flame! we need more flame!

Around here we tease Isabel the cat nightly - when the fire dies down in the fireplace, we imagine her calling out in her foreign kittycat accent to us 
as she reclines luxuriously on the ottoman in front of it - 

"flame! we need more flame!"

but sometimes around here we need a different sort of flame...

especially when we get a "bad" bale of hay...

it must be punished by eternal flame damnation!! 
because its FULL of BURRS!!!
Invasive ones even!

so we wait until it snows on the hayfield...

and try not to alert it so it doesnt bolt or get scared off...

quietly mr. foresterman gets the equipment out...

and approaches it in a friendly manner.

real friendly manner.

 in reality he does that with everyone.
but he doesnt alway carry pitchforks and rakes.

This is a real small village after all.. 


ok fine. its not a village at all but this is my thought pattern and welcome to it.


First he gives it a good back scratch... to remove snow.

because snow doesnt burn.
I found out the hard way.
But he knows these things.

and at the right moment, he carefully breaks the twine to loosen it up even more

a totally relaxed haybale burns to its fullest potential, you know.



He then reveals the true nature of a bad haybale



This is where flame gets involved!!!!

(exclamation points full strength!!!)


mr. foresterman carries wooden matches where ever he goes in a tiny waterproof case.

I once tried to get him to my side by extolling the virtues of carrying a lighter, 
but then i once almost started my jeans on fire looking for a piece of gum...

he likes his carrying case and wooden matches better.

Anyhow, here comes the weird part...

he does this all the time. 

Im not sure if its for show, or if its really to start a match when you dont have a rock to strike it against.

But it works- 
for both me and the match.


Moving on,

When the haybale is looking the other way, he carefully inserts the match ~

we have FLAME!

heres where the rake really comes in handy...

Braving the smoke, 
he proceeds to rake it over the coals, literally..

 Dexterdog is impressed by his incineration skills too...

 He man-fully and adept-fully  handles the flames...


 Whats that Dexterdog?

Fire dad? 

Dad fire?

 HES ON FIRE????!!!!



ignoring my screams, he continues to rake.

he knows that sometimes i get excited.

I then realized it was just the flames playing tricksy on us through angles and the camera lense.

yes, I didnt drop my camera.

If they would have not tied my arms down with IV's to the operating table last October,
I would have those pictures to show you too.
last thing I remember saying before they put me out was -
"gee, this is kinda uncomfortable..."


 this haybale is really on fire now.

Its definitely full of hot air!

mr. foresterman says he's used to that..



like my temper sometimes,

it slowly burns down to just seething...

But wise mr. foresterman knows its not done yet...
so with a little  fluffing here and there he provokes it to make sure it is finished...

truly finished.

rakes and pitchforks are handy that way.

smart man.

And like one of my favorite sayings...

"the evening's coals are the morning's ashes"

that can mean a whole plethora of things, 
but it reminds me that what seems so hot and almost uncontrollable now, 
can be cool and confident later...

good motto to live by, isnt it Dexterdog?

and so,

its time to go back in as the sun sets and the wind dies down...


Thank you friends for sharing these flamin' moments with me!!!



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