Well, we are finally with gas log. We got the last flexible connection that the Home Depot near us had (this one set up to bend properly) and connected it, checked it for leaks, then spread the crackling ash and "glowing embers," added the grate and the "logs," and turned it on. It crackles and spits quite nicely. I have another bag of glowing embers and need to add them around the edges where I'm still seeing blue gas flame.

We had a gas log in the old place courtesy a sale at Home Depot Expo Center and a well-timed housewarming gift card. We had trouble installing that one as well because John and Juanita, who'd had the house before us, liked real fires and had used the gas starter. After dozens of fires, the pipes were pretty well melded together. Having installed his own gas log, Jerry came over to help us with this one. It basically had to be cut out of the fireplace with the blade of a mototool.

The first thing he had to do was take the metal plates off the sides of the firebox to work in there. Our dog at the time, Leia, was at once suspicious. You could read this dog's face like a book. She watched Jerry in bewilderment, then looked at James. "Daddy, why is that man taking our house apart?"

But if that was puzzling for her, the look of astonishment on her face the first time Jerry lit the flame was priceless. She kept looking from Jerry to James to me with this wide-eyed stare. "Daddy—that's a fire. I know what that is and it's a fire. Is there supposed to be a fire in the house?"

To reassure her I petted her and told her soothingly but jokingly "It's okay, Leia. It's a tame fire." (This later became a running gag.)

Finally everything was reassembled, the ash and embers and logs on the grate, and the fire crackling merrily. Doglike, Leia noticed it was also warm there and settled down in front of the hearth.

Part of what makes the gas log resemble a real fire is the presence of crackling ash or little pumice stones that lay over the gas jets. They pop and crackle and sometimes one will get hot enough to pop out of the fireplace. One did and plunked Leia right on the flank. It didn't burn her, but the sting added insult to injury. She never lay down in front of the fire again.

I'll tidy up in front of the fireplace tomorrow, so for now Willow can't lie on her bed in front of it. So we don't know yet whether she'll like the "tame fire" or not.

Labels: house, memories

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. . . . . noted and logged by Linda at 10:37:00 PM

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