Category: Wood Burning Stove

Revised ASA ruling shows why evidence matters in the wood burning debate

charnwoodstoves
17 Jul 2026

The Stove Industry Association has responded to a revised Advertising Standards Authority ruling that relates to two historical claims about modern wood burning stoves. The ruling followed an Independent Review, which found a substantial flaw in part of the original published assessment and led to the case being reopened and reconsidered. 

Although the ASA’s overall decision remains unchanged, and the original wording would have benefited from greater qualification, the revised ruling is still important for the wider debate. The revised assessment clarifies the limitations of using National Atmospheric Emissions Inventory (NAEI) evidence when comparing the performance of individual appliance types. That distinction really matters because broad national data can be misunderstood andshould not be used on its own to suggest that a modern Ecodesign stove performs in the same way as an older stove or an open fire. 

Modern stoves should be judged fairly 

At Charnwood, we have long argued that the conversation around wood burning needs to be more precise. Open fires, older appliances and modern Ecodesign compliant stoves are not the same thing. A modern stove is designed to burn dry wood more efficiently, with far greater control over the combustion process and much more useful heat delivered into the room. 

This does not mean modern stoves are 100% emission free, or that good practice no longer matters, but it is fair that they should be judged on the right evidence and in the right context. A stove’s installation, the quality of the fuel and how it is used all influence performance. That is why responsible burning, dry wood (<20% moisture) and regular maintenance are still so important. 

The revised ASA ruling recognises the need for proper qualification, but it also removes wording from the original assessment that risked creating an inaccurate impression of modern stove technology. That is a positive step, not just for the industry, but for consumers and policymakers who all need clear information. 

The practical route to cleaner burning 

The best way to improve air quality is not to confuse all wood burning into one category. It is to focus on replacing the worst forms of burning with better technology and better practice. Open fires and older appliances are up to 90% less efficient than modern stoves and so are where much of the opportunity for improvement sits. In London, for example, around 70% of wood burning still occurs on open fires. If people were widely encouraged to switch to one of the many modern and efficient wood-burning stoves available, it would massively reduce urban PM 2.5 emissions.  

Clearer evidence and greater resilience  

Modern wood burning has an important role to play. It provides warmth, supports household resilience and makes use of a fuel that can often be sourced locally, while cleaner stove technology continues to improve how wood is burned in the home. 

That feels especially relevant at a time when resilience is becoming part of a wider national conversation. A recent Guardian article reported that the UK Government is urging households to take “small but important steps” to prepare for potential national crises, including severe weather, cyber attacks and disruption to essential services. Home heating should absolutely be part of that discussion. A modern wood burning stove is not a complete answer to national resilience, but it can form part of a sensible household plan by providing dependable heat when electricity or central heating systems are unavailable. For many homes, especially in rural areas, that secondary source of warmth offers real reassurance as well as comfort. 

The revised ASA ruling is therefore a useful reminder that evidence matters. Claims about stove performance need to be clear, and the data used to support those claims must be interpreted carefully. At Charnwood, we fully support that approach and believe that cleaner air and modern wood burning can move forward together, but only if the debate recognises the difference between older forms of burning and the modern appliances being designed, tested and used today. 

You can read the full SIA article here 

Modern wood-burning stoves deserve a fair hearing in new homes

charnwoodstoves
20 Jun 2026

A recent BMJ article critiques the stove industry’s engagement with government over proposals that could have restricted wood-burning stoves in new homes, and it frames the industry as having behaved improperly by lobbying. We believe that framing is unfair, as this is not about shutting down debate or avoiding accountability. It is about making sure decisions are based on solid evidence and a clear understanding of how modern appliances differ from older forms of burning. 

At Charnwood, we believe cleaner air and resilient homes can go hand in hand. Continued advancements in stove technology, responsible fuel use and the replacement of older appliances offer a practical way forward, while modern stoves can provide dependable secondary heat during power cuts or periods of energy uncertainty. We’re not making a case for wood burning to be exempt from scrutiny, but for modern stoves to be judged fairly on the evidence and their real world performance. 

Accuracy is not silence 

The BMJ article criticises the Stove Industry Association’s engagement with the Scottish Government and UK departments. However, speaking with policymakers is a normal and necessary part of democratic decision making, particularly when proposed rules could affect households and the businesses that support them. 

Engagement does not mean opposing cleaner air. It means asking for policy that targets the highest emitting forms of burning while recognising the progress made in modern stove technology. When councils, campaigners or media reports use “wood burning” as a catch all term, they risk confusing the public and directing attention away from where the greatest improvements can be made. 

Not all wood burning is the same Modern new-build home with wood-burning stove installed as secondary heating

Air quality absolutely matters, and the stove industry will continue to play its part in improving it. A first step is recognising that open fires, older appliances and modern Ecodesign compliant stoves are not the same. Modern stoves are designed to burn dry wood much more efficiently and with substantially lower particulate emissions (up to 90% less) than the technologies they replace, while delivering far more useful heat into the home. 

Recognising that difference is not an attempt to avoid regulation but is essential to developing fair, evidence led policy. If the goal is cleaner air, the most effective route is to replace the worst forms of burning with the best available technology, while continuing to improve fuel quality and household burning practice. 

Read our essential stove tips here 

The latest data shows progress 

The BMJ article quotes Defra figures showing that PM2.5 emissions attributed to wood fuel are higher than 20 years ago. That statistic needs context. 

Over that same broad period, stove technology has changed significantly and the recent direction of travel is important. UK Government emissions reporting shows that total PM10 and PM2.5 emissions from domestic combustion fell by 26% between 2018 and 2024. This coincides with the introduction of Ecodesign requirements for solid fuel room heaters from January 2022 and improved fuel standards, including restrictions on the sale of wet wood in England. 

The latest figures suggest that policies focused on better appliances and drier fuel are helping to move particulate emissions in the right direction. So surely the sensible approach is to build on that progress, not ignore it. 

Why new homes still need resilient heat 

The BMJ article reports industry warnings that a ban could harm the economy, lead to redundancies and worsen fuel poverty. Those concerns are very real and all matter, but resilience is another important part of the discussion that is often overlooked. Modern wood-burning stoves give households a dependable secondary source of heat, particularly in rural and off-grid areas, as the SIA highlighted in its response. 

New homes are increasingly designed around electricity and heat pumps, supported by tighter building standards. These are an important part of the future, but they remain vulnerable to power cuts, rising prices and pressure on the wider energy system. A modern stove gives households another option, allowing them to heat the room they are using and stay warm when other systems are under strain. At a time of global uncertainty, removing a reliable source of heat from new homes would reduce both choice and resilience. 

Health, wellbeing and the life of the home 

The debate around wood burning is often reduced to emissions alone. Emissions matter, and we spend a great deal of time improving them. But a home is more than just the technology that heats it. They are places where people gather, rest and live. 

As Mike Parrott reflected in our recent Charnwood interview, the hearth has long been more than a source of heat. It gives a room a centre. It draws people together. It makes warmth visible and shared. That does not mean ignoring air quality. It means recognising that policy should consider the whole picture, including cleaner technology, household resilience, rural life, affordability and wellbeing. 

A better path forward 

We support sensible, evidence based measures that improve air quality. The practical route is to replace open fires and older appliances with modern Ecodesign stoves, use dry certified fuel, support good burning practice and enforce existing rules fairly, while continuing to improve appliance technology. This protects air quality without losing the unique benefits modern wood burning brings to households. 

ASA ruling shows why the wood-burning debate needs balance and evidence

charnwoodstoves
20 Jun 2026

Alongside the Stove Industry Association, we support the Advertising Standards Authority ruling against Brighton & Hove City Council’s “Cosy Killer” campaign, which linked higher winter particle pollution near four primary schools to “wood burners and open fires”. The recent ruling matters because it reinforces something we have long argued for at Charnwood. Public discussions about air quality must be accurate, balanced and properly evidenced. Clean air is important, and concerns about pollution should always be taken seriously, but strong public claims need strong evidence behind them, especially when they risk causing confusion around modern wood-burning stoves. 

In this case, the ASA found that the council’s advert was misleading because it implied that wood burners and open fires were responsible for the reported rise in particle pollution around the schools. While the council had data showing higher PM2.5 levels in colder months, the ASA concluded that this did not prove wood burning was the cause because higher pollution in winter does not automatically point to one source. Air quality is shaped by many factors, including weather, Saharan dust, local geography, traffic, heating use and other combustion sources. Public campaigns should help people understand that picture clearly, rather than reduce a complex issue to a simple slogan to suit an agenda. 

Not all domestic burning is the same Modern Ecodesign wood-burning stove in a living room, producing low-emission heat

One recurring problem in the wood-burning debate is that open fires, older appliances and modern Ecodesign stoves are often discussed as though they are the same thing. However, a modern stove is a very different appliance from an open fire.  

Firstly, it is sealed, but it’s also designed to burn fuel far more efficiently, with strict EcoDesign emissions and efficiency standards in place. When used correctly with dry wood fuel, a modern Ecodesign stove produces significantly lower particulate emissions than older technologies and gives far more useful heat into the room. 

Cleaner air comes from practical improvements 

The best route to cleaner air is not to confuse people or use fear, but to work towards honest practical progress. That means replacing open fires and older appliances with modern Ecodesign stoves, using dry wood fuel, maintaining chimneys and appliances properly, and helping people understand how to burn well. These measures focus on where the biggest improvements can be made while preserving the benefits that modern wood burning brings to households. 

For many people, a stove is not simply a source of heat. It offers real comfort, genuine resilience, and a sense of connection in the home. It can help households heat the room they are using, reduce pressure on their main heating system, and provide reassurance during power cuts or periods of high energy prices. Those benefits cannot be ignored, but we are in absolute agreement that they must go hand in hand with responsible use.  

Read our essential stove tips here 

Accuracy helps everyone 

At Charnwood we support honest conversations about air quality because we believe that cleaner air and modern wood burning can move forward together. We have spent more than 50 years improving stove design, reducing emissions and helping people heat their homes more efficiently. That work continues through cleaner combustion technology and intelligent stoves that make good burning easier in everyday life. 

The SIA’s response to the ASA ruling does not dismiss air quality concerns, but calls for a better conversation. One that recognises the differences between appliance types, fuel quality and how people actually use their stoves at home. 

 

Bridges by Dammy Ponnuthurai

charnwoodstoves
06 Jun 2026

“Be still, and know that I am God.” — Psalm 46:10

The French phrase for the public holidays of May is faire le pont, or to make the bridge. It describes the habit of taking an extra day off to join a public holiday to the weekend, but it also suggests something gentler: the idea that rest is not an interruption to life, but a crossing into another way of inhabiting it. The French seem to treat rest with a seriousness we often reserve for work. A very old friend of mine gently mocks my love of French cinema, which he says consists mostly of pauses, cigarettes and people looking out of windows. But perhaps that is exactly why I love it. French films understand the importance of what happens between events: the glance, the silence, the weather in a room.

In a culture increasingly shaped by speed and distraction, this can feel quietly radical. To stop long enough to notice the light changing across a wall. To sit without reaching for something. To allow a thought to arrive fully before replacing it with another.

In The Private Life of Plants, David Attenborough observed, that if you condense three months into twenty seconds, “the desolation of Winter quickly warms into the riot of Spring.” Time often moves like that. Entire seasons disappear before we have properly inhabited them.

The May holidays always seem to mark this threshold. Winter begins to leave not dramatically, but theatrically, as though exiting a stage. Then June arrives and the body begins to trust warmth again. Winter coats are folded away. Windows remain open later into the evening. Picnics, long lunches and plans made almost absent-mindedly begin to fill the weeks ahead.

Even the fire changes character. In winter, it offers enclosure: warmth gathered against darkness. But in the early summer months, a stove lit late in the evening feels different. It is less protective than companionable. The warmth no longer stands against the cold so much as extends the day gently into night.

There is something faintly childlike about sitting beside a fire in summer. It recalls the feeling of being with an older relative whose calm presence alone could alter the atmosphere of a room. As children, we often resist slowness. Later, we begin to understand that it may be one of the conditions necessary for attention, for thought, even for joy.

Increasingly, it feels as though our minds are being trained away from wandering, from lingering, from the slow associative drift by which one thought quietly leads to another. Efficiency has become so dominant that curiosity itself can begin to feel indulgent unless it proves its usefulness.

Even rest now risks becoming instrumentalised. We speak of “recharging” as though human beings were devices. But the deepest forms of rest are often the least measurable: an afternoon dissolved in conversation, the sound of rain against a window, the absent-minded tending of a fire.

Perhaps this is why certain rituals endure. A fire gathers the senses. It slows the room. It reminds us that not everything valuable announces itself immediately. Sometimes the door only needs to open slightly, and imagination will do the rest.

Warm homes matter as energy bills rise again

charnwoodstoves
30 May 2026

With Ofgem confirming that the energy price cap will rise by 13% from July, many households will once again be thinking carefully about how they heat their homes. For a typical dual-fuel household paying by Direct Debit, the annualised cap will rise from £1,641 to £1,862 for the period from 1 July to 30 September 2026. That is around £18 more per month if this is sustained over a year. 

Cost, carbon emissions and air quality are all important, but there is another part of the conversation that should not be overlooked. Warmth itself really matters. The Stove Industry Association has highlighted this in its recent article, Why Warm Homes Matter for Health and Wellbeing, which is well worth reading in full. 

Staying warm at home is essential, particularly for older people and those with existing health conditions. UK Government cold-weather guidance states that anyone can become unwell if they get too cold, and advises people to heat the rooms they spend a lot of time in to at least 18°C where possible. 

Warmth supports health 

Our bodies work hard to maintain a stable temperature, therefore when a home becomes too cold, the body has to work harder too, and so prolonged exposure to cold indoor conditions can affect far more than comfort. The World Health Organization’s housing and health guidance recognises that indoor temperatures should be high enough to protect people from the harmful effects of cold, with 18°C proposed as a safe indoor temperature for general populations in colder seasons. It also notes that vulnerable groups may need warmer indoor temperatures. 

Cold homes can place extra strain on the cardiovascular system, worsen respiratory problems and affect mental wellbeing, sleep and daily comfort. It also notes that damp and cold homes can increase mould risk, particularly for people with asthma. This is why warmth should sit alongside air quality and carbon when we talk about heating policy. A healthy home needs affordable warmth and proper ventilation.  

Choice and resilience matter 

For many households, especially in rural or off-grid areas, having more than one way to heat the home provides a real sense of reassurance. Energy prices can change quickly, while severe weather and power cuts can happen at the worst possible time. In those moments, a modern wood-burning stove can be a genuine life saver by offering dependable heat from a locally available fuel source. 

The SIA has long argued that modern, efficient stoves should be recognised for their role in affordable warmth, consumer choice and household energy security. A modern Ecodesign stove using dry, seasoned wood fuel can sit alongside other heating technologies, including heat pumps and solar. It allows a household to heat the room they are using, reduces pressure on the main heating system and helps families retain independence when the grid is under strain. 

Responsible heating is the key 

Air quality matters deeply, and modern wood burning must always be done responsibly. That means choosing a modern, efficient stove, having it installed and maintained properly, using dry fuel at 20% moisture or below, and following the manufacturer’s guidance for clean, efficient burning. Good stove practice is essential and makes a huge difference to emissions.

Use our stove calculator to find the right size for your room.

Read our Essential Stove Tips here 

A balanced way forward 

At Charnwood we believe modern wood burning has an important role to play. A modern Charnwood stove provides efficient heat, unrivalled comfort and resilience, while modern clean burn technology continues to reduce emissions and improve everyday use. 

As energy bills rise once again, the answer should not be to narrow household choice. It should be to help people heat their homes well, safely and responsibly. Warm homes matter, and modern wood-burning stoves is one key way of helping provide that warmth when it is needed most. 

Fired Up 3: tales of connection, creativity and the place we call home

charnwoodstoves
21 May 2026

A real fire does more than warm a room. It changes the way a space feels, how people gather and how the day gently slows, which is the spirit behind Fired Up 3, the latest edition of our Charnwood zine. 

This third issue brings the focus closer to the homes, people and everyday rituals that surround our stoves. Through a series of thoughtful conversations with designers, makers, writers and stove specialists, Fired Up explores the role a stove can play in daily life, not simply as a source of heat, but as a centre point for comfort and connection. 

The issue brings together interviews conducted by Dammy Ponnuthurai, with design and cover artwork by Mark Lazenby. 

You can read the full issue here: 

https://www.charnwood.com/wp-content/uploads/2026/04/Fired-Up-3-Zine-web.pdf 

A stove at the centre of the room

Across the issue, one idea returns again and again, which is that a stove gives a room its centre. Interior designer Leanne Kilroy speaks about fitting a Charnwood Cranmore 7 at home and how it completely changed the way her family used the space. What had once been a room too cold to enjoy in winter became part of daily life again, with chairs turned towards the fire and the whole room naturally revolving around it. 

That feeling will be familiar to many Charnwood owners, whose homes have been transformed by their wood-burning stove becoming their focal point. 

Homes shaped by feeling 

Fired Up 3 also looks closely at the emotional life of interiors, particularly the way thoughtful design can make a home feel calmer, warmer and more personal. Patricia Rodi describes beginning a project not with a look, but with a feeling: calm, grounded, generous, intimate. Her reflections capture something we believe deeply at Charnwood, that good design should serve real life and make a home feel more settled, more useful and more human. 

For Patricia, firelight gives a room structure and calm, softening the edges of the day and bringing continuity to the home. The stove is much more than decoration, it becomes almost architectural, shaping how people sit, pause and spend time together. 

Beauty, comfort and function 

Rachel Ashwell, founder of Shabby Chic, brings another beautiful perspective to the issue, with reflections on restoration, imperfection and the quiet beauty of things that have been lived with. Speaking about her Charnwood stove, Rachel describes the simple ritual of laying kindling, placing logs and letting the fire take command of the room. It is a lovely reminder that the practical and the poetic often meet in the same place, because a stove provides warmth while also bringing beauty, rhythm and a sense of occasion to everyday life. 

Colour, warmth and family life 

Emma Paton’s home brings colour and joy into the conversation, as her interview explores the confidence to use colour, the move from London to Suffolk and the way the countryside has changed her family’s daily rhythm. 

Emma’s Charnwood stoves are part of that life, and she describes the pleasure of lighting a fire at the end of the day or as the weather cools, creating a feeling of warmth, safety and home. For her family, and particularly for their dog Astrid, the stove has become a natural gathering point in an old, characterful house. 

The meaning of the hearth 

One of the most reflective conversations in this issue is with Mike Parrott, who writes about the hearth as the heart of the home and speaks of fire as something that makes warmth visible. He describes the hearth as a place that draws people together, asks them to linger and gives the home a shared focus. His words feel particularly resonant in an age of invisible heating systems and constant distraction, when the simple act of gathering around a visible flame can feel quietly restorative. 

This is not nostalgia for its own sake, but a reminder that homes are shaped by the habits and rituals we build into them. A stove encourages patience, attention and care, while inviting people to gather around something living, luminous and shared. 

Sensory rituals and the natural world 

Charlotte Legge of Duxmore Botanics brings the conversation back to the Isle of Wight landscape, with its chalk downland, sea air, woodland and changing seasons shaping her approach to scent, memory and mindful living. 

As the owner of a Charnwood C-Five, Charlotte speaks about the fire as a central gathering point during the colder months, a place to pause, reconnect as a family and slow down. This fits naturally with Charnwood’s own island story, where thoughtful making, natural materials and respect for the landscape are at the heart of what we do. 

Modern wood burning in the real world 

The issue closes with stove installer Nye Meyers of Stoake, whose work takes him across London from Victorian homes to more unexpected spaces, including a White Cube exhibition featuring six Charnwood Skye 7 stoves. Nye’s interview brings a practical and important perspective, particularly around the misunderstanding that often surrounds modern wood burning when open fires and modern stoves are blurred together. He also reflects on the advances in stove technology, including models such as the Charnwood Skye E700, which make clean, efficient burning easier to live with. 

We hope you enjoy reading it, sharing it and returning to it. 

Read Fired Up 3 here: 

https://www.charnwood.com/wp-content/uploads/2026/04/Fired-Up-3-Zine-web.pdf 

 

Five Minutes with Michael Parrott

charnwoodstoves
05 May 2026

Michael Parrott, who teaches at Benedictine College, writes about the life of the home with a deep thoughtfulness. In conversation, he returns to the hearth not simply as a source of heat, but as something that once gave the room a centre and drew family life around it. His reflections move between childhood memory, modern convenience and cultural loss, but remain grounded in a simple conviction: that visible warmth does more than comfort us. It teaches us how to gather, to linger and to be present with one another.

In your article The Fire Went Out for Crisis Magazine, you describe the hearth as the heart of the home. What role did fire play in your household growing up?

We had a real fireplace growing up, and on cold nights it became the place we naturally gravitated towards. I still remember the crackle, the glow, the smell of woodsmoke, and the way the whole room seemed to change when the fire was lit. I would often lie on the floor by the fire as a boy and read or play.

We had central heating, so the fire was not strictly necessary. In a way, that is what made it so meaningful. It was not just doing a job. It was doing something central heating could never do. It made warmth visible. It gave the room a centre. It made us slow down, sit together and be present to one another.

As a child, I would not have had the language for any of that. I just knew there was something almost magical about a real fire, something alive, human and deeply consoling. Looking back, I think that instinct was right. The hearth did not simply heat the house. It ordered the house. It made home feel more like home.

Modern heating systems have made homes more comfortable, but they have also made warmth invisible. Do you think that has changed the way we relate to one another at home?

Yes, I do. Modern heating is efficient, but it is also strangely sterile. Warm air comes through vents, the thermostat clicks, and the whole thing happens anonymously. We get temperature without presence, comfort without ceremony, warmth without a visible source.

I think our domestic lives have started to resemble our heating systems. Everyone is comfortable, but everyone is also dispersed. We are under the same roof, yet often scattered into separate rooms, separate devices and separate little worlds. The old hearth drew people towards a common centre. It made warmth something shared. Modern systems make comfort ambient, private and almost forgettable.

The hearth did more than warm a room. It created a focal point for family life. It asked people to gather, to linger and to face the same light. So yes, I think invisible warmth has changed the way we relate to one another. We solved the problem of cold beautifully, but we may have lost some of the human meaning that once came with being warmed together.

Much of the debate around wood burning now focuses on emissions and efficiency. What do you think gets missed when the conversation becomes purely technical?

What gets missed is the human person in full. Once the conversation is reduced entirely to emissions, efficiency and quantified risk, only the things that can be measured get treated as real.

Of course prudence matters. Of course safety matters. I am not arguing for recklessness, and I am not pretending there are no trade offs. But there is something deeply impoverished about a worldview that meticulously counts measurable harms while dismissing formative goods as sentimental or irrelevant simply because they do not fit neatly into a spreadsheet.

A hearth teaches things. It teaches patience, because fire cannot be rushed. It teaches responsibility, because it must be tended. It teaches realism, because neglect has consequences. It teaches wonder, because flame still has the power to arrest us and draw us out of ourselves. And it teaches family life, because people gather around what is living, luminous and shared.

None of that shows up very well in a technical analysis, so modern people are tempted to act as though it does not exist. I was not trying to write a quaint defence of nostalgia. I was trying to push back against a technocratic habit of mind that assumes whatever cannot be measured must not matter very much. That is a disastrous way to think about human life.

You suggest that when the hearth disappeared, something cultural disappeared with it. What, to you, has been lost?

What was lost was not just a feature of home design or an older heating technology. What was lost was a whole domestic grammar, a whole little school of human formation built into the daily life of the household.

The hearth taught a family how to live together. Winter pressed people inward. Fire had to be fed. Ashes had to be cleared. Light mattered because darkness was real. Warmth mattered because it was not automatic. Children learned, before anyone ever gave them a lecture, that good things require attention, restraint, patience and care. That is not nothing. That is culture in its most ordinary and powerful form.

I think something religious was lost too, or at least made thinner. So many of our traditions were once anchored in a world where the home had a visible centre. Stockings by the fire, St Nicholas treats left at the hearth, the relief of warmth in the midst of winter, the significance of light in a dark season. These things were not arbitrary decorations. They made sense in a world where the body and the home were still being instructed by the season itself.

When the hearth disappeared, we did not merely remove smoke, risk or inconvenience. We also removed a quiet apprenticeship in gratitude, waiting, attentiveness and wonder. And then we wonder why home feels flatter, family feels thinner, and even Advent and Christmas sometimes feel strangely weightless.

For those who no longer have a fireplace or stove at home, are there ways the principles of the hearth, gathering, attention, patience and hospitality, can still be preserved?

Yes, absolutely, but now it has to be done intentionally. The deeper principle of the hearth was never just flame for its own sake. It was shared attention. It was a visible centre. It was the experience of being drawn together rather than drifting apart.

So even in a hearthless home, families can recover something of that old wisdom by creating real centres of presence: a dinner table where phones are absent and meals are not rushed, candles lit in the evening, regular reading aloud, family prayer at a fixed place and time, hospitality that welcomes others into the warmth of the home, even an outdoor fire pit when that is possible. In many homes, the table can become a kind of hearth if it is treated as more than a place to refuel and scatter.

I would also say we need to stop flattening the seasons. Let winter be winter a little bit. Go out into the cold. Come back into warmth. Let the darkness of Advent be felt so that the light of Christmas means something again. Slow the pace. Lower the lights. Bake bread. Create one room in the home where people naturally gather instead of disappearing into private, climate controlled corners.

In other words, build a centre, even if you do not have a chimney. The form may be different now, but the need has not changed. A home still needs some place, and some set of habits, where people are taught to linger, to attend, to receive one another and to be grateful. That, more than anything, is what I was trying to defend in the article: not merely a fireplace, but a way of life.

A season of small beginnings By Dammy Ponnuthurai

charnwoodstoves
01 May 2026

“To everything there is a season, and a time to every purpose under heaven.” — Ecclesiastes 3

For some of us, particularly those who struggle with a lack of light, the arrival of May feels like a moment of return. A quiet re-entry into the world. Blossom appears on branches that only recently felt held in winter, and trees are slowly, then suddenly, given back their leaves. There is something in that shift that feels almost physical. A lifting of weight, rather than simply a change of scene.

Before Julius Caesar formalised the calendar, the Romans marked the beginning of the year in spring. It is not difficult to see why. This is the season that draws us outward again, towards picnics, longer days, and the small celebrations that invite us to stay outside a little longer.

April, in particular, resists definition. A run of bright, warm days can feel like early summer, only to turn without warning. The air cools, the clouds gather, and we are pulled back into something closer to autumn. There is a kind of yo-yoing to it. An uncertainty that sits alongside optimism.

It is tempting to feel gloomy about the inconsistency of April’s weather, but perhaps it offers something else. Not a flaw in the season, but a kind of metaphor. April is not quite predictable, and perhaps that is part of its gift. It keeps us noticing, keeps us slightly on our toes, and asks us to remain open-minded, to let go of the urge to hurry towards certainty.

We tend to organise our lives in clearer terms than this. Work and rest. Activity and pause. Weekday and weekend. The weekend, in particular, has become a container for recovery, a time set aside for a version of happiness that sits apart from responsibility. But in practice it rarely holds. We carry the week with us. Thoughts linger. Moods do not adhere to the calendar.

There is a quiet tension in this structure. An expectation of rest, and the reality of being unable to fully enter it. So the question becomes not how to separate these states, but how to remain steady within them, and remember to keep looking.

For me, there is something in the act of lighting a fire at the end of an uncertain spring day. After hours of warmth and wind, brightness and chill, the ritual offers a return to a familiar friend. The warmth gathers gradually, then lingers. Even when expected, there is something quietly surprising in the way it fills a room, almost like a cloak. It alters the atmosphere before one has quite registered the change.

The fire itself is responsive. It shifts with what it is given, never quite the same from one moment to the next. There is a dance to it, but an undirected one, a quiet movement that keeps drawing the eye back.

Perhaps this is where the season and the fire meet. Both resist control. Both move according to their own rhythm. And both ask us, in different ways, to pay attention rather than impose order.

To sit with a fire is to return to noticing. To watch without needing to resolve anything. In a culture that leans heavily on certainty and outcome, this can feel unfamiliar, but it is not without purpose. There is a kind of intelligence in observation, in allowing things to be as they are, even briefly.

The creative part of us, if it is to remain active, depends on this. Not on fixed conditions, but on a willingness to stay open and remain receptive to what is not yet formed. April, with all its movement, offers a kind of practice in this.

So while we look ahead to longer days and more certain warmth, there may be something to hold onto in this in-between time. Not as a waiting period, but as a time with its own purpose. A space in which to recalibrate, to observe, and to adjust.

Like watching a flame, it asks very little. Only that we stay with it long enough to see.

Five Minutes with Rachel Ashwell

charnwoodstoves
23 Apr 2026

Rachel Ashwell’s work has long been shaped by an instinct for restoration and the quiet beauty of things that have been lived with. From childhood days spent trailing her parents through London flea markets to the creation of Shabby Chic, her work has never been simply decorative, but rooted in a way of seeing. Objects are chosen not for perfection but for the feeling they carry, and arranged with a careful balance of comfort, function and restraint. Returning to England after many years in Los Angeles, she has found herself drawn again to the rhythm of the seasons, and to a more grounded sense of home.

A childhood shaped by restored books and antique dolls sounds almost like the beginning of a fairy tale. What has that world of repair, memory and preservation carried into the way you live now?

It was meandering walks, trailing behind my parents when I was around eight years old, through flea markets across London, Camden Passage and Brick Lane, where I learned how to navigate, negotiate, and recognise the value and beauty of timeworn things. With envelopes of cash, my father would search for first edition books, and my mother for worn antique dolls, along with the small details that would bring them back to life, velvet ribbons, pieces of lace and silk.

Without realising it at the time, this was the beginning of my understanding of the beauty of imperfection. Her process of restoration was to embrace the tattered and the torn. She would sew dresses by hand so that the finished piece felt authentic, rather than overly polished.

That remains at the core of my work with Shabby Chic, restoring both beauty and function while honouring the original qualities of a piece, its chips, cracks and frayed edges.

Shabby Chic is often reduced to a decorative shorthand, yet in your work it has always felt closer to a way of seeing and living. What do you think people most misunderstand about it, and what might its quieter lessons offer the home today?

My mantra has always been beauty, comfort and function. My northern star of design has been my heart. When I place furniture and furnishings, I am mindful that each piece has a purpose and contributes to the feeling of home.

Everything needs room to breathe, however big or small the space. There is no shortage of beautiful treasures, but without restraint a room quickly becomes cluttered and noisy. It is in leaving space that what you have chosen can be seen.

You write movingly about returning to England and becoming newly conscious of the seasons. How has that sharpened your sense of domestic space, and in particular your sense of the stove as both a practical and a focal point of home life?

After living in Los Angeles for thirty five years, my creative inner wiring longed for the rhythm of the seasons. A time to go inward, a time to blossom and bloom, and the quieter moments in between.

In Los Angeles, even with a large fireplace, there are few days that call for building a fire. Here, I have come to value the ritual of it. Placing the kindling, the logs and the firelighters, then allowing the fire to take hold, bringing warmth and a quiet focus to the room.

In Meadow Manor: My Majestic English Countryside Home, the house seems inseparable from the landscape around it. How does this English home speak to, or depart from, the life you made for yourself in Los Angeles?

I have always been drawn to views, to wide open spaces and a sense of peaceful living. In Los Angeles I lived mostly near the ocean, which created a feeling of infinity where the sky and the water meet. My time in Texas was another defining moment, where the landscape was shaped by heat and light.

Here in the English countryside, I searched for a home that would offer views of rolling green hills, cows and sheep in the fields, and a scattering of rooftops from neighbouring cottages. The view now feels almost like something from a storybook.

Has any work of art ever come close to capturing for you the true feeling of home?

Art certainly inspires and, at times, reflects life. I have often been drawn more to florals and landscapes than to interiors. The presence of art brings an important layer to a home, adding depth and a sense of completion. A traditional stove like the Cranmore 3 suits the shabby-chic interiors Rachel is known for, blending into rather than fighting the room.

Follow Rachel on Instagram @rachelashwell and @officialshabbychic – Meadow Manor: My Majestic English Countryside Home by Rachel Ashwell is published by CICO Books’

You can watch our interview with Rachel on YouTube below.

Five minutes with Nye Meyers

charnwoodstoves
17 Apr 2026

Nye installs wood burning stoves across London through his work with Stoake, moving between Victorian terraced houses, community spaces and, at times, more unexpected settings such as galleries. His relationship with fire goes back further. After moving to Australia as a child, he grew up in a culture where fire was part of everyday life, through barbecues, gathering and outdoor cooking, but also something that demanded care. That early awareness carries through into his work today. He speaks not only about the practicalities of installation, but about the enduring place of fire in the home, the appeal of wood burning stoves as a carbon neutral heat source, and the advances in stove technology that have made them strikingly simple to use.

Do you have any childhood memories of being around a stove or fire?

I always loved fire growing up. My parents came over from India in the 1970s, and we did not have a fire in the house. But when I was a little older, we moved to Australia, where barbecues were a big part of life, so there was always a fire going, with people gathered around it and all that came with it. In Australia there is also a strong awareness of fire in another sense, and of the need to treat it with care.

After school, I started work as a gas fitter and, through working with other renewable technologies, found my way to boiler stoves and then wood burners.

Day to day, what do you find most interesting about the different places and projects you install stoves for? 

One of the great things about working in London is meeting so many environmentally conscious people, particularly because everyone lives so closely together. People want to use the right stoves and make sure they are properly maintained. The work takes us into all sorts of homes and buildings, most often Victorian terraced houses, and every project has its own character. You might be working in a family sitting room one day, then in a completely different kind of space, such as a community farm, the next.

Your work has also taken you into unexpected places, including installing stoves for exhibitions at White Cube. What was it like bringing the element of fire into a contemporary gallery setting?

We installed six stoves for the artist Danh Vo at White Cube in Bermondsey. They were six Skye 7s, all connected to a single terminal and flued together, which is not something you would normally do in a domestic setting. Because it was a temporary exhibition in an industrial space, Building Regulations did not apply in the same way they usually would. Seeing all six running together in a white gallery space was quite something. It was a very different context for a stove, and a fascinating project to be part of.

Sitting beside a fire is such an ancient human act. Why do you think there is so much misunderstanding today about the ecological role of the modern wood burning stove?

It is such an ancient human act. A fire makes a house feel alive as well as warm, and those of us who work with stoves do not much like being in a house in winter without one. A lot of the misunderstanding comes from the way the issue has been represented in the media. There has been a tendency to blur the distinction between an open fire and a modern stove, and to simplify emissions reporting in a way that has confused people.

A modern stove, used properly, has very low emissions compared with many other sources of emissions. In reality, the picture is more nuanced. We began installing wood burning stoves because they are a carbon neutral heat source, and we have been particularly grateful for advances in technology, especially in stoves such as

the Charnwood Skye 700. Customers are genuinely interested not only in how well these stoves burn, but in how easy they are to live with. With a stove like the Skye 700, you still engage with the fire, but in a very simple way. You light it, close the door and let the stove do its job.