light my fire

I was a freshman in 1967 when the Doors’ famous song hit the charts. I purchased the LP. My friend, Jill Jones, would come over and we would play it on the record player in my parents living room and dance around the floor. I doubt that my  parents knew, and I certainly didn’t know about the drug innuendos in the song. Nor did I notice that Ed Sullivan refused to shake the band members’ hands after they played the song on his show. Mr. Sullivan was annoyed because  they had broken the terms of their contract by not singing an edited version. Let’s just say that the song wouldn’t pass the lyric scrutiny for Brianna’s Ipod today.

Nevertheless, I was thinking about the song as we woke early this morning to light our own fire. The Berge’s showed up to help us load, transport and burn the limbs that Doug had prepared from our fallen tree at the lake.

A fire is not very welcome this time of year when the temperatures  already stretched into the ‘80s by 8:00 this morning.

Gratefully, with so many hands, we were able to make quick work of it.

Brianna had chosen the ‘60s as her decade for the stake dance tonight.

We had a relaxing time with the girls on the lake this afternoon and enjoyed the hype as they got ready for the dance this evening.

Try not to set the night on fire.