I've always been a sucker for a fire. Our house in North Carolina had a big old fire place and I still fondly remember our first thanksgiving in that house - all my family came down and joined us for the feast and we built a huge fire and kept it going all the evening. The house had no insulation and it was a cold thanksgiving - the fire gave some much needed warmth. My friend, Karl Bachman, joined us and regaled us with his fabulous "Rindercella" routine. We laughed, feasted, played games, and drank all evening before the fire - constantly feeding it. I think we all treasure memories of that occasion.
But for the last 16 years, alas, we've been sans fireplace. That is, until my birthday of this year. Cindi bought me one of those fire pots for outside and we have really enjoyed it this fall. We're planning on a fire tonight too. Dave and Jo are coming over for cards, David is at work and Bekah has a band engagement that will detain her until about 8. We figure that we'll enjoy the fire until she shows up. We had high winds earlier in the week and the old trees in our yard kindly donated toward our stockpile of kindling.
To me, staring into the flames and listening to the crackle of the wood and the soft chink sound as the coals drop, well, it's a peaceful as staring at the beautiful sea in Cancun and listening to the surf. A different kind of peaceful, but every bit as wonderful.
"I sit beside the fire and think
Of all that I have seen..."
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