Wednesday, October 2, 2019

A Hot Time...

A repost for my birthday . . . because I can . . .

What was left of the barn
October second. My birthday. A time of reflection and renewal. Time to reminisce.
It was exactly 64 years ago today that I made my way into the world.
Feet first.
Fourth of six children and second daughter for Mark and Enes Stringam. A pretty exciting time for everyone. Well, for me at any rate.
I grew, healthy and strong in a loving, ordered world. My birthdays approached, were celebrated with varying degrees of success, and then left behind. First. Second. Third. For my fourth, something special was planned. Very special. And very secret. No one knew what was coming.
No one.
Early on the morning of my fourth birthday, a frantic phone call jolted my Dad out of his bed.
“There is a rather major emergency at the ranch. Would you possibly be able to come out?”
“Emergency?”
“Erm, yes. The barn is on fire.”
“On my way.”
Or at lest that is how I picture the conversation. It was probably something more in the way of . . . “EEEEEEE (high pitched screaming)!”
And Dad, “AAAAAAAAAH (Not quite so high pitched)!”
And that was the total exchange. But I digress . . .
So dad jumped into his truck and drove the twenty miles to the ranch in record time.
Really record time.
He arrived just after the fire department.
By then, the barn was well on its way to being a memory. Flames had consumed most of it and the remainder was burning purposefully . . . even cheerfully . . . in the early morning light.
Acrid smoke coiled across the barnyard, obscuring the crowd gathered to watch.
Tears filled most eyes. Some because of said smoke. Others due to the fact that their most precious possessions had – literally – gone up in it.
One hired man stood there, in his longhandles, shaking his head helplessly. It took some time, and the appearance of the ranch cook, for him to realize that his attire was . . . less than conventional. He beat a hasty retreat to find something a little more . . . conservative . . . to wear.
And not just the humans were concerned.
The smaller denizens of the barn had been rudely awakened and forced to – quickly – find new lodgings.
One mouse, intent on that very errand, scampered from the mass of smoking debris that had been his home, and into the pale morning light.
He stopped. There were two humans standing directly in his path. He worked it through his little mouse brain, then darted back into the smouldering pile.
Better the evil you know . . .
There was great loss. Two litters of pigs and sows, several horses, calves. Not to mention saddles, tack and equipment. None irreplaceable, but all valuable.
Oh, and my birthday.
Somehow, in all the melee, that was lost as well. Not that I cared. I was happily perched on the fence, just within toasting distance of the glowing fire, watching the spectacle. Not really understanding what was going on. Knowing only that, in four years of mischief, I’d never been able to come close to this excitement. Never.
The barn was rebuilt. Bigger. Better. More modern. And my . . . birthday was never forgotten again. Every year, Dad called on this date to wish me a . . . Happy Barn Burning.
With music.
And the dance.
There is a codicil. Twenty years ago, my barn burned down. Our losses were not as enormous as the ‘original’ barn fire. We lost two little pigs and some equipment. But the most important fact was the date. April first. My father’s seventieth birthday. I had to phone to wish him . . . Happy Barn Burning.
Payback is so sweet.

Further news:
Huge grass fires in Southern Alberta in 2012 consumed all of the outbuildings on the old ranch.
Including the 'new' barn.
Gone. Again.

12 comments:

  1. What a loss! We have massive wildfires here in California. So much loss.

    And happy birthday. Taking in the destruction, it is great to know that you all were okay.

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    Replies
    1. Every year, we pray for the people in California. It is just heartbreaking to see what little is left after the devastating fires!
      They had to hold some of the hired men back from charging inside, but yes. Everyone was okay.
      And thank you for your good wishes! :)

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  2. Fire and water and wind - all of them are so unforgiving. I'm glad there was no loss of human life.

    Happy Birthday, Diane! or should I say Happy Barn Burning . . . what a coincidence that one of the fires should happen to be on your father's birthday also!

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Payback, Jenny! For almost 40 years of teasing! :)
      And thank you so much!

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  3. Oh Diane, so sorry about the piggies and horses. That would've made me weep. And today? Happiest of birthdays! You're a wonderful writer and so glad to know you.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. The animals were what I grieved over. Things can be replaced.
      And thank you! You've made my day!

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  4. Happy birthday.
    Fire scares me witless. And oh, the losses. I did smile at your payback though.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Fire can be so comforting. And so terrible!
      The firemen were still putting out the fire when I called him. It was just too good to wait! :)

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  5. I'm so sorry for the barn losses. Sad especially about the animals that didn't make it. But on a happier note, I hope your birthday today is a good one!

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    Replies
    1. I always give my heart to the animals...
      And thank you, Marcia!

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