You Never Know When You Will Be Needed.
I am sorry this is long, but was quite a story yesterday. There is more after the picture. Thanks for stopping by)
The day started out well. I had lunch with an old friend. I was dressed in my pale pink gingham outfit, very summery and cool. As I left the restaurant to go and meet my family a blast of hot wind hit my face. Texas is so hot and dry right now. I felt a stab of pain for my friends who are in the throes of fighting a 5000 acre fire 15 miles west of my home. Homes have been lost and animals. One friend was involved in animal rescue.
I met my daughter, her 2 teenage sons, and 2 toddlers and my son and his wife. They had just finished eating. We stopped, picked up flowers, and went out to my husband's grave. My "adopted daughter" and her 3 sons came over as they live next to the grave yard. It was a wonderful reunion of sorts. I learned that her husband was off helping at the fire. Too soon it was time to leave. We were going to visit my mother.
My daughter, daughter in law, and 3 grandsons left in her car. I was driving my son and one grandson in my car, so my grandson could tell his plans for upgrading my 1989 Mercedes. She left a minute or two before we did. O'kay son, it was not because I backed out the wrong way. (Rolling eyes).
As we were rounding a corner, I got a frantic call from my daughter telling me to warn my adopted daughter that there was a fire going just down from her house. We were there. I pulled to the side of the road because, although it was a small fire, there was only an older man with a folded up blanket on one side of the fence and a teenager on the other side with a shovel. It was a natural that I said "are we going to help?" The son had already opened the door. The grandson said, 'I guess'. (silly me did not see he had on thongs.) I sat and called my adopted daughter while watching. The older man would plop down the big blanket and whoosh out would go some sparks. The grandson had found a bottle of water in the trunk to douse a flame. He and his brother then started kicking out dirt to the flames. My son was up by the teenager kicking dirt on the flames but one side was still inching out. My childhood instinct (click here to read about why it affected me) kicked in. Dressed in a pink gingham pant suit, I grabbed an old table cloth my son had rejected using, and went to the edge of the flames on my side and started throwing the table cloth down and stomping the cloth. It worked. My cloth didn't catch on fire but it may be damaged, oh well. With in minutes the efforts of three teenage boys, my son, and two older people were able to stop the potential damage some one had started by apparently throwing out a cigarette on the side of the road. (Where was their minds! We were in a Red Flag warning! There was a 5000 acre fire going on because of a barbequing spark. The wind and dryness are horrendous.) As we were turning off the road on the highway, the fire trucks were tuning down to the fire site. We knew they would extinguish any potential for fire springing up from the ashes, and our thought turned to Slurpee at the local convenience store. I laughed and said "I forgot to take a picture". My son laughed at me. (They just don't understand my 365 blog... picture would have been so cool).
The rest of the story... My daughter had come around the corner to see a small patch of fire on the side of the road and part of the ditch. No one was around, so she pulled over and her teenage son, jumped out to stomp it down. She called out to him, "Be careful and remember stop, drop, and roll!" There was more fire making material than he had feet, so quickly, she saw his efforts would not be effective. She called him back and drove to the house (we are in the country here) to let them know about the fire and called the fire department to let them know. The owner was not home, but his son was. Just as they had all arrived back at the fire, we came around the corner and a man from down the road had pulled over. It was perfect timing.
My son found out the irony was the house belonged to the Fire Chief in our town. I would say he was reaping a blessing of giving service. Because he was helping others, there was someone there to help him and his family in time of need. It was all good.
The day started out well. I had lunch with an old friend. I was dressed in my pale pink gingham outfit, very summery and cool. As I left the restaurant to go and meet my family a blast of hot wind hit my face. Texas is so hot and dry right now. I felt a stab of pain for my friends who are in the throes of fighting a 5000 acre fire 15 miles west of my home. Homes have been lost and animals. One friend was involved in animal rescue.
I met my daughter, her 2 teenage sons, and 2 toddlers and my son and his wife. They had just finished eating. We stopped, picked up flowers, and went out to my husband's grave. My "adopted daughter" and her 3 sons came over as they live next to the grave yard. It was a wonderful reunion of sorts. I learned that her husband was off helping at the fire. Too soon it was time to leave. We were going to visit my mother.
My daughter, daughter in law, and 3 grandsons left in her car. I was driving my son and one grandson in my car, so my grandson could tell his plans for upgrading my 1989 Mercedes. She left a minute or two before we did. O'kay son, it was not because I backed out the wrong way. (Rolling eyes).
As we were rounding a corner, I got a frantic call from my daughter telling me to warn my adopted daughter that there was a fire going just down from her house. We were there. I pulled to the side of the road because, although it was a small fire, there was only an older man with a folded up blanket on one side of the fence and a teenager on the other side with a shovel. It was a natural that I said "are we going to help?" The son had already opened the door. The grandson said, 'I guess'. (silly me did not see he had on thongs.) I sat and called my adopted daughter while watching. The older man would plop down the big blanket and whoosh out would go some sparks. The grandson had found a bottle of water in the trunk to douse a flame. He and his brother then started kicking out dirt to the flames. My son was up by the teenager kicking dirt on the flames but one side was still inching out. My childhood instinct (click here to read about why it affected me) kicked in. Dressed in a pink gingham pant suit, I grabbed an old table cloth my son had rejected using, and went to the edge of the flames on my side and started throwing the table cloth down and stomping the cloth. It worked. My cloth didn't catch on fire but it may be damaged, oh well. With in minutes the efforts of three teenage boys, my son, and two older people were able to stop the potential damage some one had started by apparently throwing out a cigarette on the side of the road. (Where was their minds! We were in a Red Flag warning! There was a 5000 acre fire going on because of a barbequing spark. The wind and dryness are horrendous.) As we were turning off the road on the highway, the fire trucks were tuning down to the fire site. We knew they would extinguish any potential for fire springing up from the ashes, and our thought turned to Slurpee at the local convenience store. I laughed and said "I forgot to take a picture". My son laughed at me. (They just don't understand my 365 blog... picture would have been so cool).
 |
| So I took a picture of my table cloth when I got home. |
My son found out the irony was the house belonged to the Fire Chief in our town. I would say he was reaping a blessing of giving service. Because he was helping others, there was someone there to help him and his family in time of need. It was all good.
Comments
Anyway, try to stay safe and thank you for fighting fires with your tablecloth.