Saturday, February 19, 2011


This time of year, with the weather getting warmer and the wind just right, my husband always gets the itch to burn.

No, not that kind of itch and burn.

The itch to burn dead undergrowth in the acres of trees. Or the pasture. Or the yard around our house.

Yes, that last one ALWAYS makes me nervous.

One year, after we had moved back to Florida, he decided to burn the undergrowth in the pines around where we were living. Then he had a meeting to get to and left the girls in charge of watching it so it didn't get too close to the house. A little tidbit of information I did not know until later that afternoon.

To the girls credit, they did watch it. They watched it cross the line it wasn't supposed to, but all is well that ends well and that's all I'll say about that.

So this past weekend, I went to visit my Grandmother who has been ill. I was gone for about an hour. Then I headed home and as I'm topping the little ridge before our house, I see smoke. Hmm, I didn't remember anything smoking before I left. And as I got closer I realized the yard was on fire.

The yard. Around our house.

And there was my dear husband with a huge grin on his face and water hose in hand.

When I parked and got out of the van, I didn't even have to say, "What in the world are you doing!" He just smiled and said, "I've got it under control."

What's a wife to say except, "I know you do."

And then pray....

He always tells me that it makes the grass come back greener. Today it hit me why - anything would look greener when it's surrounded by charred earth.

Then I prayed again...

1 comment:

rbyoder said...

It must run in their blood. I came home Wednesday to a burning yard and a grinning husband.