There's nothing I like better on a frosty winter's day than a roaring wood fire in my living room fireplace. And there's nothing that drives me crazier than holier-than-thou eco-geeks who would deprive themselves of such pleasure because they think self-abnegation is synonymous with virtue. (You can read about such types in this Sunday NYT article.)
As I type these words, my hubby is stacking wood--real wood, not one of those fake wood log thingies that never crackles--in the hearth. As I enjoy the warmth and woodsy aroma, I will think of all those self-sacrificing souls--and pity them.