Remember the potluck with the fire fighters? Check yesterday's blog. Sunday morning I am curling my hair. I have on a robe and nothing else. Hank and Ann are dressed, Marty is getting ready to shower. And I hear a firetruck coming up the hill. It is a motor sound you can not mistake. Then it stopped, on our parking pad. Out my bedroom window a big shiny red firetruck!
Marty yells at me to get dressed, forget the hair. Is it Lt. Stewart come to see us? I threw on clothes and we went outside. There are four firemen ( correct usage, no women this time) and we know a couple of them. But no James Stewart. As we talked to them we found out they were there to check compliance.
Oakland requires residents, especially in the hills, to meet strict regulations on fire breaks. No trees/bushes touching the roof, no dead weeds, no wood piled against the house, etc. If you don't fix the problem they will. And the bill goes on your tax bill. Anyway they were checking the other side of the street. ( our side was done last week)
So no James Stewart. They were going to tell him hello for us. And I went in and tried to salvage my hair.
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