When I was a child, our house was heated by two stoves that burned wood. In winter, the cook stove in the kitchen burned steadily. After some rather messy modifications done by Dad, it functioned as a hot water heater too. The water circulated through a hot water jacket in the firebox and was piped to a large tank with a temperature gauge.
Dad kept an eagle eye on that gauge. When it crept too high, he would ask, "Who wants a nice hot bath?" We all understood this was not a question. I volunteered often, and learned to love the heat of the water in the drafty cold of the winter bathroom.
Both the kitchen stove and the small Quebec heater in the living room threw a lot of cosy heat, provided you didn't move too far from them. My mother cooked in the wood stove till long after I left home, when she finally got an electric range.
On the farm, Mom had used sad irons. These were heated on the stove and held with a special holder. The cast iron held heat well, but a second one stayed on the stove for when the first cooled down. When we moved to town, Mom got a dry electric iron, used. The first steam iron was a big deal.
The pop-up toaster was also a great innovation. Previous to that, we used to toast bread in a wire cage on top of the stove. When we did the same later at Guide Camp, my girls said we were like pioneers.
Upon arrived in Terrace, we got a telephone. The very last word in communications technology, it was fastened to the wall and designed so you could dial any number without having to ask the operator to connect you. And a private line meant no one could listen in.
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