Scott had to fly back to the mainland
the first week in March.
the first week in March.
Sunday night came and I couldn't sleep.
No sweet husband beside me.
It's the usual,
waffling between the parent of a teenager
feeling of righteous indignation.
You know, how The Fugitive felt.
The hot Harrison Ford version, not
the eeehh David Jannsen one.
and missing Taghe, who is far away in Mexico.
I couldn't do anything about the righteous indignation
but I could email my missionary.
As I typed away, I heard an alarm. Which in itself
didn't disturb me at all.
We live in densely populated Waikiki.
Alarms and sirens are the background noise
of city life.
But this one didn't stop and I realized it was the
building fire alarm.
By now Abby was awake and I stepped outside
(yes I felt the door first)
and looked down the corridor.
There was smoke coming out of the elevator area.
I couldn't see any flames
and our building was constructed from
concrete blocks so I assumed I had some time.
We got dressed, grabbed my phone, car keys, and all the important papers and documents.
Down 7 flights of stairs and even though
less than 5 minutes had elapsed,
firemen were pulling up.
The smoke was much thicker on the ground floor
and we retreated down the street with our neighbors.
There we were, standing in front of the Queen Kapiolani Hotel
at midnight. Looking like the homeless across
the street at the bus stop who were in fact, looking at us.
The source of the fire was the dumpster, which ignited
after a not-too-bright individual dumped their BBQ
charcoal after their Sunday party at the pool.
The smoke went up through the trash chutes
on all the floors.
It was quickly contained, and we got a chance to
know our neighbors better during the 30 minutes
we were outside.
Our next door neighbor flirted shamelessly
with the firemen while attired in her pajamas
and kimono.
She was very cute, for a 50 something year old.
And what single lady can resist these fellows?
Though we got back in our homes by about 12:45
Abby and I were too wired to sleep.
We made some snacks and watched TV until 2 am.
I was most grateful that it was a minor incident and a
lifetime of emergency preparedness
had truly prepared me to act quickly.
And if you have ever wondered,
the stink from a garbage fire
lingers through the chute for
weeks and weeks and weeks and weeks.
No sweet husband beside me.
It's the usual,
waffling between the parent of a teenager
feeling of righteous indignation.
You know, how The Fugitive felt.
The hot Harrison Ford version, not
the eeehh David Jannsen one.
and missing Taghe, who is far away in Mexico.
I couldn't do anything about the righteous indignation
but I could email my missionary.
As I typed away, I heard an alarm. Which in itself
didn't disturb me at all.
We live in densely populated Waikiki.
Alarms and sirens are the background noise
of city life.
But this one didn't stop and I realized it was the
building fire alarm.
By now Abby was awake and I stepped outside
(yes I felt the door first)
and looked down the corridor.
There was smoke coming out of the elevator area.
I couldn't see any flames
and our building was constructed from
concrete blocks so I assumed I had some time.
We got dressed, grabbed my phone, car keys, and all the important papers and documents.
Down 7 flights of stairs and even though
less than 5 minutes had elapsed,
firemen were pulling up.
The smoke was much thicker on the ground floor
and we retreated down the street with our neighbors.
There we were, standing in front of the Queen Kapiolani Hotel
at midnight. Looking like the homeless across
the street at the bus stop who were in fact, looking at us.
The source of the fire was the dumpster, which ignited
after a not-too-bright individual dumped their BBQ
charcoal after their Sunday party at the pool.
The smoke went up through the trash chutes
on all the floors.
It was quickly contained, and we got a chance to
know our neighbors better during the 30 minutes
we were outside.
Our next door neighbor flirted shamelessly
with the firemen while attired in her pajamas
and kimono.
She was very cute, for a 50 something year old.
And what single lady can resist these fellows?
Though we got back in our homes by about 12:45
Abby and I were too wired to sleep.
We made some snacks and watched TV until 2 am.
I was most grateful that it was a minor incident and a
lifetime of emergency preparedness
had truly prepared me to act quickly.
And if you have ever wondered,
the stink from a garbage fire
lingers through the chute for
weeks and weeks and weeks and weeks.
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