Having a fire is new -- I called Steve, our handyman, earlier this week, to have him give us an estimate on a tricky job of hanging a new ceiling lamp. We thought about trying to do it ourselves, but decided better to leave it to a professional. We didn't really think it would be a good idea to have our ceiling come crashing down on our dining table. And while Steve was giving the job a look prior to giving us our estimate, he took a look at our gas fireplace too, which we thought was broken. Instead, it turns out that it works just fine -- we just couldn't figure out how to turn it on. I felt moderately dumb when he showed me how easy it was to turn on. But it was worth feeling dumb to gain the gift of fire, and now I take great pleasure in my little fire. I could just turn the heat up in the apartment overall, of course, but there's something so pleasing about toasting in front of a fire, having half of your body slowly get too warm, and then turning about in your chair, so that the other half can get equally warm. Fires make me happy.