Burn baby, burn
They take fire seriously here. Well, most of them do. The town has a fire warden who must approve any burn plans. Our designated burn pile grows larger as more and more wood is added. We’re nervous about burning the first time, and nervous about calling for permission to burn.
Maybe the fire warden will interrogate us. “What experience do you have burning up there?” We power through the first attempt at permission only to learn it’s not a good time. During or after rain is preferred, but definitely not when it’s even a little windy. It makes sense.
Our property site and the burn pile are highly visible from the town road. So far we have been questioned about almost any change that’s visible. Although much of it is curiosity, our builder has shared rumors he has heard that indicate some neighbors are drawing their own conclusions. “Did you see what those people from Texas have done now?”
The builder tips us off when conditions are better and the fire warden agrees. “Now where are you?” he inquires. He says our address will be posted at the fire station so if anyone calls they’ll know we’re good to go. Thankfully the blaze remains properly contained and no one stops to ask us what the hell we think we are doing.