And a few of them were very attractive in their full gear, but I digress…
I heard sirens pretty close which isn’t terribly common and then the unmistakable sound of an engine coming down my street. With a water main break two weeks ago and my neighbor’s house recently burglarized, the Nassau cops, volunteer firefighters and water district people were all converging at once upon a house this time. My house!
One particularly handsome firefighter filled me in that they had gotten a report of some kind of automatic alert of a dangerous situation going on here. A “blow back” from the oil burner in the basement. Potentially serious and the firefighters weren’t chancing it. Axes and all, I held the door as they piled into my house. They said “don’t you smell that?” I replied, no, because my mother loves leaving burning candles unattended and it wasn’t anything like the time she nearly torched us alive when our kitchen table went ablaze in the middle of the night just a few years ago.
From what I asked and gathered from listening to their radios with my superpower ears, once the oil company comes and cleans things out, we can turn it back on and have heat again. They saw large flames when we bumped the heat to high. This seemed to alarm them greatly. The only issue for me is we have no heat now, but it’s in the 40s and it’s nothing an extra blanket can’t handle.
They just all finally left and I crawled back upstairs to write this. This is one of my greatest fears being disabled and stuck in this second floor bedroom. Even making it downstairs, the two doors to the house are both adjacent to the kitchen and living room. Two likely sources of a fire, gas leak or CO buildup. I can punch out the screen in my bedroom, but jumping 2 stories with this rag doll body seems less wise the more I think about it and I certainly couldn’t climb an emergency ladder. I’d be dead. I’m in the corner of the house furthest from the street and exits.
Last year, I was advised by the same person who suggested another ill-fated plan to get me safe housing to file a report with the county fire marshal. I’m glad I did my research before following through on that one because what I found out is my parents would be fined for the “clutter” and unsafe conditions and possibly even have criminal charges for endangering a “vulnerable adult” (me). Would they relocate me, though? Not at all likely and I don’t need to screw over my parents. It’s not in my best interest, safe here for me or not.
So that was the dramatic start to the week here. I hope it’s the last visit to our neighborhood by officials for a long time. (Unless it’s to rescue me from living here, yeah right). Enough has happened on this typically quiet street for a good year!