For the second straight night, The Mountain got good rain Saturday into Sunday. There were a few rumbles of thunder, but for the most part it was the kind of soaking we desperately need.
State Forestry’s wildfire-danger map, updated yesterday morning, reflected the wetter conditions.
I thought an early visit to White Rock might be a pleasant way to start my Sunday. Carrying a tumbler of coffee and a jug of water (to douse coals before leaving), I made the short walk north to the fire pit.
Our soggy landscape meant that foraging for dry fuel, especially tinder, would be a challenge. Fortunately, the woodpile I’d set aside at White Rock held an ample supply under its tarp.
With material like that, I had a blaze going in no time.
The intoxicating aroma of burning cedar. Blue sky and cool air. Spring leaves glistening with droplets from the overnight rain. A solo serenade from a summer tanager.
And there’s no fire better than a morning fire.
These are the best of times.
. . .
Patriots’ passivity and patience aren’t limitless. I suspect it’d be unwise to cross The FAFO Line.
. . .
As far as I know, there’s no law against makin’ bacon — and talkin’ ’bout it — two days in a row. Besides, it’s the weekend.
Make mine crispy, please.
Hungry early yesterday afternoon, I checked the fridge for salad fixins. Iceberg lettuce. Red onion. Celery heart. Asiago cheese.
Bacon, of course.
I dressed it with freshly ground black pepper, oil and vinegar. Perfect.
Take care of yourselves, Patriots. Stay calm. Stay sharp. Stay free.
#WiseUp #LibertyOrDeath #Ungovernable