Summary: Taken directly from the number 1 spot of Merriam-Webster.com's Top 10 List of Particular Kinds of Lovers, pyrophile in today's post shares a little etymology and a little of my own—and our country's—celebratory history.
Pyrophile (PIE - roe - FILE) - (n.) in essence, a pyromaniac. The exceptions are that a pyrofile may: (a) be drawn to volcanoes and/or staunchly hold tight to the notion that volcanic energy comes from a connection to the earth's core, or (b) love fireworks as much or more than fire, itself.
In this last sense of the definition, my husband is definitely a pyrophile! And it's fitting that the word should be this week's WOW: Not only is it the week of our nation's celebration of independence—with fireworks galore—but it's also the day after my 8th wedding anniversary. And, yes, as would be expected of anyone marrying on the 5th of July, our wedding was certainly celebrated with fireworks. In fact, I was impressed back then with my then-new partner's ingenuity: With the supervision of two of our firefighting friends (pyrophiles in their own rights), he custom-built a fireworks launcher to set up the evening's show. For five years after the event, we held an annual 4th of July-slash-anniversary party, inviting back many of our wedding guests, and hosting yet another fireworks show. It was always so fun!
This year, we had a smaller, more private event. Although there was no automation and sound to enhance our fireworks display, I got in on the old-fashioned, fuses-and-lighters-style fun. That's right: I lit my first large firework (and then several more), as my mate passed his pyrophile bug right on to me. Now I totally get what all the buzz is about.
So, happy Independence Day! Enjoy the rest of your week and your life of freedom. (And happy anniversary to my baby!)
© KiKi Productions, Inc. 2011
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