Inside a Girl

We finally moved the Christmas tree from the front porch. This happened sometime last week. It was moved to the yard where it stood until a mighty mighty wind or the mighty mighty bosstones knocked it over. Last week Dave intended to burn the tree in the back yard. Instead he burned the small little spigs of pine that I had scattered all over hell & creation, mainly the kitchen & living room. Those branches burned baby. So it was decided that we needed a big open field or at least some area removed from other buildings. Last night, before the Kentucky/Tennessee game, we participated in a sacred tree burning ceremony in the wide open field next to Charlie & Page's house. No one lost any eyebrows or small furry animals although before the ceremony I was convinced that this might be my one chance to be the redneck describing the fiery mess to local news crews. I anticipated wild hand gestures & a "Honey, let me tell you." Didn't get my chance though. Everything went down without incident & then we watched the game.

I could admit that we're pyros at heart. I could admit that. But I won't. This was an important public service experiment. Never let your tree turn brown. Dispose of it immediately after Christmas. Don't wait till March. Don't throw it out in the yard near the road. Don't give some wise ass a chance to throw a cigarette in it as he passes. Brown Christmas trees burn hot &amp; hard & high. Take it from us.

A link to the video will be provided later in the day for your viewing pleasure.