I have been wondering if I will ever have something to write about other than the baby or the book I’m reading, and the answer is: YES! But only if it’s something that happened to someone else. Apparently. Because the only things happening to me are baby-related.
What happened, you may ask? And since it didn’t happen to me, why should you care?
My neighbor’s new barn burned to the ground! And because it’s crazy-dramatic, that’s why!
My front-yard neighbors, Kev and Kerry, bought a house about 10 minutes north of here and moved in last weekend. On Monday, Kev was burning cardboard boxes in the fire pit and his barn (his new house
has had a barn) burned down. He swears he put the fire out before he left (he was at the old house, getting it ready for tenants when the fire started). The arson guy (Kev is not being charged with arson) says an ember must have gotten under the barn.
- That’s what he gets for not recycling (not my joke).
- The previous owner put the fire pit too close to the barn, but that doesn’t excuse Kev since he used it anyway.
No one was home. The police (or whoever) called Kerry, and when she couldn’t reach Kev, she called Allison (who owns the bookstore across the street from us), and Allison ran over to the house shouting about a fire, so Kev went running for his fire extinguisher thinking the bookstore was on fire, and HOW DID I MISS ALL THIS? It was Monday. We were here Monday. We’re here all day, every day.
I wonder if this is a new curse. Remember the house that caught on fire across the street from us in Oregon? Maybe fires happen to those near us. At least it was their new house, not the old one. Wait – twice is a coincidence. Keep your eyes peeled for a third one – that’ll make a pattern.