If you know my husband, you know that he loves a good bonfire. We have lived in five different homes over the past ten years and we have had the fire department called to each one. It typically involves an overly-dried Christmas tree {those things light quickly and the flames rise really high}. One year, he bought a contraption called the “fire chief” with the purpose of cooking over an open flame. He decided to roast a turkey one night and we were paid a visit by a few firemen who had to call in and explain that we were just roasting a turkey in our backyard. I always wonder: Do normal people do these things??
For the past several months, we have slowly been clearing our land out here at the farmhouse, resulting in several monstrous piles of trees. Dave decided that last weekend was the perfect time for his self-proclaimed epic bonfire. We invited our family and small group from church and decided it would be a fun night to break in our new pizza oven, as well.
That pizza oven, by the way, was a pre-planned purchase by Dave … it just so happened to be on clearance one night as we were killing time at Cabella’s before dinner. Why were we in Cabella’s in the first place you ask? Dave suggested it before dinner when we just-so-happened to be right near the restaurant that he had suggested. All pre-meditated, I realize now. This pizza oven was in the “bargain cave” and he had already been eyeing it. He convinced me that it would be a perfect addition to the farmhouse… as I’ve always wanted to move to Tuscany and have a real wood-burning pizza oven in the backyard of our historic villa. This was practically the same thing. I envisioned weekend nights this summer spent outside grilling pizzas with friends and found myself convincing him to buy it. {How does he do that?!}
I will say that it was a wonderful purchase. We have already used it four times in the past week – ha! We are slightly obsessed with homemade pizza. And, if I close my eyes while I eat my slice, I can almost imagine that I’m sitting in my favorite little Tuscan town, Greve in Chianti. 🙂
Back to the epic bonfire…
Everything started out rather tame and family-friendly.
But, the piles started getting a little out of control.
Y’all. It looked like we were in a war zone. This was the view from my kitchen:
We have a neighbor building behind us and he decided to join in on the action. His fire was a teensy bit too close to his house, resulting in the fire department arriving.
And, not just one firetruck. There were six. SIX trucks. We all joked that this could send me into labor.
None of this stopped us from building another, smaller fire for the kids to roast marshmallows. At this point, why not?!
Thankfully, everyone was safe and the neighbor’s house is fine. We all had so much fun and memories were most definitely made.
And, almost a week later, the piles are still smoking and burning a little. Now, this is the kind of stuff you can only do in the country. Ha!
