Jeremiah Steele: Fire Crafter Extraordinaire

Since moving into The Yellow House, we've had our oil furnace in working order for a total of two weeks. Needless to say, our house has been cold. See-your-breath, huddle-over-food-on-the-stove, bust-out-gamer-mittens,  hover-over-the-toilet-seat, cold.

Jeremiah stoking a small
fire in our living room.

In our rooms, though, we each have space heaters. Our rooms are warm and cozy, thanks to the heaters. It seems that when we aren't cooking, warming our fingers over the stove, or playing video games, bundled with mittens and a pile of blankets, we are cozied up in our rooms. Don't get me wrong, I love my room. I get a lot done in it. It's strange though, to live in a house of five people that feels empty.

The first fire Jeremiah built was in our fireplace. That's right, The Yellow House has a fireplace. It is wondrous. We started moving our stuff from Moon Base the day before the big snow storm in January. We had all our kitchen supplies in the house by the time power got killed, but our clothes and bed were still at Moon Base. So, we drove back and forth; sleeping at Moon Base, cooking at The Yellow House.

Two days before Moon Base powered back up, we had electricity at The Yellow House. Kaylin, Jeremiah, and I, going stir crazy, decided a heatless house was preferable to a powerless apartment. We bundled up, gathered some food and supplies, and prepared to spend some time around a fire. It took Jeremiah an hour or so, but our wood finally dried out enough to really light up. Kaylin and I kept the coals stoked while Jeremiah was at work. We taped a fork to a stick and roasted weenies, and otherwise enjoyed our time until his shift was over.

The fire pit in our back yard at
The Yellow House.

Since this first fire, Jeremiah has built several more. Each time, he hones his technique finer. His first couple efforts, the fire would grow and appear healthy but suddenly die. This occurred several times before the fire was established. This happens rarely if ever, now. He's become well practiced at using the ashes from previous fires to direct the airflow beneath the one he's building. He's gotten more efficient at drying damp wood near the fire then cycling through to keep it burning. I watch him do all this, and I can see that it makes sense to him. But if my description is poor, it's because it doesn't make sense to me. When I watch him at work, I can see that he's got a plan and ideas and he's learning. But I only scratch the surface. I just don't get it. It's awesome.

Michaela and Josiah sun soaking
and jamming on our roof.

Jeremiah carrying a pilfered pallet
toward it's demise in our fire.

Last week, the sun showed up for a day. The sky was blue, the mountains were out, and we were finally rid of our winter coats. It was a happy dose of vitamin D before the six straight days of downpour we've experienced since.


The Yellow House crew took full advantage of that glorious day. We ate outside, took walks, played with Somewhere, and otherwise made excuses to be outside. On a whim, we decided to use the fire pit in our backyard for the first time. We used most of the wood stockpiled out back for fires inside, so Jeremiah and I went scavenging for pallets to break down. It took two trips to get four pallets home, but it was definitely worth the effort.

Miah and I testing our
mallow toasting skills.

Jeremiah smashed up a pallet with the axe that came with the house. We piled the wood near the fire pit for easy access, then made a quick run to the grocery store for sweets to roast. We realized then, that we didn't have any roasting sticks. Procuring them was another excuse to remain outside, which we appreciated. From trees that had fallen during January's storm, we gathered six or seven branches. We sharpened them with scissors and a pocket knife. Once finished, we were ready to start the fire.

J and K's roasting
sticks. Also useful for
vampire slaying. 

Before anyone else came home, we had the fire going strong. We wanted it started before it was dark. The pallets burned easy and incredibly hot. We spent about an hour together, keeping the fire alive and toasting marshmallows while we waited for our friends. We were worried that we'd run out of wood, but the pallet lasted even after everyone had come and left.

A little after dark, our friends and roomies started to arrive. There's something about sitting in a circle around a fire that makes conversation flow. From my experience, gatherings centered around conversation are rare. We didn't have TV, or even music, but I had an amazing time in the company of my pals.

Though technology wasn't present, we did have food - if you can call marshmallows food - which seems also contribute to the flow of conversation. In my opinion, only one thing beats a toasted marshmallow. Turns out, my husband is a pro mallow-roaster. He demonstrated this several times by forcing me to eat more marshmallows that anyone should ever eat in one sitting. Can't say I didn't enjoy it though. They were as brown as possible without turning black, evenly toasted on all sides, and hot to the center. Yum.

When Meghan (of the De La Rosa variety) got home, she opened our eyes to the one treat that beats toasted marshmallows: Banana Boats. She's described theses to me on several occasions, and I was beyond curious to try them. In our kitchen, she schooled me on their preparation. Once we'd made seven or eight and wrapped them all in foil, we gathered paper plates and plastic forks, and carted it all out to the fire. The foil-wrapped bananas, stuffed with bits of Milky Ways and marshmallows, were placed in the fire's coals and left for several minutes to cook. When Meghan deemed them ready, she removed them from the coals and set them aside to cool. Then we passed them around and dug in. We heard only sighs and chewing until they were devoured.

I'm fascinated by Jeremiah's proficiency at building fires. I almost feel bad that the task is mostly delegated to him. I try to help by gathering kindling and carrying wood, but I've learned the rest of the job is best left to him. He is officially the expert. Even more than I love the fires though, I love the people the fires bring together. When there's a fire in the living room, our roommates emerge from the cozy confines of their rooms. We get to hang out. Our big house feels full. When there's a fire in our yard, we get to ignore all the technology that distracts and entertains us, and focus instead on each other. My friends are really quite awesome. They're family, and more than worth my focus. As my husband has grown proficient at building fires, he's also grown proficient at gathering together people we love. How great is that?

Our friends, sitting around the first fire in our back yard. A sure sign of
a successful fire is when it ends with "Let's do this again."