Throwing Flame

Today I had a flamewar.  The good kind, the kind fought with actual flamethrowers.

Well, flamethrower, singular.  I was the only person who had a flamethrower, which is another reason why it was the good kind of flamewar.

Every winter we have to go out and burn out last year’s crop of weeds, which has been next to impossible this year because the weather has been extremely windy, and I don’t want to set fire to the entire county by sending a crop of fiery tumbleweeds bounding over the landscape.  This morning dawned warm and still, and so Kathy got me out of bed, and I went to the garage for the flamethrower.

The mission here was to flame everything that wasn’t a house or a domestic animal.

A few days ago we had a major windstorm, with 60 knot gusts, and it did me the favor of taking all the trash and weeds in the yard and piling them up against the fence.  Which meant that all I had to do was walk along the fence line and torch all the garbage that had already been heaped up for me.  Easiest flamewar ever!

But still I suffered from smoke inhalation, got scorched from getting too close to the fire, and at one point my eyes were watering to the point where I couldn’t see.  Being blind while carrying a long bellowing flame wand is just a wee bit hazardous, particularly since it’s connected to a twisty hose that’s very easy to trip over.

I survived, but when I got home I discovered that lurching over the countryside while carrying a heavy propane tank and a flame wand had thrown out my right hip, and I was in extreme pain for several hours until I had the idea of swallowing an opioid that had been prescribed to me years ago, for another problem altogether.

I am now feeling quite fine, thank you, though the drug made me sleepy, so I don’t know how much work I’ll do before I topple over.

Here’s hoping for a windy tomorrow.  I don’t want to have to do this again for a while.