Monday, January 2, 2012
Constructive Use of Your Brushpile
We brought the New Year in with an early bonfire, fattening food in slow cookers, fireworks, and shrieking toddlers.
The best part: being in bed by 11.
Or, maybe the fire department showing up because they thought our house was on fire. (We usually don't have to get a permit because of the snow - but there was no snow, and um, well, oversight on our part.) I think I owe the firemen a batch of cookies.
Two videos. One of the raging fire, the other of the fireworks (and crying children). Zeph dug it all (flapped her arms like a seagull) and Fray was cautious in her appreciation (she held my hand tightly, then said: I like blue.)
Scooty Beags demonstrated that without our guidance he would indeed quickly eliminate himself from the gene pool (well, if we're going to be technical about it, the Dogtor eliminated that possibility with a scalpel). But Old Scoots was walking across hot coals and putting himself into the fire to hunt critters who had nested in the brushpile. Clever savage, isn't he?