Tuesday, April 3, 2012


I got up this morning, and as is my custom, checked the weather. The forecast said no wind and a 30% chance of rain. A perfect day to burn cedar piles. So at 4:30 this morning away I went, armed with diesel, newspaper, and a cigarette lighter.
 Burning conditions haven't been favorable and the dozers have been busy, so I had kind of gotten behind. The piles are dry and it didn't take much diesel to get them lit, so it was pretty much just light the paper and move to the next one. In my joy and haste to get caught up with the dozers, I really hadn't been looking behind myself, but when I did, it looked like the gates of hell. I had probably 25 piles on fire, and it was bright!
 The first phone call came about 6:15. It was my lovely bride wanting to know what I thought I was doing, and what should she tell the fire department, who were currently standing in our front yard. I tried to explain that I had things under control, and how the fire department could find me if they really wanted to, but explaining things like this to a non-morning person standing in the front yard in her bath robe talking to two fire trucks full of firemen is not easy. Needless to say, I was glad I was a long ways off, across some very rough country.
 The firemen did eventually find me, and said that my beautiful bride gave pretty good directions on how to find the "crazy sob". We had a nice talk, and it was agreed upon that I would call the sheriffs department and tell them it was me. The sheriffs department was very understanding about me forgetting to call in my controlled burn after I explained to them that nobody should even be up at this ungodly hour, and that I really thought it would be burned up before anybody noticed. I told them I would call from now on.
 The next, of many calls, came from eight miles up the road, letting me know there was one hell of a fire down in my part of the country somewhere.

I think I will go ride my horse tomorrow.