The stove

The stove, the vermiculite and the scorched earth!

We have a solid fuel stove. It’s inset into what was once an open fireplace. It’s inset tightly, there is no gap between it and the brick that surrounds it (at least there shouldn’t be). This is the design of the stove. It’s made to fit what is a standard sized fireplace.

Susan does a thing with the stove that is loud enough to wake the dead. She grabs a handle that when pulled and pushed rotates grates inside that causes ashes to fall through and the air intake to open. Unfortunately, it was also vigorous enough to move the stove just ever so slightly. This caused tiny amounts of vermiculite to emerge through tiny gaps between the stove and surrounding brick ( #trouble-maker ) . Vermiculite is an insulating substance that isolates the extreme heat of the stove from its immediate surrounds.

Every time some vermiculite emerged, Susan would attack me about it ( #devaluation #vitriol #lack-of-accountability ) . Every time some vermiculite emerged I often thought about reminding her that vigorous pushing and pulling was daft, crazy, unnecessary and would potentially cause problems of such magnitude that this vermiculite problem would be dwarfed completely. But then I thought better of mentioning that and didn’t, it was time to fix it ( #fawn-response #codependency ) .

Let’s rewind a year. Following a botched job by a “handyman” to remove a trip-hazard hearth, I got some stone cut especially to size, got some bricks, got some sand, cement, and other heat resistant stuff and built up a new smaller, neater hearth at the front of the stove. The front two legs of the stove rest on this new hearth. I took two days off work to do this, it was a learning experience for me, it was enjoyable and rewarding. I was delighted with the result. The only problem was of course, “no good deed goes unpunished”.

It’s your fault. You did a botch job. I should never have let you go near it. You don’t know what you’re doing” etc. etc ( #devaluation #blame-shifting #vitriol ) .

I’m not sure if my job on it was to blame or the previous handyman’s job was to blame, either way, there are civil ways of dealing with the situation and there are abusive ways of dealing with the situation. We choose the latter of course ( #belligerent ) .

My mechanic brother arrived one day as planned to help reset it better. we loosened the front legs slightly (they’re height adjustable for leveling purposes) then using a car jack we managed to ease it back the few millimeters it needed into position again. Furthermore, even after the stove was properly set, there were a couple of small gaps where the stuff could leak out, we stuffed in small amounts of tinfoil just to block the gaps. Probably not compliant with building regulations admittedly but it was safe and extremely effective. We tightened up the legs and then, OMG, panic, crap, Susan had just driven in. She’s home early from work, what the heck, how did we get so unlucky ( #fawn-response #control ) .

She walked in, she was not happy (and she didn’t even see the car jack, that had been moved back into the van just in time). She was cold. She was fuming underneath, I could tell ( #narcissistic-rage ) . There’s another story here but it’s for another time, cutting to the chase, my brother left, my wife erupted. During the process, some vermiculite had been dislodged and was on the floor when she walked in. We’re talking about half a cup full here, nothing of note. Now, I’m not sure what could have been on the floor to cause the level of rage that followed. Diamonds perhaps, burned deeds to the house, body parts, baby parts, I’ve no idea, I can’t think of anything. She took the roof off the house with the shouting and anger. The rage was one of the worst I can remember. It went on for days ( #narcissistic-rage #cruel #discard ) . Even now, years later, she shouts about the tinfoil, which is still there, still visible if you squint hard enough ( #devaluation #lack-of-empathy ) . Not one single fragment of vermiculite has leaked since. The stove is immovable now. It looks great on it’s bespoke custom made hearth. Yet when I look at it, all I can hear is the verbal nuclear explosions. I still feel that fear ( #trauma-bond ) . I can still see our daughter trembling as Susan unleashed hell on earth ( #cruel #control ) . Part of the narrative during her screaming was something about HER having paid for the vermiculite and ME having no respect for that by wasting it; or some such illogical nonsense ( #entitlement #blame-shifting #word-salad ) .

It’s just one example of the complete an utter lack of respect, lack of awareness, lack of empathy (the hatred inflicted on me, the trauma inflicted on our daughter), and entitlement (that the queen requires/demands better). In that transaction, I was merely a servant doing a bad job ( #devaluation #hierarchical-thinking ) .

The earth must be scorched to regain control and dominance.