Night and Day: Fire and Ice

Like a symbol of this schizophrenic, volatile world were these last couple of days. One moment you are warm and cozy, calm and protected, easing down toward the hours of sleep, and the next you are reminded there is no safety and security here.

I was in the hall and the rest were looking at TV, but then my daughter was asking, "Why are there firetrucks out front?"

"Of our house?" I asked.

"No, along Glenrock."

That is the street below us into which ours feeds. Sure enough, there were firetrucks on Glenrock, many, many firetrucks, all down around the corner as far as I could see between the houses.

They had snuck upon us. There had been no sirens blaring. My daughter heard something of a hiss and looked out and there they were. We had no idea why. We could see no fire along Glenrock, but straining against the night above and the glare below, it did appear there was smoke billowing from behind the house directly across from our street's entrance.

This was about 10:00. The last truck left sometime between 11:30 and midnight. The firehouse tweeted a fire at 107 Woodgreen, no other information except a photo of the house with flames shooting from every window.  The only other comment came from the News Journal Online's list of fire calls. It listed a home fire, electrical, but gave the address as 127 Woodgreen. Typing error or two fires going?

Typing error as it turned out.

We've had two other big fires in this area over the Christmas period, each in apartment complexes leaving several families displaced for the holidays. These were so close in time and near in distance my wife feared an arsonist. The one was ruled accidental, someone using their stove as a heater. The other, however, the one that burned 20 apartments -- maybe. One person died in that fire, a women, and her death was ruled suspicious. I have not heard anything further.

Fires are scary things. A little innocent spark can take away everything you have. We had a fire here a
few years back in 2010.  My wife and I were out to dinner and when we came home our sofa was sitting in the front yard and two lamps were by the driveway. It was dark and I saw the two lamps, because they were near my car when I got out. My first reaction was someone was dumping their trash at my place. The sofa was behind a bush and I didn't even notice it. When we entered the home was when I realized the sofa was missing from the living room.

My daughter, Laurel, was shook up for she had been there, which was fortunate. She was reading and smelled something. An electrical cord had gone rogue and somehow ignited the sofa with a slow burn. She called 911 and the firemen came and toted the flaming couch outside. They also turned off the circuit breaker in the shed. The only damage was a hole burnt in the carpet, the two lamps and sofa, of

course, and the jam on the storage shed the firemen ripped open with a crowbar. My daughter didn't know the keys to the shed locks were hanging on the kitchen wall near the backdoor. Oh well, could have been worse. If laurel had not been home we probably wouldn't have had a home to come back to.

We other daughter, Noelle, baked us a flaming sofa cake for our wedding anniversary.

We were much more fortunate than the people at 107 Woodgreen on Monday night. Their place appears to have suffered a good deal of damage.


The day after the fiery night, December 6, last of the twelve days of Christmas, it snowed. The temperatures had been mild so far, even warm on Christmas Eve, but that was about to change. It was 19 degrees out when I woke on Tuesday.

I had been scheduled to visit a friend, my Pastor actually, that morning, but we had cancelled the night before because of the threat of bad weather. I didn't think this storm would amount to much, but decided to err on the side of caution. I was glad I did. It began snowing sometime before dawn and continued until well into the afternoon. It did not lay down a two-foot mess as the storms did last winter, leaving behind only about three inches at my place (although the weather-people kept claiming there was but an inch.) Apparently depth doesn't matter; it's how it lay, which was as slippery as can be.  There were quite a number of accidents on the roadways during the day.

I choose not to drive anywhere, probably also a good thing. I did decide to take a walk and as I left a person came struggling to drive their SUV up our street that is a hill. He was just pass my driveway in the middle of the road with his wheels spinning gleefully in rebellion against further progress. This has been a winter sport for us since we moved here 32+ years ago; watching the many who believe they can conquer our hill in winter snows. Many try and many fail and nobody ever learns to bypass our street for the next where the climb is easier.

As my faithful readers already know I take a four to five mile hike every morning. Sometimes this is interfered with, but not often. I hike in all kinds of weather, rain, snow, hail, sleet as well as the blazing, humid days of summer.  On occasion the rain is too heavy or the snow too deep, but these are rare. Usually the morning finds me in one of North Delaware's wonderful parks, but as I said, this snowy morn I choose not to use the car. I decided to walk in my neighborhood.

I use to walk through the neighborhood every night years ago and twice on Saturday, Sunday and Holidays. For many of those walks I had a yellow Lab accompanying me, but Tucker died in 2009 at the age of 18, so since then my walks have been alone. They have also been in the parks and not through the neighborhood.

I set off down the hill, then up Woodgreen to view the house that burned. From there I crossed a footbridge above I-95 into the back of the old high school.

The snow was falling steadily. It was those small flakes and very powdery. It was already laying well, but it wasn't the kind that packed easily. It wasn't conducive of building snowmen along the way.

I love to walk in snowstorms. It is invigorating. Yesterday was January 6, the twelfth day of Christmas and the scene in Claymont was Christmasy indeed.

Except it led to this:

Hot and Hazy: And other Rambles, The Series Ends

That heat wave that washed over us this July has ended, briefly anyway, a new one is moving in although with lesser temperatures. When you rise and say, "Thank you, it is only going to be 95 degrees today," then you know how bad the last one was. But since "the hot one" came in as I started this little series loosely connected to it, it is fitting now that we are expecting a balmy high of 88 to end it.

Over on Tamela's Place  she has posted advice on respect between married couples. The last line of the last paragraph is applicable to us all, married or not, in our relationships to all around us.

"Endeavor to be perfect yourselves, but expect not too much from each other. If any offense arises, forgive it; and think not that a human being can be exempt from faults."

From the book: The Royal Path of Life by T.L. Haines 1876

This is not bragging, because I have too many failures to brag, but honesty. I try to live my live to that admonition. It is a quality that seems to lack quantity anymore. People seem pretty quick to offense over even perceived slights and very unwilling to forgive. And who takes blame for their own actions when there are so many others around to point the finger at? To me this bromide should be the foundation of good character and for a Christian, as an essential item of their spirit as the heart is to their body.


Now having recognized we need to forgive because none of us are exempt of faults, we are going to talk about the faults of others. But it isn't wrong to do this either. We may try very hard to overcome our faults, but how do we know these faults if no one ever points them out? And sometimes people have faults that are dangerous or unfair to others. We may forgive them for this, but it doesn't mean we allow them to continue doing them willy-nilly without comment. Otherwise, why have jails?

A couple weeks ago I was doing my daily walk in a state park and across the creek saw a cross. I don't know who put it there or why. If it is a memorial to someone who died in the river it is a big one. I can't tell if there is I any writing on it.


Is it in violation of anything? I don't know. Far as I can determine it is not on the Brandywine Creek State Park property or any of the land under the Woodlawn Trustees purview. Where it has been erected appears to be private property. Was it erected by trespassers or with the permission of the landowners? Did the landowners' erect it? I have not a clue. 


Certainly that big wooden sign board floating in the creek not far from the cross is a violation of something. It is litter of a large scale and a danger to those who raft, canoe and kayak this water. Again, though, I don't know if it is there by intensional design or accident.  I thought a week later it had been removed, but no, it had just floated further downstream.


Strangely, on the same walk I saw the cross, I did take note of several violations of park policy, some serious, some not so much.


The first violations were a mix of the messy and the menacing. 

As I came back up the path from where I had spotted this cross I saw a bag lying in the grass just off the path. As amazing as this may sound, this was unusual. I see very little in the way of trash along the many trails in these parks where I roam. When I do, it is usually a water bottle, which may have been tossed or accidentally dropped by a hiker or biker. I'm not saying I never find stray paper or plastic, just very rarely and hardly as blatant as this bright bag by this main trail.

Coming to the spot I discovered this miscreant wrapper wasn't alone. That little rise just beyond the brush was littered with more debris. 


Here were soda bottles, cracker boxes and candy wrappers strew about.


There was something even worse. The remains and ashes of an open fire.


It was pretty clear persons unknown had built a fire to make smores. This indicated that three violates of the parks' rules had occurred.

First, this most likely happened after dark, when the park is closed and no unauthorized person should be wandering about here. Second, there was much litter in a place that is a carry in-carry out nature preserve, Third, and totally irresponsible, an open fire had been build. We have been in a long dry spell and the fire conditions are moderate to high. A little breeze, a missed ember, and you could have easily had a wildfire here as they have had in some other states recently.


Is there any connection between this fire, litter and that cross and the bill board in the creek? I don't know, other than they all suddenly appeared in the same area simultaneously.

I didn't have to go much further or much longer to come across another violation of park policy. Unleashed dogs being walked. This may be the most common violation I see and I see it on almost every walk I take. It doesn't particularly bother me, although I understand the reasons for it. However, every time I have come upon such dogs they have been very well trained and behaved. 


Now, I admit, when I come around a corner or over a hill and am confronted by a dog I grow very wary if I see no master about. One never knows what a strange dog might do. I also know that even the gentlest dog can feel the same way upon meeting me. It doesn't know what I am up to either and a sudden move could make it feel threatened, and who knows where that leads.


Frankly, the only dogs that ever really scared me on walks were on leashes. I met two Pit Bulls on several occasions on the Northern Delaware Greenway, always restrained on leads, but every time, baring teeth,  they pulled and tugged on their ties trying to come at me. Each time I prayed their owners had a good grip on those leather straps and nothing broke. This did not seem a good place for these animals to be walked, on leashes or not. There are some walkers with children and children are fascinated with dogs and often run toward them without a care. But hey, I guess that is just me, an old worrywart. 


I'll tell you three recent encounters with unleashed dogs.

I was on this very same trail one morning and came to this bridge. Thinking I would set my Flip on the rocks to the one side and film myself walking across here, I was suddenly startled by a large dog leaping right in front of my face from where I was about to place the tripod.


He had seemed to come out of nowhere and was quite alone. He landed on the path and looked at me and I am him.


"Are you alone?" I asked.


He said nothing.


What do I do now. This appeared to be a stray dog. He had to belong to somebody for there was a bandana around his neck, but who and where were they. Moments went by and then I heard a voice from above.


"He's friendly."


I looked up and there was a lady and another dog high up on these rocks. As I watched she came walking down upon them. I had never noticed there was a path that went up this outcropping of stone.


A second dog encounter was actually an expected encounter, but non-appearance. It was when I dared remove my shirt thinking I was in a secluded place and then this other woman with two dogs came up the path. I met the same lady a second time further down the path, meaning she had circled around (probably fascinated by my manly physique and wanted another look). She was coming just up the steep hill, that I prefer to go down rather than up. One of her dog led the way, but I didn't see the second.


"Aren't you missing someone?" I asked. 


She stopped and looked back. Then she called a few times, but the other dog did not appear.


"She hasn't got lost yet," said the woman and went on her way and I on mine.


I went down the steep hill, but no sign of her other dog anywhere before me as I went. I presume it went down the creek side path in the opposite direction and knew its way home, at least I hope so. But I thought, neither dog was on a leash. She wasn't even carrying any leashes. Now one of her pooches was running free and alone through the paths, what kind of violation was that? What might the fine be if she's caught by a ranger?


My third story just happened the other day. I was hiking up the creek path, which is a narrow trail through the woods. At one spot I could hear sounds approaching from behind and in front of me. There was a little side path on the trail and I stepped upon it just as a large Bulldog bounded around a bush and came to me. At the same time, two bicyclists came from the other direction, then came a man with another Bulldog on a leash. 


The first Bulldog was nuzzling my hand as its owner came up and snapped a leash upon it. One of the biker's said to him, "That's what happens when you don't have them leashed. There's a big fine for that, you know?"


"Are you cops?" the Bulldog man asked.


"Yes, we are," said one of the bikers. (I was rolling my eyes at this.)


"Well, thank you for your service, sir," said Bulldog man and the bikers rode away.


Bulldog man and I exchanged glances, neither believing these bikers were cops. Bulldog man, now with both beasts leashed, walked on down the path.


I didn't need to hear any bikers lecturing anyone about trail violations. Next to unleashed dogs, they are the biggest offenders I run into. They speed up and down these trails often giving no warning they are coming up behind you. Not all, but it is becoming more the rule than the exception, sad to say. Use to be bikers would call out, "On your left" as they approached. Now too many just whizz right pass. You seldom hear them coming until they are upon you.

They also go where they shouldn't. Some trails are marked as off-limits to bikes, but they are there. The photo to the right shows fresh bike tracks up on Rocky Run, one of the trails they are not allowed. A couple weeks ago I was on a guided tour on Rocky Run when a forbidden biker came down the narrow trail up on the high ridge. Not only didn't he give warning, he didn't even slow down. We had some old people and some children in the group. There could have been a disaster; there could have been injuries.

Bicycles aren't the only conveyance people are not suppose to ride on trails like Rocky Run. There is something else banned, horses.


Be careful where you step, friend, for this was left not far from those tire tracks, and believe me, no bicycle left this.

Hot Flaming Sofas, Batman

And so it is after our electrical fire in the living room. Our scorched couch now rests in the back yard, defying me to disassemble it for disposal. Our little vacation trip was cancelled and we spent the money on a new sofa instead.

Thus we are celebrating our 49th wedding anniversary in grand style, aren't we?

But my daughters showed up on the day after the fire and a day before our anniversary with an anniversary cake they baked for us.

It is in the shape of a sofa, a burning sofa with flames shooting from its middle.

And a Cursed Year Curses On

This should be the morning we are packing up for a trip, our little one night stay. I am on vacation. I take my vacation in mid-September during the week of our wedding anniversary (49 years). Usually we go on a car jaunt somewhere, but the last couple seasons have not been kind. Last year we managed to spend a few days staying in Atlantic City.


This year all I could muster was an overnight and it wasn't easy scraping up money for that.


It was a fairly modest plan. My wife is a fan of Top Chef. She and my offspring favor a contestant named Kevin. Kevin is the executive chef of a restaurant called Rat's.

Part of the fascination is that a restaurant would have such a name. There used to be a small eatery in a nearby town called Rat's Nest, but it was in the midst of a university campus catering to students with low priced comfort food. Not the case here, according to the article, "5-Star Restaurants in New Jersey," New Jersey Monthly named it "Best of the Best and "its unappetizing name notwithstanding, Rat's is a study in culinary excellence. The French chateau inspired restaurant has been repeatedly ranked No.1 by Zagat's directory of New Jersey restaurants."


It is located in Hamilton, New Jersey on the property of an art center called "Grounds for Sculpture".


Anyway, since my wife had been expressing the desire to someday eat at this restaurant I thought this is somewhere we could go on this vacation, if I could make reservations.


Monday night I got on line and found Rat's on Open Table and I could get seating on Wednesday evening. I didn't want to drive into foreign territory where I would have to find my way home at night (I got horribly lost in upper New Jersey a couple years ago, but that's another story), I wanted to stay overnight. 


Before I made the restaurant reservation, I went on line to a hotel chain to see if they had rooms nearby. (I have a frequent guest membership with this chain, although I haven't been all that frequent a guest in recent years.) They did indeed have a nice room in Cranbury, about a half hour from the restaurant, so I booked it. Then I went back and made the dinner reservation.

Things had gone very smoothly for a last minute decision, perhaps I should have taken that as a bad omen. The only hitch had been about a special tour. The Little Woman and I like art and we like gardens and we enjoy walking in gardens of art. This Grounds for Sculpture is supposed to be pretty sensational, 35 acres of art work within a landscaped setting. There was a special tour the evening we were going. It was at 5:30 and included a free appetizer for anyone dining at Rat's afterward. I called the number to register for this tour, but it must have been too late in the evening and all I got was a voice and a string of numbers. I would wait to tomorrow. 


As it was, I never called the next day and this was fortunate. One less thing I had to cancel last night.


As previously stated, I am on vacation this week. We have basically been hanging about home and then trying a restaurant or two we normally don't go to because of distance or price. We had gone out to the Ship Inn last night. Our son was working a shift where he wouldn't be off until 8:00 PM. Our Eldest Daughter came in the afternoon to visit, as is usual for a Tuesday. She is studying veterinarian medicine and has an online forum every Tuesday, so she stays about to use my computer.


We went to dinner and it was very good, although there were not many patrons. I guess this economy has hurt the more upscale restaurants. There is certainly nothing at all wrong with this place as far as ambiance, decor, food or service. The only thing that could possibly be holding it back is the price.


We had our meal and got home about 8:15. Our son's car was parked on the street, which I noted, but figured he had gotten home and hadn't gone to get something to eat yet. Our daughter's car was parked where it had been when we left, a bit further down the street.


The house was very dark, but even though both their cars were there, I thought they may have gone somewhere after all. Perhaps my other daughter had stopped by and picked them up.


When I pulled in the drive I saw lamps laying along the left edge up near the car port. What is this? We have had some vandals throwing eggs at our cars this year, but now are they throwing lamps? I hadn't noticed the sofa in the front yard yet. As I say, it was dark.


About then I saw my son come down the walk toward us. I don't like coming home and having my son come out to greet us. It generally bodes trouble.


We had had a fire. The firemen had been there and sprayed it out with fire extinguishers. Fortunately, my Eldest Daughter had been there and she had looked across the room and thought, "Oh my god, there's a fire."


She went across the room and flung the sofa away from the area. It is not a light piece of furniture and my Eldest is not a big woman, she might be 5 foot 6 and weight 110 pounds. After clearing away some of our cats, she called 911 and the fire company responded very quickly. They were there in mere moments.


Our neighbor next door took my daughter in and she called my son at his job. "You have to come home right away, the house is on fire."


You can imagine his thoughts.

When we arrived everything was under control. The fire trucks were gone and the street was quiet, it is just our sofa was in the middle of our yard. The firemen had told my daughter not to bring it back into the house because even though the fire appeared to be out, it could still possibly reignite.


The firemen had opened an unscreened window in the computer room to allow a cross breeze to air the house out and the kids first thoughts were, "Oh no, did the cats get out." At that point they couldn't find any cats, all these beasts had headed for their hiding places when the firemen came in.


They went about and accounted for all the cats except Asta. I went downstairs to the rec room and I saw Mark atop a cabinet all hunkered down shaking.  Hobo Joe was sitting on the cat station I had put in the corner, also hunkered down in fear. As I turned a cat came scurrying out from somewhere and I was glad to see it was Asta. All cats now accounted for. (The Kids tell me during the conflagration Hobo Joe was apparently protecting Kerouac, the little kitten.)


The sofa has pretty much had it. I know the Little Woman has been wondering about getting some new furniture, but I didn't think she'd go this far!

Actually the culprits were those lamps I had first spied in the yard, or rather, the extension cord they were plugged into. The cord was old and there was a short in it, which caused the fire. (On the right is one of the culprit lamps now assigned to the trash bin.)


If you look closely at the edge of the door you can see the marks left by the firemen when they pried it open. My Eldest daughter didn't know we kept the key to the lock hanging on the kitchen wall, so they busted in to throw all the circuit breakers to off.


Amazingly, the door lock still works. They must have stuck a pry into the frame and just pushed the door open enough to slip the lock.

We were very, very fortunate, thank the Lord, because this could have been a lot worse. Here is where the sofa used to be (the end table is moved over some, which is why the space looks so small). There is a square hole that the firemen cut out of the carpet. My wife has been replacing the carpets she had in the living room, so what you see is really under-carpet. (That is rebel on the chair, by the way.)


If my daughter had not been there and if she had not acted with the presence of mind to shove the sofa aside, the whole house may have gone up. We came out of this with a lot of excitement, but no one was hurt and we suffered only minimal damage: two lamps and a sofa basically. When I turned the circuit breakers back on last night everything in the house worked.


The biggest casualty was my vacation plans. The Little Woman felt a great deal of anxiety about going away overnight now. We can always go to Rat's or to the Grounds for Sculpture. Better to get back our ease of mind first. I went back on line last night and cancelled everything.


Today we will spend that trip money on a new sofa.


And my cursed year continues unabated.






The photos of Rat's and part of the Grounds for Sculpture are from their website. the rest of the photos are mine.