I can light a fire

and all I needed was a little help

The kids and I are camping alone for most of the summer, while my husband holds the line and works instead (like the very sexy husband he is). This means I am now in charge of things I am normally (happily) not in charge of when he’s with us: tank monitoring, outdoor cooking, general site maintenance. It’s not all bad, I have been coping just fine: he set us up brilliantly and left me with very little to actually do (because he is a dreamboat, and I, a willing passenger). But the other night I was craving a fire.

Three kids at my heels and the night’s schedule set, donned in a house dress and fuzzy slides: this was not the time for fire. But the craving would not subside. So I put some sticks and pinecones in the firepit, and a couple smaller pieces from the wood pile, and got the lighter.

Nothing took.

I made some good scorch marks on the wood, though.

I called my husband, sent him pictures of what I tried. “What am I doing wrong?” I asked. There were a few things, he graciously instructed. Building a fire starts long before you put the flame in, as it turns out. You need to ensure the fire-pit-contents will hold the heat long enough to catch the wood on fire. He led me through, step by step, until I was ready to try by myself.