on going country, part 1

E v e r y t h i n g s l o w s d o w n.
I'm beginning to really enjoy the pace of things. Beginning to enjoy the SPACE of things.


A few weeks back, on a slow Saturday, as Brett and I had our usual conversation, "what sort of project should we take on today?" we decided to try to burn the brush pile. We had tried once before - actually, it was to be the crazy-thing-the-brothers-do-for-their-christmas-activity. That was after we made everyone, including my mother-in-law, ride the zip line. Over the pond. In not so warm weather. BUT, the pile would not burn at our Christmas celebration. Just the wrapping paper and the boxes and the gasoline.


On that note, we are certainly learning many things about living in the country by trial and error. For instance, sometimes gasoline can kind of explode when it ignites. Thank you Jesus, no one was hurt. Another instance, oppossums don't necessary die when you shoot them twice point blank after you have caught them in a borrowed live trap on your front step. (They do, however, die quickly if your husband chases them down and beats them. I hated this, but felt somewhat better about this than the first method that didn't work). I'm sorry. I know we live in the country. I know that Mick Ratliff, our neighbor who thinks we have a severe copperhead problem and provided all sorts of drama to me because of our small children, thinks I should get a gun and learn to shoot snakes.

But, we're not very good with guns. We seem to be better at chasing things down or chasing them away. I don't like guns. I DO like to run.

About that, I'm fully convinced I ran off a bobcat a few weeks back - thinking it was a middle sized fluffy dog with a short fluffy tail that was really fast, but that was trying to eat Jacks, our cat, and was moving his kennel bed all over the porch. When it turned around, under a light, I was shocked to see that this medium sized dog had the face of a large cat. I stared after it as it bounded through some tall grass and when it turned to look at me again I thought to myself, "that is not a dog. that is a very large cat. I am certain of it." Granted, it was night time, but let's be honest, we pay the city 27 dollars a month for 3 bright lights on tall telephone poles. It's not exactly pitch black out here.

Can I self-elect myself as the queen of rabbit trailing?

Back to the error of our trials. It seems important that I record our biggest country dumbness to date. On the particular Saturday we tried to burn the brush pile, we instead burned nearly 2 acres of forest ground. When we realized things were perhaps on the edge of getting out of control, Brett quickly raked a 2 foot swath of dirt around it. I was chatting on the phone with my friend Taryn when I came back to real time from her story to see that a cedar tree had caught on fire, and right after that, the grass. The wind was such that it was moving quickly in the direction of the house. Not very close, I am thankful, as I was right by it when it happened, but I was shocked to see how quickly grass can spread a fire. I kept thinking to myself, "at what point do you ask for help?"

That night, we prayed with lots of faith that we would not catch fire as we slept. There were three places that were still smoldering when we went to sleep, and consequently, still smoldering in the morning.

I am thankful that our sweet Lord protected us in our ignorance. Although, I think Brett actually handled the situation pretty well. The ignorance may have just been mine.

I am still surprised that the brush pile will not burn. It is probably the size of our first home and has parts of probably 20 trees we've cut down. Well . . . . that Brett has cut down. I watch from the window and make sure our children don't get smashed.

There will be more bloopers soon, I'm sure, as we ready ourselves for garden planting and stone wall building and animal proofing our plants. Some of them might not be funny to me until years from now, but I'll write them as if they were funny so you can laugh at me if you want. :)