Cleaning Out the Log Burner
September is a curious month—teetering on the edge of autumn, but not quite there. The rain and dampness arrive, tricking you into thinking that autumn has firmly settled in, only for a freakishly warm day or an unexpected Indian summer spell to roll through. Yet, in these moments of change, one thing remains certain: autumn is coming. And with it, the cozy rituals that make the season so special. September, for us, is a month of preparation, and part of that is readying our beloved log burner for the colder days ahead.
We adore our log burner, and not just for its practical purpose. There's a deep sense of comfort it brings—its warmth and ambience transforming the room into something magical, almost sacred. The kind of warmth that not only heats your bones but your spirit too. The flickering flames dancing across the logs is as captivating as any good film, pulling you into their hypnotic rhythm and making the room feel alive.
But before we can enjoy the first fire of the season, there’s work to be done. The log burner, still holding the residual ash from last winter’s fires, needs a good clean. The ash, grey and soft, is emptied, but not before we use it for an age-old trick—cleaning the soot off the glass. Rubbing a damp cloth into the ash works wonders, clearing away the smudged memories of last season’s fires. The cinder brick cladding is checked, the seals inspected, and the burner itself polished, ready for another season of warmth.
Of course, we can’t neglect the chimney. A call to Max, our cheery chimney sweep, is made. He comes by to give it a thorough clean, ensuring that everything is safe and ready for the coming months. And then, there’s Andy—the Log Man. His arrival, with a truckload of logs, signals the final step in the preparation. We take an hour, usually one of the boys and I, to stack the logs carefully in the store. There’s something ritualistic about it, the rhythmic stacking of wood, the shared time to chat, or simply just be. These moments, seemingly small, are the ones that remind me of how fleeting time can be. I cherish them because they won’t always be there. One day, the boys will be grown, and it will just be me and the logs.
With the log burner cleaned and the wood store brimming, we’re ready. We wait for the first truly cold day, the one that sends you looking for a thick jumper and a blanket. And when it arrives, the preparation will have been worth it. The kindling is carefully laid, the match is struck, and the fire show begins. There’s something so evocative about lighting the first fire of the season. The room, darkened by the early autumn night, is bathed in the warm, flickering glow of the flames. The fire draws us all to the sitting room, a space that becomes the heart of the home once the burner is alight.
In the quiet moments, when the logs crackle and pop, it’s easy to lose yourself in thought, to feel the world outside fade away as the warmth wraps itself around you. By morning, the fire will have died down to embers, a glowing reminder of the comfort it brought the night before. But it will be ready, waiting for the next opportunity to bring that sense of coziness that every sitting room needs.
As September slips into full autumn, I find myself grateful for these rituals—the cleaning of the burner, the stacking of the logs, the lighting of the fire. Each task brings with it a sense of purpose and a reminder of the simple joys that come with the change in season. The log burner is ready now, prepared to welcome us through the colder months, offering warmth and light when the world outside feels dark and damp. And with each fire lit, we settle into the rhythm of autumn, knowing that these moments, like the flames, are to be cherished.