Yesterday evening my husband and I are walking home with Lake in the wrap from dinner at Taste of India. We are within a block of our building when I smell smoke, like cedar plank salmon without the salmon, or a hot sauna, without the sweat. Off to our left is a small, maybe 18″ in diameter, smoldering patch of beauty bark in the planted strip next to the sidewalk behind a car park. It’s actively smoking. It appears as though someone tossed down a lighted cigarette and the beauty bark caught. A sobering reminder that even though it has not felt particularly hot lately, it’s still super dry. It seems small and by extension perhaps insignificant, but it’s smoldering and slowly spreading. These things have a way of continuing to grow like an insidious carcinoma and turn into something big. Better to catch it small even if it seems like overkill or overreacting. I pull out my mobile and call 911 to report the fire.
Though my husband really wants to put it out himself. It’s all he can do to not crush it with his mighty foot. And be done with it. But you never know how extensive it might be under ground. My days of working in the woods and my early education by Bambi and Smoky the Bear were kicking in. Only YOU can prevent forest fires. Okay, urban fires.
“You’ll need to stay there until they arrive, otherwise it will be impossible for them to find a small smoldering fire in the planting strip.” I have more confidence in the Seattle fire department apparently than the fire dispatcher has in them. So we wait the three minutes for the truck to zoom up. Out hop the crew of four men and one woman and immediately set to work putting out the fire. No eye contact or verbal communication is made and yet they seem to have no trouble at all locating the hot spot. We walk off a bit, then I stop wanting to look on a bit and capture the scene for your benefit. Is that gauche? Then the friendliest fire fighter approaches us and explains the situation. Impulsively I ask if he’d oblige us with a photo op for my son. You see, he’s 2 1/2 weeks and this is his first fire truck. He gives us the greatest shot of the boys (above).
Today Lake and I walk up to TNT taqueria to meet our new PEPS friends for lunch. My friend Julie and her cavewoman alter ego taught me to order off the menu a side salad, no queso, with a side of chile braised beef on top. I love that they source their meats locally and name the farm. I’m a bit Portlandia that way. Yum! Cheers to friends!
Then after a long visit at Pharmaca we pick up some essentials and walk home just as it begins to lightly sprinkle. Good, it appears we could use some wetting rain!
Partway home Lake begins to wake up with the munchies. It’s so convenient to be able to feed him on the go while he’s in the wrap. Lake and Leak, all in all a great excursion! Thank you friends! We made it safely home.
Kicking it back at the flat under Mr. Silky’s watchful gaze.
2 thoughts on “Smoking hot!”
Amazing post, sweet lady. Well-written and highly entertaining. I am now following you. Uber cool. do you have the fireman’s name and phone number? xo
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That hat takes 10 years off you, Michael! Looking good!