Where there’s smoke … there’s smoke.
Most likely I was preoccupied this morning with an overpowering aggravation that was set into motion by several phone calls to the local VA clinic. So that is why I probably didn’t hear the cacophony of sirens wailing that were from Beaumont Fire Department trucks. They responded to a fire about a block east of my place on North Street. I just happened to walk outside to stretch and found an actual hairy-legged happening was taking place just down the street.
The above photo was about all I got and what little smoke was left kind of obscures a firefighter. He incidentally looked at me like I was nuts because I was taking a photo. Or perhaps he looked at me like I was nuts because he is good judge of character. It’s got to be one or the other, or something else.
A neighbor across the street from the house that caught fire told me — while taking drags off a Swisher Sweet — that the occupant of the home left something on the stove and then went back to bed. That can’t be a good thing. Fortunately, she woke up and saw all the smoke then called for the fire department. I am sure it’s bad enough having a smoky house. In fact, I know it is. But the situation could’ve been so much worse.