I've lived back on the farm now for 32 years and we've burned wood every winter in this stove that Gpa. Ira Horack put in the basement when he built the house in 1929.
It does a wonderful job. I grew up hauling wood for this stove when my dad had to cut it down with a hand saw and then into pieces with a buzz saw mounted on the front of the tractor. Any splitting he did was done with wedges and a sledge hammer.
Why this thought has suddenly come into my head after all these years is a mystery.
For the last few months, whenever I get ready to put something in the trash to be burned, I hear Mother saying "Here, Anita, take this down and put it in the furnace". I had forgotten all about it. Back then we had very little plastic, probably only bread sacks, paper and cardboard were burned in the furnace in the winter. Milk came from the barn and was put in glass jugs. There were no boughten cookies, chips, or all that other stuff that is in plastic. Mother used plastic containers to put fruit and vegetables in the freezer but they were all reusable. Meat was wrapped in butcher paper that burned. I have been puzzled why that thought has resurfaced after all this time. But it really doesn't matter. It's a fun memory. Another thought: IF I had $1.00 for every piece of wood I've handled, I'd be a very wealthy person!!
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