The Fireplace Fiasco
A holiday story of traditions, air quality, and health.
The quiet calm of early Christmas morning is a ritual I enjoy every year. While the rest of the family is still snoozing under their covers and the sun still hours from peaking over the horizon, I’ll head down to a silent and dark house. After plugging the Christmas tree lights in, I’ll sit for awhile in the glow of the tree’s multicolored LEDs, letting my thoughts wander. Sometimes I’ll meditate, sometimes I’ll read, sometimes I’ll ponder topics to write about.
Later I’ll put on a pot of coffee and then ready the fireplace for a Christmas fire. A sort-of tradition we started after moving into our current home with its functioning fireplace. However, as this repurposed Facebook post indicates, 2020’s Christmas morning wasn’t as quiet and peaceful as I had planned…
Adventures in Domestic Life: Holiday Edition
I’m commonly the first one up in our household, and this Christmas morning was no different. I enjoy being surrounded by the quiet – enveloped by the morning calm (minus the cat mewing for her food). Plus I had time to feed the animals, make my coffee, and get the fireplace going before everyone was up.
I had brought in the wood and kindling the night before. And opened the vent to warm up the flue when I came downstairs. It was below freezing outside so I even held a lit roll of paper up the vent to warm it a bit more before next using the roll to light the kindling.
A crackling fire would be a nice addition to the morning calm. But there was about to be no more calm.
As I’m sure many reading this already know, one likes a nice temperature delta between the outside and inside to get a good draft going up the flue. But the flue itself needs to be warmed up some to help get that draft going, as many of you also already know. I apparently did not warm the flue up enough, as smoke began pouring back out into the living room.
What the actual…
I grabbed the poker and quickly spread everything out since it was still just smoking, then began opening every window and turning on all of the exhaust fans. But before I even got the second window open, the smoke alarm at the top of the landing fulfilled it’s design intent, while also fulfilling a secondary role of announcing Christmas morning in the Harmon / Iwig household.
Well, at least they $/!%^*# work, I thought to myself as I finished that window. Moving on to the next I almost tripped over the dog who was now in full freak out mode. The cat had immediately fled to some hiding spot in the bowels of the basement.
By then Michelle and Cyrus were at the top of the stairs fanning the smoke detector asking if I’d forgotten to open the vent.
At some point after I inadvertently began fumigating the house, expletives began flying from my mouth (though probably not like the down of a thistle). In my haste to answer the two of them, as well as provide direction on opening the upstairs windows, they may have caught some expletive friendly fire. I can’t be sure, it’s a bit of a blur.
I next headed to the basement. After opening everything there I raced back up and again held a lit roll of paper up the vent long enough until I started seeing smoke heading up the flue. Then I remembered the back room and headed there to open that window up. At which point Connor finally emerged from their bedroom and asked, “Do you smell smoke?”
I stopped in my tracks. Connor appeared to regret the question. I was likely disheveled in appearance; probably a manic Jimmy Stewart look in my eyes. Smoke visibly wafting behind me in the morning sun streaming through the windows. Many, many potential responses going through my head. I simply said Yes, please open your window.
So breakfast and present opening this morning was a bit on the chilly side. But we finally cleared the house of smoke. The calm returned and we even got a nice fire going eventually. Kudos to my family for persevering through it good-naturedly. Not to mention we have much to be thankful for anyway, given the year it’s been.
It also became a good analogy to discuss how quickly aerosols can build up in poorly ventilated spaces, and how quickly you can get air exchanges to happen by opening up your windows and turning on your exhaust fans. Though I seemed to be the only one who appreciated the analogy.
Fireplace fires are warm and cozy, but they’re also a source of air pollution, both outdoors and indoors (even without the smoke pouring into your home), negatively impacting our individual and collective health. They’re also a source of greenhouse gas emissions. And these are two big reasons why we typically only have a fire going for special occasions. There are strategies for limiting the negatives, but you can’t eliminate them (except of course by not burning to begin with). Not to mention traditional fireplaces can be potentially dangerous if not well maintained (and even if well maintained sometimes). They’re also an extremely inefficient way to heat your home (if that’s your goal).
That’s certainly not our goal. We’re not trying to heat our home; more like warm our hearts on a cold morning as we gather together in celebration of both a holiday and our family. For me personally, it sparks memories of helping my dad bring in the wood, watching him ready the fireplace, light, and tend it. It connects me to my past and provides an opportunity to build lasting memories for my kids (even if of the comically disastrous nature).
But fires to gather around are also part of the human condition, stretching back far into our hunter-gatherer past. The rituals of cooking, eating, telling stories, dancing, and generally bonding together in small groups around a fire have helped shape who we are as a species. It shouldn’t be surprising that fireplaces, fire pits, and camp fires are still common in our contemporary world. But with 7.8 billion people on the planet, we probably need to more consistently apply strategies to equitably reduce the associated negative impacts.
Like avoiding filling your living spaces with fireplace smoke. Happy holidays all. May they be smoke free.