Make Fire Starters with Lint and Toilet Paper Rolls

Okay, I saw this easy project somewhere online (Pinterest probably; everything's on Pinterest) and have been meaning to write a blog entry, so here goes.

It's so easy and when you're done, you'll have handy fire starters for the fireplace in the fall or the campfire this summer!

Here are the steps:

1.  Save your lint and your toilet paper rolls.

2.  Take some lint and stuff it inside a toilet paper roll. Paper towel rolls would also work if you like to start big fires!

3.  Store them somewhere dry until ready to use. 

If you want to jazz this little project up a bit, let the kids draw on the toilet paper rolls with crayon to decorate them. They can also help stuff the tubes with lint since they have those handy little-sized hands.

I don't have a fireplace and don't go camping but I have friends with a fireplace. I think I'll save my lint and toilet paper rolls and make up several of these for them. I think three of them stacked in a pyramid tied with string would be a fun little gift to give. I have no idea if they'll like receiving them but I think so!

In case using lint as a fire starter sounds familiar, you're right. I blogged about it way back when, but the toilet paper roll to encase it is new!

Lint in Literature -- The Best American Nonrequired Reading 2003

This "lint in literature" entry comes to you from The Best American Nonrequired Reading 2003, edited by Dave Eggers, with an introduction by Zadie Smith.

This is a compilation I've had lying around for several years. I've moved it from one bookshelf to another, but when I finished a book over the weekend and didn't have another on deck, I grabbed it and am loving the short entries. All of the stories appeared in magazines and periodicals in 2002, so they range from very short (2 pages) to usually less than 20 pages.

Imagine my delight when last night I was reading The Littlest Hitler by Ryan Boudinot and I stumbled on a line about lint. Not just once, but twice!

Mr. Boudinot was writing about a fourth grader who dressed as Hitler for Halloween, even wearing the costume to school. He was heckled nastily, mostly by the girl who dressed as Anne Frank, and was pretty much tarred and feathered during class and at recess, so he had to make a change (literally) before the afternoon parade. His teacher let him borrow her gray wig.

"By the time our parade made it to the middle school I was thoroughly demoralized. I had grown so weary of being asked 'What are you?' that I had taken to wearing the wig over my face and angrily answering 'I'm lint! I'm lint!'"

This book is full of wonderful writing that you just don't come across unless you read these periodicals in 2002:  Time, Mississippi Review, Atlantic Monthly, Little Engines, Shout, Esquire, and Columbia Review (plus a bunch of others). I, for one, didn't.

Lint in Literature: This Charming Man

Marian Keyes, the author of This Charming Man, writes well, writes funny, and writes provocatively. I've only read one of her other novels (The Brightest Star in the Sky). It too was funny and wise, but This Charming Man goes way beyond that. It addresses some tough truths. I'd recommend it in a minute.

But where's the lint, you ask. Here 'tis:

"He walked away, then stopped and turned back. "Hold on a minute." He approached like he had spotted something about me--lint on my collar, perhaps, or ball of fluff in my eyebrow--and wanted to help remove it."

Oh, what the heck.  I'll tell you. This book is about four women who all, at some point in their lives, know a powerful Irish politician. And they all know how dangerous his charm he can be.

Lint in Literature: The Brambles

Last night while reading, I found lint mentioned in the book The Brambles by Eliza Minot. Edie, one of Arthur's daughters, is flying him to his other daughter Margaret's house, from California to New York:

"Only then does she remember the bottle of Valium or whatever it is that his nurse, Alice, gave her. She digs into her silver carry-on bag:  the grit of frayed cigarettes mingling with lint; a piece of naked cinnamon chewing gum, conglomerate with grit and hair; the mellow scent of shredded tobacco."

Lint in Literature: The Hazards of Good Breeding

I've been reading the novel The Hazards of Good Breeding by Jessica Shattuck. It's not really holding my interest but I'm plod through it since I'm more than one-third of the way in. But I sat up when I came across this nugget last night while reading:

"Caroline rolls her head in Rock's direction and looks up at his face, which from this angle, looks once again less familiar--a little weary, older, and sharper. She can see the stubble along his jawline. 'No, you won't,' she says, brushing a piece of lint off his tuxedo jacket. 'You'll be cool.'"

Lint in Literature: The Last Secret

I can't believe it's been such a long time since I posted about lint. A month. Dang. Life is so busy but we must remember:  There's always time for lint.

I finished reading Mary McGarry Morris's novel The Last Secret last night. It was a good book, but sort of dark. If you've read any of her books, you'll know what I mean:



Anyway, the other day, I read this passage (about Nora, who is feeling down and out, lousy, taken advantage of), and I grabbed a piece of paper to mark the page so I could add it here:

Pathetic, this groveling, this being a woman, mother, wife, trying to hold everything together, she thinks with a tug on the sleeve, this fury of pulling, ripping, tearing to pieces. Rags. And he won't even notice. A storm of little consequence, lint and bits of thread drifting onto the counter. He won't even notice. Only she will. The keeper of rags.

I love her writing but like I said, it's dark. And linty. Do you have a favorite author? Do they ever write about lint?

Lint in Literature: City of Thieves

I'm reading City of Thieves by David Benioff (very good!) and last night read this passage:

Abruptly he released me, shoving his hands into my coat pockets, pulling out scraps of paper, a bit of string and lint, nothing close to money. Koyla sighed and turned to the vendor.

Do you ever watch for certain words in books you read? If so, what are they? Do you find them very often?