Scattered Thoughts . . .

You awaken in the middle of the night to the smell of burning wood.  You get up and quickly run through your home to see if you can find the source of the burning wood smell.  As you pass a window, you notice that your neighbor's house has a little bit of smoke leaking out of an upstairs bedroom window.  You call 911 to report a house fire, frantically trying to summon help. After reporting the fire, you then call your neighbor's house to awaken them in an attempt get them out of the house.  The neighbor answers the telephone but states he can't access the rest of the bedrooms in the house where his family is located and he, himself, is trapped inside due to fire.  The situation is quickly becoming dire. As you run out of your house to see if you can help somehow, the Fire Chief pulls up in his Chief's vehicle.  He orders you to stay away from the house.  As you try to get past the Chief, a fire truck (a ladder company) and an engine pull up (pumper for pumping wa

About a week ago, little Miss Mackenzie called us on the telephone. She does this fairly often and her calls are usually to just say hello or tell us about something she had just accomplished. A week ago, however, was a little different. She asked Gee if Papa was there... Gee told her "yes"... Kenzie then asked, "How is my dollhouse?" Gee was a little confused and didn't know where this line of questioning was headed but cautiously replied, "Your dollhouse is fine, why?" Kenzie then asked about the wreath and whether it was hanging on the front door of her dollhouse yet. In the end, she told Gee, "Tell Papa I want the wreath on the door the next time I come over!"  It was a bit funny but, truth be told, I don't let anyone tell me or order me to do something. If someone asks me to do something for them, I will do it. If someone thanks me for doing that favor, I will jump at any request in the future but nobody gets to order me