...A Burnin' Ring of Fire! Ok, well, maybe not a ring...and maybe I didn't fall, but I drove right into a burnin' bunch of acreage. Big Man and I thought the new farm was looking shabby, so he went out and did some burning of the pasture. I say burnin', but it's really called burning. Don't you think burnin' sounds way cooler...or masculine? I do. Back to burnin' the pasture. Burning is done to rid the ground of old matted down "crud"...like grass and weeds. Anyhow, the pasture had a lot of "crud".
Lillie and Claira joined in on the burnin' festivities. They are farm girls, you know. What?! You don't think farm girls drink Mocha Frappe's? Of course they do! You don't think farm girls pose like princesses when they catch their Mama with her camera? The do! Here. See? She really IS a farm girl. *proud Mama smiles*
We had some help managing the fire. Papa Kevin and Papa Kenny brought their man muscles...and boy did they have to use them! Burnin' involves beating out the fire when it spreads too far from the desired path. It also involves jumping on and off your tractor for, well, I'm not real sure why they needed the tractor. I do know, that I'm glad we had a couple handy...when our "mishap" occurred, the tractor was the saving grace for the big gooseneck trailer!
Oh yeah, that big dog was up in flames! There I was, talking on the phone, sipping my Mocha Frappe (the one the girls swiped from me after our mishap), and snapping pictures. You know women...we are multi tasking fools. Next thing I knew, Papa Kenny was jumping up and down trying to get the attention of my groom and his pops. I screamed from across the field, "Robert, your trailer's on fire!" My dad, who I was on the phone with just said, "Call me back!" and hung up. Big Man hauled tractor balls over to rescue his trailer. I was wondering how in the world he would hook the trailer up to the truck and get it out of the 5 foot flames before there was just a frame left. Before I knew it, Robert had the neck of the trailer nestled in the bucket of the tractor slamming it backwards out of the flames. I fell in love with him all over again. They call him the fireman...that's his name. Gosh, I love that song. I love firemen.
Crisis averted, the men decided all equipment should make it's way to the other end of the property. Gee, ya think?!? I would have recommended that if I had been there at the fire's first spark. I wasn't. I was gettin' my Mocha Frappe. Mmmmm. I'm salivating for one. Right. Now.
Poor Papa Kenny was headin' up the front line of the fire line. Armed with a shovel, he was mighty. There came a point in time when the fire was trying to get the best of him, crossing over the fence line into the highway. He fought a hard fight. He beat that fire like it was a red headed step child. Big Man came in though with his old blue tractor, and with one swipe of the bucket, he showed that fire who was boss. Look at his expression on the tractor..."What the heck is he doing with that shovel? Let me be the Big Man I am and show him what a big boy toy can do." Ha ha! Kenny would have taken the big boy toy over the shovel...any day.
I'm not sure how I feel about this image. I think it's a cool shot, but it's a bit scary. I want to scream out, "Hey! I carried that precious cargo in my womb for 9 months...pushed her out, and nursed her on my bosom for 10 months...you be careful with that precious cargo!" I knew she would be ok though...he'd go to hell and back for his girls.
By lunch time, the place was looking like a scarred battlefield. A sad, defeated piece of God's Earth. I'm sure most folk who drove by wondered why anyone would do such a thing to a beautiful place, but when I shot this last picture as I pulled away, I saw hope in what was to come for this amazing place my man was going to make our homestead.
Here, in this place, all of our family dreams will come true.
