I appreciate that I am straying dangerously close to Mopsa territory here. Today I am talking about logs. My parents and I both installed wood burning stoves in our homes just before Christmas. Most of the conversations that I have with my Dad are about logs these days. If you think this is untrendy and a subject about which you give not a fig, and I respect your viewpoint, then what are you waiting for - you have a whole internet at your fingertips. But please come back tomorrow when I will most likely be slagging Hugh Firmly-Whitteringchops.
There is a common perception that burning logs is a greener way to heat a house than using fossil fuel. I'm not sure that this is true, surely burning anything releases the carbon back into the atmosphere. These things end up very confusing, don't they? I guess wood is renewable at least but I'm not trying to justify myself. If I could have afforded the expense and been bothered with the upheaval I would have fitted a thermal transfer pump instead. The potential of that really excites me.
But, when you have been out in the cold in the day time, there is nothing like sitting in front of a real fire at night. We generate a fair bit of wood around the farm so it is a low cost if not low carbon method of heating for us. We are about to run out of the properly seasoned willow logs which were stored in one of the barns at Welland House so we have started sawing up a very large poplar tree which fell in the wind last year.
Let me tell you. Poplar is an awful wood for a fire it's like trying to set light to a wet towel.
I once thought that one lot of wood was much like another lot of wood. I thought all wood burnt well. You probably still think that, you ignorant clown. Let me tell you from bitter experience, this is not the case. So here, to teach you a lesson, is a long poem (author unknown) on the subject. Memorise it please, I will be testing you in the future.
Beechwood fires are bright and clear
If the logs are kept a year,
Chestnut's only good they say,
If for logs 'tis laid away.
Make a fire of Elder tree,
Death within your house will be;
But ash new or ash old,
Is fit for a queen with crown of gold.
Birch and fir logs burn too fast
Blaze up bright and do not last,
it is by the Irish said
Hawthorn bakes the sweetest bread.
Elm wood burns like churchyard mould,
E'en the very flames are cold
But Ash green or Ash brown
Is fit for a queen with golden crown.
Poplar gives a bitter smoke,
Fills your eyes and makes you choke,
Apple wood will scent your room
Pear wood smells like flowers in bloom
Oaken logs, if dry and old
keep away the winter's cold
But Ash wet or Ash dry
a king shall warm his slippers by.
Basically (Oh, it's Matthew again BTW, the poem has finished now) it's ash every time. There's no mention of broken pallets in there which is my next option.
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