutes we have a snapping, crackling fire woofing up the chimney. Thank you, boys, for your hard work.
In school all three of the children are solving equations at each their own level. “Whatsoever thou doest to one side of the equation; thou must surely do to the other” is the rule these days. Brad enjoys it the most, and Amy wishes for equations to go away, while poor Frances is like her mother and hopes that she can somehow believe that math really will be consistent as it is purported to be.
Skating and sledding and snowmobiling are happening, too. Lance found another functioning snowmobile and “bought it for Frances for her birthday.” You should have seen her smile. No really, he says it Frank’s machine, but the truth is he is tired of fixing his own newer, more powerful sled (It spends most of the winter in the shop), and hopes that this one will be more dependable. It’s embarrassing to invite out of state friends to come in winter and two days before they come it ends in the shop, again.