Tuesday, November 29, 2011

Day #413 Rain, Rain, Rain and Wildfires

It’s raining in Georgia. And that reminds me of a story. Today I'm going to tell you my version of it. Tomorrow I'll give you my sister's version.

My sister is quite a writer. She told me I could use an excerpt from an upcoming book of hers, Farm Wife Stories, which won't be published until some time next year. I'll be sure to let you know when it's available.

But, for now, here's what I remember.
Sixty some-odd years ago, Mississippi could have used some rain. I know, because that was the summer I spent at my grandparents’ farm with my mother and my father and my older sister. One day, one of the fields caught fire, and every available adult ran out to help save the crop and keep the fire from spreading to the house.
Our mother sat my sister and me in a big old chair, pointed a finger in our faces, and bent her stern face close to ours. “You sit there,” she said, “and don’t you move—not for any reason at all!” 

We sat. I don’t remember knowing exactly why we had to sit there, but I was with the big sister I idolized. I’m sure my big sister was bored silly, and maybe even frightened, because I’m sure she knew there was a fire going on, while I was blissfully ignorant of the implications of a wildfire. Our mother, meanwhile, was busy pounding at the flames with wet feed sacks.

So, when honey bees are faced with the smell of smoke (as they are each time a beekeeper smokes a hive before opening it), do they:

1.       sit blissfully unaware of what’s happening around them, as I did? No.
2.      stay in one place and worry like my sister? No.
3.      do their best to fight the fire, the way Mama did? Not exactly.
You see, bees don’t fight fire. They run from it. But first, they load up on honey so they can carry their food supply with them when they leave.
So today I sit here looking out at the rain which, as I write this, has been going on for more than 12 hours, thankful that I don’t have to worry about fire. And thankful, too, that no enormous white-jacketed monster is coming around to lift the roof off my hive … I mean my house.

Just think of this -- fish in the ocean never have to worry about wildfires.


Now, remember to check this blog tomorrow for my sister's side of the story.
BEEattitude for Day # 413:
       Blessed are the rainmakers, for they shall save lives.

The teeny details:
     Dec.   3       1-3 p.m.         Books for Less, Buford GA
     Dec.   4       1-3 p.m.         Humpus Bumpus Bookstore, Cumming GA
     Dec. 10       2-4 p.m.         Peerless Bookstore, Alpharetta GA 

my books:  http://www.franstewart.com Please buy them from an independent bookstore or directly from my website.
my eBooks for Kindle:  http://www.amazon.com/dp/B006AA0I4M


AggiePete said...

Am really looking forward to tomorrow's 'sister side of the story'! Fire is one thing I've never had to fight or be near - not big fires anyway. Lots of rain like you're getting is what Texas & Houston really need - push it back this way!!

Fran Stewart said...

The great thing about tomorrow's story is that Diana wrote it from the viewpoint of her child-self. I cried when I read it, because I was so unaware for so many years of all the ways in which my sister protected me.

And yes, I'll try to send some of this rain your way.