Smoke Burning, Eye Glazing, Good Times

Kornbread Jr. crazily eying my beautiful Sycamore Tree with his saw.

As I pick up the clothes that are in the dirty pile, I catch a whiff. I began to feel a little lightheaded. My eyes roll towards the back of my head, and I am sixteen again. Back yard bonfires. Teenagers. Laughter. Sometimes tears. There's always going to be a break up and a match up on any given night. And smoke. Glorious, hickory smoke.

I didn't need alcohol when I was a teenager. Put me around a campfire and you'd better put a leash on me. What a natural aphrodisiac! Whew! If I went to party without a boyfriend or a date, and there was a bonfire rolling smoke, I had one before I left. The minute the smell would hit my nose, my eyes would begin to glaze over, my legs would get weak, and any boy in camouflage, without a date, was destined to meet me.

I can't say I'm much different now. The weakness is still there. If I stop at a curb store during hunting season, and a pile of those men climb out of big trucks, dressed in camo, I have to sit in my vehicle with the doors locked...until they are gone...so I can't get out or else I may embarrass myself! And low and behold if there are smoke piles burning in the adjoining neighborhoods. I'd just as well not even leave my house.  That loaf of bread can wait.

A few minutes ago I heard the saw crank up. I don't have a thing for saws, but I do have a thing for the trees they cut down, the burn piles they create, and the smell that comes after. My heart began to race a bit. I walked outside to see what was going on. A couple of trees had already taken the hit and Zach was dragging what was left to the road. I was mostly making sure none of MY trees were taking a hit, and Zach of course, smiled and said, of course not Mama, in his sweet little boy voice. I asked him why we weren't going to burn them, he reminded me we live in the city now.

Darn this city living for so many things. Non-burning laws is one of them. When the boys and I lived out on Hwy 65 we had a HUGE burn pile that we kept going year round'. And first sign of it being cool enough, we'd drag lawn chairs around it and sit half the night. Toast marshmallows on sticks, hot dogs, and watch Zach continue to throw stuff in it to watch it flame and spark up. Mims was always on stand by with the water hose. Just in case we let it get out of control. Which we did. A few times.


I have passed this love of smell onto my children. We ALL have very strong smell sensor's.  Zach walked though the house with his white undershirt from last night, rammed up his nostrils, sucking up the smell as hard as he could. And I'm pretty sure I saw a little eye rolling going on.  No doubt, he loves that smell as much as I do. I wonder how he feels about girls in camouflage?

copyright © 2011 Michelle Mount Mims