Fire is just about the scariest thing I can think of. We always seem to have neighbors who think burning stuff is a good way to get rid of it (manure, leaves, love letters, tax returns, fallen trees). And Paul secretly would rather set fire to something than eat when he's hungry. Pyro Paul. We've only had to call the fire department once, and that was for a fire he didn't set on purpose. The lawnmower caught fire. Whoosh and everything was burning.
Right now we've got a drought and some good-old-boys at a hunting club decided to burn off some underbrush around their duck pond. Seven hundred acres has burned and the fire's not out yet. This is nothing compared to the fires in California, but you won't hear about it unless I tell you. And for some reason, I think you are just dying to know.
Fire is also fascinating. I imagine that if any of Sherman's troops were like my neighbors, and let's face it, they were, it was probably a little bit thrilling to set fire to Columbia and Atlanta. And what were the people who lived here supposed to do about it? Fight it with bukkits they stole from the LOLrus?
what to do when your Yankee burns your home!
Posted by: lori | December 06, 2007 at 04:02 PM