This post is brought to you by fire and my weird obsession with it? Yes, for the past few days I've felt like it was necessary to constantly be around a burning flame. Is it cold here? No. Maybe a little more chilly in the evenings, but that's probably only to us since we're adjusted to warmer temperatures now and anything under 80 is sweater weather. I'm sitting here, smelling like a bonfire... nice and smokey; and I love it.
Wyatt and I spent all day cleaning up the yard this past weekend. Somewhere around 3 hours in I realized that this was a lost cause and this sandlot of a backyard was not going to look like anything else. I raked a bunch of random sharp rocks and goat heads (not to mention the wonderful gift previous tenants left of broken beer bottle glass and beer caps), and now you can kinda walk outside without saying the F word. Wyatt and I collected all the rocks, bricks, boulders, and cement blocks we could find, dug a little hole and called it a fire pit. We've been spending our nights there ever since. At night my backyard looks kinda cool. I figure I'll just embrace this white trash back yard and have a fire pit like a proper white trash yard should.
And when we're tired of being outside, we just bring the fire inside by utilizing our fireplace. I swear, there is nothing more therapeutic than burning a phonebook. Have you ever done that?