Bad Maths, Good Fire.

It’s 72 degrees and sunny as I write this, but September is nearly upon us, and I’ve been making inquiries for the supply and delivery of one cord of kiln-dried hardwood for our two log burner stoves. This year, the price is coming in around $1,000, and yes, firewood runs at a steep premium here in Ireland. As with everything, the price keeps rising every year. Inflation in action.

But here’s the thing: I don’t need to buy the wood. I’ve a perfectly fine oil-fired furnace feeding the radiators throughout the house. I’ve also got at least five cords of firewood stored out back, courtesy of a tree felled by a winter storm last year and my chainsaw.

So the question has to be asked: why am I dropping $1,000 on kiln-dried hardwood?

On paper, the maths makes absolutely no sense. I filled my 300-gallon oil tank for $1,200 recently, which works out to $4.00 a gallon. Let’s run the numbers on cost per 10,000 BTUs of actual heat delivered into the house.

Oil, at 85% boiler efficiency, delivers 117,000 useful BTUs per gallon. At $4.00 a gallon, that’s 34 cents per 10,000 BTUs.

A cord of kiln-dried hardwood holds roughly 26 million raw BTUs. At 75% stove efficiency, that’s 19.5 million useful BTUs for my $1,000, or 51 cents per 10,000 BTUs.

That means the kiln-dried wood is a staggering 50% more expensive than simply turning up the thermostat. By the numbers, the boiler wins, hands down.

But here is where the logic falls apart.

Yes, I have five cords of free wood out back. But it’s still green, nowhere near dry enough to burn clean. Try it now and you get smoke and spitting sparks, not heat, and a chimney caked in creosote for your trouble.

The oil boiler out in the garage is efficient, silent, and soulless. It kicks in with a dull hum, and somewhere below the floor, water pushes through pipe and radiator, warming the bones without doing anything for the soul. There’s no flicker to watch and no crackle to hear. It ticks quietly in the background of the room rather than at the centre of it.

The stove, on the other hand, is the heartbeat of this house. Those kiln-dried logs aren’t just fuel; they’re an experience: they arrive clean, stack neatly, and catch with a satisfying whoosh, the glass glowing amber within minutes. The crackle, the scent, the flickering flame is not a luxury you can measure in BTUs. It turns a cold winter evening into an event, makes the sofa feel softer and the wine taste better.

So, will I spend $1,000 on one cord of kiln-dried hardwood? Absolutely.

Not because it’s cheaper than oil, it isn’t. I’m paying for the privilege of switching off the boiler and replacing it with the heat of a real fire. Sometimes the suboptimal financial choice is the best life choice.

Bad maths. Good fire. I’ll take that trade any day and feel grateful I can.