Coffee heat rising

Count Your Blessings…

…Among which we can number the things that don’t happen to us.

As Ruby and I started our morning constitutional into the Richistans, we came across a bevy of fire trucks, emergency vehicles, and cop cars.

One of the big old 1950s ranch houses in Lower Richistan — to the east of Feeder Street N/S — caught fire during the night. The carport and the vehicles therein were carbonized. The neighbors escaped with their two dogs and teenaged kids, but apparently their two cats died.

What a mess! It looks like the house is probably unlivable — the smoke damage would make it impossible to stay in there, even if they could turn the electric and water back on.

Jeez…they’re long-term residents who have been in that place longer than I’ve lived here.

Unclear, at last mention, what the cause could have been. One of the neighbors remarked, on the ‘Hood’s Facebook page, that a female transient had been seen making a fire — presumably for camping purposes, unless she just liked to watch sparkly stuff. But another discounted that theory. A lot of houses in this neighborhood — mine included, lhudly sing goddam — have aluminum wiring, which, as you may know, entails a fire hazard.

At any rate, it’s one unholy mess. Sure hope they were fully insured! The neighbors are taking up a collection for them, though…so it doesn’t sound like they expect their insurance to cover what will be some very large expenses.

For the moment, the Funny Farm itself is quiescent. That’s something.

Well, not exactly: a brisk wind has been whaling around all afternoon, and one of the whirligigs on the roof has decided it needs to be lubricated. So as it spins in the breeze, it goes wooodleoodleoodleoooo. Charming. I ain’t a-climbin’ up in the attic or onto the roof to spray it with WD-40, so I’ll have to wait till Monday to hire a handyman to come lubricate the damn thing.

But that’s one heckuva lot better than shoveling out ashes and fighting with insurance companies…  🙁

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