Nothing But Love :: golf blogger

Out in the Country

The slight wind shifted. It did. It was coming directly out of the north. It was. I swear. Then after the fire got going in the brush pile, the breeze came out of the east northeast. After DT left to go check on the progress of the AKC SPO National Championship Beagle Field Trials, parts of which were being conducted on his property, and I was alone. And the wind shifted. I'm not lying.

Just me ... and the fire ... and the huge, fucking tree that was now on fire. Flames were shooting about 20 feet up the trunk of the tree. The tree was smoking about 30 feet up. Nobody ever said anything to me about what to do when you catch a tree on fire. Do I call the fire department or the forest service out here in the country?

I stood there. And watched. Like every good pyromaniac does. A couple mice took a dive to the ground and ran off, coughing little mouse coughs. I didn't know I was supposed to have one of those round things with a bull's-eye that firemen hold when people jump. Of course, for mice, the thingy is smaller. Then DT rode up over the crest of the hill next to the barn on his 4-wheeled ATV. I pointed to the burning tree.

"Thank God we ain't fixin' the roof this weekend," he said.