I discovered a magical thing this week — the Yule Log on Netflix. I don’t think my husband likes it but I have fallen in love. I have always wanted to live somewhere with a fireplace, must be some nostalgia from my childhood in Alaska. Even though, in all honestly, we hardly even used our fireplace growing up — something about it actually making the house colder. Nonsense, I say.
Since leaving home I’ve never had the opportunity to live anywhere with a fireplace. Enter the yule log — oh magical yule log with its hypnotizing flicker. You can hear cracklings from the fire occasionally over the Christmas music, which is thankfully all instrumental. It may just be a video of a fire slowly burning, but it’s an excellent substitution for the real thing.
In fact, I may have gotten so cozy curled up on the couch that my husband caught me pretending to warm my hands by the TV screen. I tried to play it off, but I don’t think he believed me. And it’s been downhill from there. He thinks it’s creepy so he refuses to be in the same room when it’s on. Thus it’s become my guilty pleasure. If he’s at work, you will find me cuddled up with some boozy hot cocoa enjoying the yule log. On repeat.