where wildly different is perfectly normal
Come on baby, light my fire
Come on baby, light my fire

Come on baby, light my fire

Our electric bills have been through the roof lately, so yesterday Tom and I met with Ed, a gentleman from our electric company, for a free energy audit. We were discussing electric vs. gas, and I commented that I wished we could rip out our gas fireplace (which we rarely use) and put in a wood or pellet stove. Ed recommended against it. And then said, “Put in an electric starter. Then you can turn on the fireplace on those special days, like Thanksgiving, Christmas, and when the husband comes home from work with a bottle of wine and hopes to get lucky.”

You really can’t make this stuff up.

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