First you climb the roof to clean the stove pipe.
It’s a soapstone stove with catalytic combustor, but ash and creosote still accrete, so brushing’s needed once a year. Your wife’s in the house beside the stove, hugging the stovepipe with plastic bag under the pipe — a precaution against ashy house syndrome.
Meanwhile the man who supplies the wood has his machine.
You’ve got to keep the stove in working order.
Sometimes that means changing the combustor.
You’ve got to split the wood.
Today we don’t need it. But we’re ready now.
Your wife’s going to like the fire.