Wednesday, January 12, 2011

Pretty sure I asked for this.

I have been spending the past 8 days watching my husband light our dry split oak firewood in our fireplace with a flame thrower, blow torch,  taking roughly 45 minutes of him sitting there burning the wood with a loud hissing metal bottle of flaming gas which absolutely ruins the entire ambiance of a "making a fire" it literally emasculates the entire process like a crazy eyed knife wielding Lorena Bobbit. .

Me:   Honey I know you don't do manly things because you're a math genius who only works with his mind and  I am actually more than a man than you because I camp, fish, enjoy sports, and know what a screw driver is,  don't you think that is cheating?

Him:  ( glances at me briefly over his should with that look of STFU)

Me:  I am just saying,  on" those man -vs- wild:, and "survivor man",   shows they can start a fire on an iceberg butt naked after swimming in the arctic using nothing but snow, pubic hair and teeth plaque.  They Never have a BLOW TORCH.

Him- clearly we are not them, we are smarter, have a home to live in that has heat, the fire is just for "effect" and our life doesn't depend on keeping warm, they also eat bugs do you want to eat bugs?

Me: not the point, but are the bugs dipped in chocolate?

Him: valid point, and no they are not in chocolate.

Me:  Just saying The Prince is 9 and I don't think he will learn to start a fire without a blow torch, while staring through his telescope and generally speaking in dots and dashes with you because it's funny and cool.

Him: Right it's silly for him to be smart and resourceful and have a job that will afford him purchased firewood and a blowtorch to start it, we should probably make him eat bugs, and field strip a squirrel and make his own water purification system from the stagnant fountain in the front yard. 

Me: yeah like that stuff, I mean that's learning and it would make him well rounded and a survivor

Him:  I hope your're having a brain moment because your pretty much an idiot right now.

Me: Are you even remotely aware that the apocalypse is coming?  He will need these skills.

Him: Did you take an ambien?

Me: NO

Him: so this is just general stupidity and deductive insane reasoning that you have gained via the internet right?

Me:  You do know your math and wierd science skills wont save you when it goes down.  I wish you would at least put on some weight so we could find some use for you like eat you when the time comes.

Him: heh, you can eat me now.

Me:  yeah my brain is saying I need to buy you more skirts for your spring wardrobe.

Him: don't you have a blog to write or something?

Me:  Yeah I have to go update my article for,
 " myhusbandistheonlynativeamericanontheplanetthatcannotstartafirewithoutaflamethrower.com "

HIm: This conversation is over. Plus I am only like 1/8ths Native American

Me:  and like 1/108ths  manly?

Him: :mentally throwing ninja stars at my head:

Me: checking that website and thinking it's sad that it doesn't exist.

So yesterday he laid down around 4pm to take a nap, and I saw this opportunity to teach my son how to make  fire using, fire wood and a match.

We chipped off "kindeling" using a screw driver and hammer. We had a brown paper bag but I explained he could use, moss or pine straw in the wild.  I showed him how to pile it up so the air could circulate underneath  it and the fire could grow.  I let him light it with a single match.  We blew gentling to get it to going good and watched it grow big and strong, and then we piled on the first log.

Time stood still in as we bonded during this precious learning experience of us sitting on the floor doing things from scratch. I explained several things could be used to throw a spark  if you don't have a match, and what things you can use inside -vs- outside.  We were so proud of our fire we were doing fist bumps and high fives and grunting like cave men and pounding our chests at our ability to control fire.  It was like an hour of magic.

Then this happened.




Then  " grouchy mensa man" ( totally his Native American name)  emerged from the bedroom, with a look of utter disdain  went to the fireplace and opened the flue.

I thought it was a great way to  make the fire building lesson to sink in to my child.  Because nothing makes you remember the important steps like standing in your pajamas on the freezing back deck for 45 minutes watching smoke billow out of your house and listening to 7 screeching smoke detectors.


xo
PEACH OUT


Also this couple is mountain hiking/rock climbing naked.






14 comments:

BeautifulWreck said...

A post is never complete without some nudity.

Rawknrobyn.blogspot.com said...

You taught him well. Good thing your son has a manly parent around to teach him the hard core survivor skills.

I wonder what that naked couple does to navigate sharp, protruding rocks. People are into the weirdest things.
xoRobyn

Oilfield Trash said...

You crack me up peachy.

Hopefully you didn't fall down while getting to the back porch. lol

BlahCooCooBlah said...

Lol, I like that you touched on this. My husband is sort of the same....Men!

Venom said...

Haha, been there. Multiple times. Always open the flue.

Little tip - a cold flue will not draw properly. Let your kindling burn a few extra minutes before adding actual hunks of firewood.
You will use up a little more kindling this way, but a warm flue will draw the smoke up and out the chimney and you won't go deaf or freeze your nards out on the deck.

We have an awesome hand-forged wall-mounted kindling splitter that I ordered from here:
http://www.willowcreekforge.com/

They took my order over the phone, packed it in a tube and mailed it out the same day with the receipt. I believe I paid around $100 cdn, shipping included about 3 years ago.

squatlo said...

About thirty-eight years ago (my god, how did I get this fucking old?) a group of intrepid young stoners 'borrowed' a hunting cabin the Catoosa Wildlife Management area in east Tennessee for the evening's party. We had planned ahead, put some wood in the truck, including the kindling you need to start one if you don't have propane.
We got a blaze going, passed around a ceremony doob, began to drink like only high school kids can, and before too long had a card game going by the light of the fire. Then one by one we began to cough, and one by one we blamed the harsh Mexican doobweed, until finally someone said, "Hey man, I can barely see." which was followed by, "Yeah, I'm pretty stoned, too, man..."
At that point of the wizards in the room noticed that the reason we were coughing and couldn't see one another was because a squirrel had made a nice, snug nest in the chimney. We'd opened the flue (duh! we weren't complete idiots!) but hadn't thought of rodents making a second 'flue' ten feet above the first one.
It was raining on our asses as we aired out the cabin... and fires are a lot harder to put out in a fireplace than they are to start.
Great story, ma'am. Glad I found this blogsite!

Midwestern Mama Holly said...

Come on now, you can tell us the truth... that last picture of the naturalists are really you and your DH...isn't it?? =]

Miley said...

Shit dude, I was convinced that was going to happen while I was there since he was getting damp logs to light! Lordy.

LOVE. IT.

That'll show the droid. Hmph.

leslie (crookedstamper) said...

Those people are sooo NOT nekkid. They are wearing sox and shoes. CHEATERS!

WV: briack
I see your fireplace is made of briack.

Chunky Mama said...

Is anyone else saddened by the fact that the woman's butt is so much droopier than the man's?

Gravity sucks.

ThePeachy1 said...

@Chunky Momma, I saw an actual scientific study ( not the kind of random bulshit I made up like http://www.beingpeachy.com/2011/01/12/farting-oil-changes-and-trophies-its-science-baby/

It said the womans body is genetically built to add extra " usuable weight pockets" ie: hips, ass, thighs, and large boobs, to help in the event of reproduction or failure to secure a "successful" hunter gatherer mate.

The way I take that, is, if you married a man and eventually had kids, 1/2 of your weight is his fault, for the storage, and the other 1/2 is his fault also for failing to make your genetics believe he is a successful hunter gatherer and you don't have to worry about famine. I guess that's why super stars look like skeletor bobble heads, their DNA doesn't worry about it.

Also fat has no muscle tone, it's fat, so it's prone to succumb to gravity fast. ( ask my butt and boobs)

beta dad said...

At least he doesn't use gasoline, like pretty much all of my relatives, who are at least 1/8th cowboy.

Miss Nikki said...

I love me some new ditty!

my cyber house rules

Opto-Mom said...

My husband is a manly man (played football in college and works with pipe and stuff), but he still uses a propane torch. I think it's because it makes them feel like they're in Predator or something.

Also, it really sucks that the dude hiker has a much better ass then the chick hiker. Wonder if she feels like a loser?