I like fire. I like fire so much that I know if I had a house with a fireplace, I'd soon be, well, homeless because I'd burn it down messing around with the fireplace. Anyway, next best thing is that I have a chiminea in the back yard. It gets hot, really really hot. Flames shoot out the top. It's so cool. We also have three trees in our yard which results in many, many sticks lying about. I collect those sticks in a pile for the times I can sit in front of the chiminea and burn them all up. Today was that day. First I mowed the front yard with the manual push mower I got from my mom and that was surprisingly easy, even though the grass was still quite wet with dew. Steve mowed the back with the power mower and then I commenced to burning. I'm not sure it's legal, though it's not much different than if I barbecued with wood, right? I mean, it's fairly contained and I don't leave it unattended. And today I only got one minor burn, though it is black with burnt in ash. Whee!
So, after the fire making, we took Foxy Brown for a walk, checking out some alleys in our neighborhood we don't regularly get to. In one of them a very large pit bull mix CLIMBED over his 4 foot fence and charged Foxy Brown and started growling and attacking and jumping on her. I was yelling and pulling and trying to keep him off, Steve was kicking and yelling, Foxy was SCREAMING and totally freaked out. Finally, the dog's big ass hoosier owner finally came out and grabbed his dog and said NOTHING to us. NOTHING. No apology, not anything. All I could manage in my adrenaline rush was a lame "you might want to get a taller fence." Son of a bitch. I love animals, but I was ready to pound that dog in the head with a big frakkin' stick if I could have gotten my hands on one. Yeah, we'll be staying out of that alley.
What else is there to do after your dog gets attacked by a pit bull than to bake a pie? So, full of Granny Smith apples, there you go.