Thursday, November 03, 2005

Pardon the Delay

I've been wanting to tell this story for a while now, but was waiting for the photographic evidence. I finally got pictures scanned (and they didn't turn out as well as I hoped, but they'll suffice) so here goes:

So this past summer (the last weekend in July to be exact) my husband and I went on a vacation. Our first long vacation together where we didn't visit any family at all the entire time.

It was wonderful.

We went camping up north and did small day trips to various places like Mackinac Island, Traverse City, and the Old Mission peninsula. In addition to all the fun, non-camping-like things we did (like eat fancy dinners out and go to wine tastings at local vineyards) we also wanted to do some traditional camping things.

Like campfires.

So, the first night out, while I was setting things up in the tent and getting things ready for dinner, Aaron went about getting a campfire started. It took a long time for it to get going, but once it did it was a nice little campfire, and we enjoyed the roasting of hot dogs and marshmallows and warming ourselves by the fire.

While we were talking I mentioned that I might like to try to build a campfire the next night. I had been watching the Food Network the previous weekend and my favorite chef (Paula Deen) on the Network had been doing some outdoor cooking and was giving tips on how to build a campfire. I wanted to try out her method. (And I like to do things by myself just to prove I can).

So the following evening I set about building my campfire. I rolled the newspapers as instructed - from corner to corner, make a tube and tie it in a knot - and Aaron watched me like I was some sort of crazy person. I could tell he thought I had no idea what I was doing and that he'd have to come fix it later.


I arranged some kindling sticks on the newspaper knots and then built a little tepee around my pile of newspaper and sticks. At this poing Aaron decided to go change so he went into the tent.

I went about lighting my fire.

After I lit it, I was a little amazed at how fast it was starting up, but I thought, ha, I showed him!

So I sat down next to the fire. And it got bigger. So I turned to move my chair back, and when I did it got very bright all of the sudden.

I turned around to flames shooting 6 feet into the air above the pit.


Aaron came running out of the tent asking me what I had done. At first, from inside the tent he thought someone had parked their truck close by with their headlights pointing at the tent, so he was going to ask them to turn them off.

Then he saw the fire.

I was laughing hysterically because this was my first attempt at camp fire making, and I had succeeded. Well that and the fact that Aaron was freaking out. He kept asking me what I had put on it, because he thought the DNR would come around and ask him to put it out and he wouldn't know how. He thought I had thrown lighter fluid or something on it.

I hadn't.

My laughing as I swore up and down that I hadn't added anything - this was just the fire I built - wasn't convincing him.

This all happened within the span of less than five minutes.

Well, he was finally convinced a couple of minutes later (or at least gave up trying to get me to tell - there was nothing to tell), and we set about roasting marshmallows and trying to not get burned on the really hot flames.

Here's the photographic evidence (but like I said, it's not that good - it was taken after the flames settled a little bit and Aaron's initial shock wore off):

Aaron has sworn me to secrecy about this story when it comes to his friends. He's afraid of being teased that his wife is a better fire-maker than he happens to be.

I told him all those years of playing with fire really helped me in this situation.

He's still not amused.


At 11/03/2005 10:39 AM, Anonymous Jenna said...

Whoo Hooo! I live in Traverse City!!!

At 11/03/2005 11:59 AM, Anonymous S said...

Hee go girl!


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