Perhaps there should be a grand introductory post.  But I'm not feeling too grand at the moment; and it's rather counter-intuitive to start a journal about redneck spirituality with a lot of fanfare.

Better to ease into it, to say, Hey, how you all doing?  Pass around a few beers, settle into a lawn chair, and watch the fire.

Conversation comes slow, on some nights: there's enough there, watching the wood snap, black logs crumbling into embers.  The smoke pushing out in every direction -- no matter where you move the lawn chair, it's gonna get you.

But tonight, fire's not such a good thing.  It's dry here, and brush fires have been all over the county.  Trash fires get themselves a little bit of attitude, and before you know it, the local FD's zooming up to make sure you don't lose your house to a fire you never really intended to get all that big.

So there's the thought through the day: you never expect something to get away from you like that -- but it often does.
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