Sometimes I don’t get around to things because they don’t seem worth the effort. That list includes baking my own bread (except for special recipes and/or occasions), making my own soap (Martha says it’s better, but I don’t believe her), and getting around to actually starting a fire in my fireplace.
I’ve lived in my house for one full winter, and I do thoroughly enjoy the fact that my living room has a fireplace. Even when it isn’t in use, the fireplace is pretty and makes me think of cozy fires that could potentially exist. What the fireplace didn’t do in the past year was inspire me to find/buy firewood, figure out whether my flue was open and adequately clean, or set a fire.
Then Scott got inspired for me. Without any real concern about flue cleanliness or lack of fire screen or tools, he set up the kindling and started a fire. I provided hot chocolate and moral support, which are really more up my alley. And not-so-long story super short, it was good. Peanut didn’t even try to leap into the flames because of the lack of screen.
You could argue that since it wasn’t my effort at all, I don’t have a say in this, but I think it was worth the effort. Watching a fire (that you know isn’t dangerous to anyone or anything) is fantastic. I highly recommend it. In fact, I recommend it so highly that it’s no longer on my “too much effort” list. Making my own soap, however, is going to stay on that list for many, many years.