My husband and I like fresh air.

The good news is we both love the house filled with fresh air.

The bad news is we have varying criteria, methods and internal thermostats.

I may be feeling perfectly comfortable when he will suddenly fling wide the front and back doors.  While this creates a lovely wind tunnel effect on the main floor, it also welcomes bugs and critters to join us.

I am not a fan of bugs.  Or critters with wings.

When you’ve had a BAT in the house more than once, you become sensitive to these things.

A couple mornings ago I used my favorite method of air freshening.  This meant opening every window that has a proper screen installed, from first floor to second to attic.

It was lovely.

I took deep breaths.  It felt like the house did too.  I drank my coffee, read, got dressed, had breakfast, all the while devouring that lovely fresh air.

Until… that early bird neighbor set his burn pile ablaze.  And I begin the race to slam windows shut.

But I’m never fast enough.

My nose and eyes were assaulted.  The house had lost its fresh.  And the atmosphere felt full and heavy.  For a while, my stuffy head had trouble focusing on the task at hand.

Some days feel that way even without a burn pile fire.

It’s been a little over a month since we returned from our North Carolina trip.  My refreshed spirit seemed to shrivel away quickly.  My grand list-making, project-doing plans have faltered.

Oh, I’ve been busy.  Just not doing the things I’d hoped to do.

My big, grand plans pile up in a heap and spontaneously combust with great regularity.

I need to remind myself there is only so much you can do with the circumstances you have.  I need to remember to work toward the goal in normal size steps.  To take bite size pieces, not the whole enchilada.  And I’m always up for the whole enchilada.

I don’t know what the sky looks like where you live, but more often than not we are treated to a beautiful view every evening.  I can’t stop taking pictures of the sky.

The same day as the burn pile event, we had this gorgeous view.  And then it’s God who reminds me to slow it down, enjoy the day (smoke or not), take it one small step at a time.

In short, just chill, lady.

So regarding that burn pile fire, it actually wasn’t the neighbor.  It was my very own husband who smoked us out.

But I didn’t say anything to him.  He’s been working hard to clear debri.

And because, Heaven knows, I’ve started my own share of fires.