Tonight I put a stink bomb down a woodchuck hole at about 6pm and found a fire in the barn when I came downstairs to make coffee after dinner.

At first I couldn’t see the fire itself, only its glow. I ran outside and saw the back face of the barn on fire. I called back to Wendy to call the fire department and ran out to the barn, grabbed a bucket and started throwing water from the sauna bath tub on the fire. I thought later I hadn’t been there more than 5 minutes but looking at the tank ⅔ empty I realized I must have thrown 60-75 buckets of water on the fire at very least.

At the same time I was rustling around a neighbor was trying to hook up a hose. Wendy was out on the street directing the volunteer fire department into the driveway. I realized immediately, instinctually, while the event was occurring that for all its troubles I love this place. It’s special, and whatever it might take I’m committed to it. Fighting to save the barn I realized that when you’ve put yourself into something you can’t just deny that natural affection.