Burning Troubles and Welcome 2008

It was a perfect night for a bonfire. Not too cold, the sky clear, Orion’s Belt and Cassiopeia bright. A light breeze was a harbinger of things to come.

Beautiful flames light the night

As the easy stuff burned, the fire had to be rearranged. Someone said, “Get the tractor!” I thought, oh boy, this is one of those “hey-yall- watch-this” moments of infamy, but (oh ye of little faith) the tractor did the the job beautifully!

Never fear, Larry's here!

The flames leaped quickly into the night as we gathered around with chairs and wine and the basket of troubles—printed messages from many people who took me up on my offer to burn their problems in our New Year’s fire. Our guests had their own troubles to burn and one by one the papers were thrown into the flames. It seems the camera saw some things I did not.

A red swirl of light follows Allison's hand

As Haley stands still, a folded piece of paper flies to the fire

Flames seem to engulf Odie, and yet there were no flames around him at all--a trick of the camera?

As midnight approached, Odie took out his fiddle and began to play. The juxtaposition of old and new technologies in this photo intrigued me (but later in the evening, as you will see, the old technology won).

Katie ran to the house and gathered noisemakers—pots and wooden spoons—and the kids were ready. At midnight, the wild ruckus began. Much noise, much laughter, a few kisses, and music and song. The wind picked up and we moved inside to the log room and another fire to continue the singing, music and conversation. I told a couple stories at Allison’s insistence (The Odin Stone and Rindercella—two stories that could not be more unalike) and sang a few ballads. Andrea sang some beautiful Irish ballads for us, and Odie and Jon supplied the music.

A surprise visit from a neighbor and two German foreign exchange students late in the evening added a twist, and one of the girls showed us a game with forks—how to make any number between one and ten using six forks. Think it’s impossible? It had me completely puzzled until my neighbor took pity on me and whispered the solution. Aha!

By three AM we were winding down. Most visitors left and we began finding beds for those remaining, pumping up air mattresses, digging out quilts and pillows and finding floor space.

At four o’clock the house was quiet, and everyone except me was asleep. I sat up in bed, watching the remains of the fire smolder red in the darkness as the first snow flurries began to fall. Another year had begun--with friends, family, music and laughter.