On our last night before we had to come back to reality we watched a movie with my parents and my pops made a fire. I LOVE having fires! They are peaceful and relaxing, and they smell wonderful. A million years from now when Ioua and I own a home I hope we have a fire place, or even a wood burning stove.
I always associate them with Christmas, and one Christmas in particular. For this story we will have to go all the way back to when we lived in California. I was about 13 and my older brother and I were home from school. We had already decorated the house and all I wanted to do was sit in front of the fire place and let the Christmas spirit run through me.
My mom had this giant tin and inside it was a candle. I think it might have been peppermint flavored or something. I went to light it and I thought I did. Turns out it was burnt up and there wasn’t really a wick. So after a while I hear some crackling and think “Man, I love Christmas.” Then I hear some more crackling and ask my brother what the heck that noise is.
We both ended up turning to look at the candle at the same time. DISASTER!!! The whole candle had caught fire and it was one HUGE flame. I screamed and Randy of course jumped up and took care of everything. He threw the candle tin into the fire place and grabbed the stockings, which had caught on fire, and took them outside and stomped all over them.
Did I do that … ?
So now all of our family stockings have charred bits and I wasn’t allowed to light candles for years. I guess I’ll leave the fire making to the people who can handle it …