Cultivating My Inner Redneck

Living in a green state has its advantages. For example: burning. I've never lived in a place where it was acceptable to burn yard waste. So when a neighbor suggested—after I complained at length about what in the world was I supposed to do with the piles of branches, leaves, and logs* that I had amassed from trimming things around the yard—that I just trot on down to the fire station and get myself a burn permit, I was shocked.

"Really? You can do that?"
"Yup. We're outside the city limits here."
"Really?"
"Yeah."

I walked away in a daze that quickly turned into a fervor of excitement. I could BURN stuff—in my own yard—and no one would call the cops? Wow.

So I duly trotted myself down to the fire station.

"I'd like to get a burn permit, please."
"Okay. Hold on, let me get the paper...here it is." She watches as I fill in the address.
"Where is that? I'm not familiar with the street name."
"Oh, it's just around the corner from here."
"Just around the corner?" She's frowning. Uh-oh. "Here, can you point it out on the map, please?" And she plunks down a map of the city. I find our house and point at it.
"Oh, I'm sorry. You're not actually within city limits, but you're still too close to areas of Residential Development for us to allow you to burn." (Yes, she did pronounce the capital letters, just like that.)
I tried not to let it, but I'm pretty sure my face fell about 1,000 ft. Before the altitude drop caused undue precipitation, she continued: "Yeah, the only thing you're allowed to do where you are is recreational burning."
"Excuse me? What?"
"An outdoor fire confined to a small space for recreational purposes only."
"Okay, then."

So Jakey and I went home, sans burn permit, and had ourselves a recreational bonfire. Right on the lawn, all through the month of March, whenever it wasn't raining. (I kept a cooler of hot dogs on ice nearby just in case someone checked up on us.**)


What I learned from this experience:

• Dried and dead juniper sure goes up quick—and HOT.
• If you don't have an axe to chop up the extremely long branches and logs—no worries! Just throw 'em on the fire and when they burn through the middle, just pick 'em up by the cool end and move 'em back into the middle.
• It IS possible to eat Otter Pops in cold weather. Just sit down by a really hot fire, and you'll crave them, I promise.
  

Things I already knew, but that this experience reaffirmed for me:

• I like burning things.
• A very hot fire makes a chilly and misty 40-degree-day quite pleasant.
• Grass does not like being burned. Neither do insects, spiders, or the eyelashes on my left eye. (Oops.)
  

Jake's favorite part was getting to play fireman with the hose after I had doused the fire.


Jeff's reaction to the whole thing:

• Suspiciously: "You smell like camping. What have you been doing?"
• "You did what?"
• "Right on the lawn?"
• "Why?"
• "What are we going to do with a black charred ring on the grass?"
• "You're a redneck. You know that, right?"

The end result is that the piles and piles of dead stuff around the yard are gone, I had a lot of fun getting rid of it, and now I have some ash to throw into the compost pile. I had to transplant some grass, but hey—no biggie***!

*I know I've complained about the rental we're living in numerous times, but mostly it's been about the inside. The outside, however, has been equally neglected. I swear no one trimmed that juniper bush for 30 years. The piles of dead branches I got out of that thing alone was as tall as I am.
**No, not really. It wasn't really necessary. Anyone who came by would see how much fun I was having and would be forced to assume this was a purely recreational activity, not yardwork.
***No, the really BIG deal was this threat I received in my comments about this time (because I was too busy doing this sort of thing to blog in the month of March). Here:

If you do not blog soon I will be forced to take my summer road trip to your home and I will CAMP on your front lawn for a week. Can you imagine? Me, Abby, S and the dog all over the grass like a bunch of deranged lawn gnomes...filthy from not bathing. Don't get me started on the smoke from the cooking fire. And, as soon as your back is turned, we will abduct your adorable child and turn him native. You know what 5 natives means, right? It is critical mass for a Lord of the Flies scenario. You have the power to stop this, Wynne. IT'S ALL IN YOUR HANDS!!!

Megan, I was really, really hoping that you would come by. I wanted to surprise you with the fact that I already had the campfire started for you. So I continued not to blog. But...sniff...you never came.