Need to let the smoke out
Another entry in the “glad it isn’t me” journal.
First of all, this is not my story. But I wonder how things are going to play out. We’re on the cusp of winter; there’s a storm inbound, right now, and those balmy autumn temperatures risk being a fond memory in this area. So, someone in a proactive move, bought a wood stove. I’ll assume they got wood about the same time. We’re not all cut out to be lumber jacks.
The stove is in the house. The stovepipe is up. One pesky detail: between the outside and the inside there is a roof. A metal one. Now we’re moved beyond the skill set of a lumber jack. And, what with the generalized difficulty in getting a contractor to show up (money is no longer enough), the project is halted.
A shout out to the neighbours, province wide (we’re a smallish jurisdiction). If someone qualified can’t come by, the husband wants to get up on the roof (with a chainsaw? With a hacksaw? A chisel? Cut his own exit hole, to let the smoke out and finish an installation that is sliding off a rational timeline.
Again, this is not my story. But I fear for the outcome. Getting a large enough cutout, without the finishing materials, risks turning this into a very chilly winter. Do people plan ahead, or is this another nod to “Providence will provide” (as found on an ancient embroidered wall hanging. A century ago, getting the smoke out was a common skill. Nowadays, we just phone someone. Fun until there’s no reply.
