Jungle Drums

Fiorella gets a kick out of harvesting rocks in the wildwoods.  It makes her feel good because she's using the resources at hand and is thus not only self-sufficient and eco-thrifty but--well--cheap.
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There's something exciting about owning a parcel of virgin woodland.  Husband and Fiorella have lived on their five and one-third acres of jungle for twelve years and still don't know it all.  While Fio was scouting for rocks recently, she discovered an area in the south woods where an eight-foot wide circle had been cleared at some time in the past. The remains of a fire circle sat in the middle of clearing, and to the side was a crushed beer can.  Probably not a BSA encampment.
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Fiorella has written about the south woods a lot lately because it's a terra incognita that she has just lately been able to explore because the major yard areas have finally been tamed by a wonderful man named Fernando.  God bless him.
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Morning

Fio awoke this morning to see the eye of the fire, the last burning ember, watching over her through the screen.  And out the window, the back porch light lit the darkness like a yellow moon. Awakened by Fio's activity, Sonia Dog adjusted herself against Ftorella's side, then went back to sleep again as Mommy reached under the couch for her laptop to type this entry.

Good morning.  May your day be blessed.

Fire!

A fire is burning brightly in the fireplace, thanks to Husband's diligence, and Fiorella just hauled in another yet dead tree to chainsaw into fuel--as if the area across the driveway isn't already stacked solid.  But Fio wants to make sure no fire is left unfed.  Fire is a sacred sign, like the licks of flames that appeared on the tops of the apostles' heads at Pentecost. It is both benign and hostile and signifies the beginning and end of the world. Long may it burn in Fiorella's fireplace.

Fear of the Dark

Following up on yesterday's post, Fiorella wonders if fear of the dark is part and parcel of the human genome, and if our wayback ancestors  countered it by gathering around a warm, protective fire and telling each other stories with happy endings.

Prometheus

Fiorella doubts it was Prometheus who brought light to the world.  She thinks it was a woman, a woman who walked around opening the shades of night on the morning of the world, just as women do every day of the week.

My Dear Watson

Remember how taken Fiorella has always been with fires (in the fireplace, of course)?  Well, she's decided to put her fascination to use by having the heroine of WHERE THE HEART LEADS get all hot and bothered as she watches Tall, Red and Handsome start a fire from scratch.

There's something elemental about a fire.  And sex is pretty damn elemental too.

Necessities of Life

Most of the necessities of life are dangerous in excess. Think about the water we drink every day-- Fiorella probably more than most. In excess, it is a flood or a tsunami.  Think about fire, necessary for us to cook our food and warm out homes.  In excess, it will consume a forest--and us. What about food--in excess, it ruins our health.

But we can never have too much love.

Last Night

All is well
All is swell
The computer quits
The battery emits
The fire glows
The cold wind blows
All's been said
Going to bed.

Fire Trumps

All is not well in Fiorellaville.  Her car battery is refusing to take a charge, and her computer is refusing to shut down.

On the other hand, Husband has chainsawed wood and built the first fire of winter, a moment of magic and wonder.  With flames leaping and snapping in the fireplace, who cares about car batteries and computer glitches?

Autumnal Rite

Yesterday Husband spent half the afternoon outside chainsawing trees and splitting logs.  Then he made a fire in the fireplace, our first one of the season. 

Welcome, Autumn.