Fire

Earlier this week, Angel and I braved the cold and had a little bonfire in our backyard while we spontaneously went sledding down the hills. I think it was the first time I've actually stayed outside for more than 5 minutes in weeks, and it was a blast.

My face also got kind of frozen during our sledding adventure, so warming up by the fire after a ride down the hill was very important. I watched the flames as the sun sank and the sky became completely dark, and I reflected on how much fire has always been a part of my life.

From the moment perhaps 15 years ago when my Mom assigned me to help her carry pieces of our broken dining room table and the 12 chairs that went with it out to the burn pile, I've known fire as a useful tool, a dangerous weapon, and an integral part of nearly any celebration.

(My Mom was hoping to get rid of all traces of our dining room table before Dad got home from work so that he couldn't fix it again. It worked.)

When my dad and uncles found reason to chop up a tree, or when a storm took heavy branches to the ground, they were always saved up in large brush piles to be lit at the next social gathering.

 This was at my college graduation party.

In high school, my siblings and I ceremoniously burned old tests and notebooks full of notes as the official end to every school year. And then we roasted hot dogs over the ashes.

Squatting barefoot on the shore of the Indian Ocean, gleefully cooking hot dogs over sticks and burned-up schoolbooks. Have I ever mentioned how much I loved my childhood?

Angel and I have found that a having a little bonfire in the backyard is a nice alternative to investing in a paper shredder for documents that you don't want to see the light of day again. We have a couple of hobo pie makers, too, so we can accomplish two chores at once by cooking pizza sandwiches for dinner at the same time as getting rid of paperwork.

 This was the time we burned all of my school papers after my Junior year of college. There is a hilarious video accompanying it recording the fact that I can't light a match successfully.

Last December, fire (and the fire department) came in handy when it was time to burn the remnants of a century-old barn that once stood on my parent's property. Now that was a blaze.

 

 

Believe it or not, Angel is the more careful one out of the two of us when it comes to fire. This may possibly be related to his career as a nurse working with burns. So don't worry about my enjoyment of a bonfire every once in a while. Angel's always around to keep a hose nearby and make sure that we burn things safely. Fire is one of those things that you can enjoy only from a safe distance. But man, does it come in handy when you have an ugly couch to get rid of. 

# of couches my family burned in my growing up years: approx. 4