Sometimes I feel like a bigamist, because I am married to two different men. My Houston husband spends all of his time putting out fires at work, starts his days off already feeling exhausted, spends evenings working on the phone and on the computer, then has trouble turning off his brain enough to sleep at night. Now, my Wimberley husband? He's not like that at all!
After spending most of the day helping me to clean house on Sunday, John wandered outside to putter around. Later, when I went out to see what he was doing, I found he had built a little fire in our new fire pit, and was just sitting there, puffing on a cigar, with a positively beatific expression on his face. When he saw me he grinned and held out his arm for me to come snuggle beside him, then said "I just love this fire pit!" We sat there for a while, in comfortable silence, with John occasionally hopping up to prod the logs. Each time he sat back down, he would say something like "This is so great! Don't you think this is great?" Yeah, I have to admit. It's pretty damn wonderful.
There's just something about a campfire that's almost mesmerizing. It brings back great memories of my Girl Scout days, and of our family vacations in Colorado. Several times during our stay in Creede each year, the men would all pool the trout they had caught, and we would have a big fish fry down by the river, that lasted late into the night. Having been raised in a big city, I had never seen so many stars, and it felt as if they were so close, you could almost reach out and touch them. Needless to say, it tickled me to death when my kids echoed those exact same sentiments, the first time we sat stargazing on our porch here. John finally agreed to come inside when I promised him that we could roast wieners for dinner one night after our guests arrive.
The next day I headed in to the laundromat to wash bed linens, then made one final run to the grocery store. While there, I not only bought wieners and buns, I also grabbed all the makings for S'mores. When I got back home, John met me at the door with the announcement that the dang burn ban was back on, so there will be no more campfires for a while. Now what am I going to do with all those marshmallows?
After spending most of the day helping me to clean house on Sunday, John wandered outside to putter around. Later, when I went out to see what he was doing, I found he had built a little fire in our new fire pit, and was just sitting there, puffing on a cigar, with a positively beatific expression on his face. When he saw me he grinned and held out his arm for me to come snuggle beside him, then said "I just love this fire pit!" We sat there for a while, in comfortable silence, with John occasionally hopping up to prod the logs. Each time he sat back down, he would say something like "This is so great! Don't you think this is great?" Yeah, I have to admit. It's pretty damn wonderful.
There's just something about a campfire that's almost mesmerizing. It brings back great memories of my Girl Scout days, and of our family vacations in Colorado. Several times during our stay in Creede each year, the men would all pool the trout they had caught, and we would have a big fish fry down by the river, that lasted late into the night. Having been raised in a big city, I had never seen so many stars, and it felt as if they were so close, you could almost reach out and touch them. Needless to say, it tickled me to death when my kids echoed those exact same sentiments, the first time we sat stargazing on our porch here. John finally agreed to come inside when I promised him that we could roast wieners for dinner one night after our guests arrive.
The next day I headed in to the laundromat to wash bed linens, then made one final run to the grocery store. While there, I not only bought wieners and buns, I also grabbed all the makings for S'mores. When I got back home, John met me at the door with the announcement that the dang burn ban was back on, so there will be no more campfires for a while. Now what am I going to do with all those marshmallows?
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