I wish to share with you my pitfalls, follies, and other lessons learned from a small fire in my yard.
I wake up around the same time every night, thanks to nocturia. However, last night was different. I saw a red hue cast was over my backyard. I wondered what it could be. Was it a neighbor with a car in it’s backyard, some unusual atmospheric phenomenon, alien invasion? The lights weren’t flashing so it wasn’t first responders. My stomach felt like a rock dropped in it. I was thinking: “Please don’t be what I think it is.” I got closer to the window and saw what nobody wants to see at 2:30 in the morning. Flames. The flames were 10 feet high, shooting out of what was formerly known as my compost bin. And I knew instantly that it was my fault.
The evening before, I had emptied our backyard firepit of ash that filled it from a fun family hot dog roast that marked the end of a long cold winter and the beginning of spring. (At least locally.) The ashes were over 24 hours old and I figured that they were dead enough. Apparently, I was very wrong. We hadn’t had a wet winter, and the compost must have been drier than I thought. I had a little thought when I dumped it was to wet down the ash, just in case. But I didn’t want to drag the hose out of its winter storage.
I woke up my wife and told her to call 911 as I threw on my bathrobe and stuffed my feet into the pair of running shoes I keep by my bed. I must have looked quite comical in that get up but I needed to keep the fire from spreading. We had a fire extinguisher under the kitchen sink. I yanked open the cabinet and searched for it. Where was it? There’s no fire extinguisher in here! Oh, there it is, buried in the back corner. I flew out the door my robe. I ran to the fire, fumbling as I prepared the extinguisher. That small kitchen firefighting tool knocked down a few flames, but as it ran out I realized that I had been outclassed in the first round. I needed the garden hose.
I ran to the shed. I stared at the lock on the door I cursed my paranoia and ran back inside to find the key. I had one on both my key ring and my wife’s key ring. Reaching into the key bowl to feel nothing, I remember I left my keys on my dresser to help me get ready early in the morning. Grabbing the key ring and returning to the shed I opened it and searched for the long coil that hopefully might assist me in conquering the blaze.
Attaching the hose to the hose bib was fun in the dark with a wild dose of panic and adrenaline pumping through me as my heart thumped away at 200 beats per minute. I did my best firefighter impression as I twisted the knob and ran with the hose across the yard. With each step I was praying in my heart, ‘Please be long enough, please be long enough”’
I made it and opened the brass fitting on the end of the hose and waited an eternity for the water to rush down the hose. It was only about 5 seconds but felt like 5 years. Then the water finally started to flow and a blast of liquid shot out. As I sprayed down my mistake I began to regain ground in the battle. Soon, I had beaten down the flames and then took on the coals. As soon as there were no more orange showed I left the hose emptying into the pile of muck. I realized that I didn’t want the fire department to knock down my gate when they got here, so I unlocked it. Firefighters don’t hesitate to destroy stuff. I got a shovel out of the shed to go stir the ashes and make sure everything got thoroughly saturated.Continue reading“Lessons From a Fire, by R.M.”

