A friend and I were recently discussing the outlandish rising costs of homeowners’ insurance.  We agreed of the necessity due to fire, flood, tornado, hurricane, a leak, or vehicles blowing the stop sign and hitting the front porch (hers).  She then asked me what five things  I would rescue if I had a fire in the camper.  With the keyword being “camper,” I explained that I probably would only have a few short minutes to flee the premises due to the size and  . . . it’s a camper. 

Yes, I have a fire extinguisher by the front door.  However, electrical fires could always be further along than realized in a very short period of time.  The fire department is right across the road from my humble abode, but it is volunteer and would take some time to get firefighters and trucks in the yard.

“Just name 5 things if, by the Grace of God, you could get out of the camper during a fire.”  She was very persistent as she swigged a huge glass of sweet tea.  I had to get her on her way before I was completely out.  Gracious.

I told her in no uncertain terms that I would rescue first my girls, running them to the car and tossing them inside for safety.  Okay. If you saw my cats, you would probably think:  “She ain’t picking both of THEM cats up and running anywhere.”  Listen, I am counting on the adrenaline rush to hit my feet (and arms).  Stay with me, people.

I explained I would rescue my favorite Bible, a box of pictures, medicine I must take daily, and a rooster, the love of my life, gave me many years ago.  Sigh.

I thought about our conversation long after my friend headed home to cook chicken legs in the air fryer.  But on a different note, I wondered:  what life experiences would I toss into a roaring fire to rid their pesky memories from my mind?  I could write them down on slips of paper, bid them goodbye and into the fire pit they would drop. 

I pondered a bit, petted a cat and knew that one would definitely be a recent experience of self-coloring my hair.  It had been ages since I had attempted that and not only did I get the wrong color (I know there is a picture on the box),  but I paid a fortune for it.  After washing out the chemicals in the shower, I stepped to the mirror and thought, “Who on earth is this lady?”  Shaking my head, I vowed then and there to wash my hair daily to hopefully rid my head of that unholy hue in record time. 

Next would be a used couch I purchased when moving into my house in town.  It was not expensive and, sadly, I knew it was a mistake when my son brought it in,  but there she was.  It was too long for the room, a strange flowery pattern from the 70s, and no support in the seat.   I was perfectly sober and had enjoyed a full restful night of sleep when I picked it out, so I had zero excuses for it sitting in my living room with a scowling teenager sprawled out on it.    

Third would be my first gardening experience.  I planted everything on the same day.  I have learned to stagger planting so everything doesn’t come in all in the same week; especially as I had, at the time, very little assistance in picking and processing for freezing and canning.  I had so many cucumbers and squash, I went from house to house on the little country road I lived and quietly left bags under carports and on porches.  Kind of like a summer Santa but without the flying deer.  Even the pastor turned around when he saw me getting out of my car on Sunday mornings, carrying several suspicious bags. 

I also once volunteered for a job that was a huge mistake.  I look back and can feel the regret washing over me even now.  I had to pray and take medication just to get there.  I won’t go into details lest someone recognize that blessedly short experience in my life, but I would never ever never volunteer for anything like that again.  Whew.  Took at least 3 years off my life and it lasted only six months. 

Lastly, I thought of a very nice car, an automatic, that I sold to purchase a 5-speed.  It was fun for about a week.   Living in a small town with a stop sign on every single corner, the fun slipped away like fog on a spring morning.  I kept it for five years, but never again and at my age, would I consider it. 

 We all have experienced mistakes in our lives—small, medium and large.  Some have harsh consequences and some make us only grimace or even laugh as we recall our innocence at the time.

I have read many times how cleansing it can be to burn letters and pictures and furniture that regenerates not-so-good memories.  I have done this.  No regrets there.   Not even a worrisome couch long enough to comfortably hold cats and children all at the same time.