inferno 5 May 2009
We had high drama in the village last night – a house by the square burned down. It was perilously close to utter tragedy but luckily the man who lives there was out with his dogs when it started and no one was hurt and it was stopped before it spread throughout. The village is little more than a green surrounded by thatched houses and it was one of these that caught fire. There were 12 fire tenders fighting the blaze at one stage and of course the worry was that the sparks would catch in other rooves*, including our own, so we were prepared to evacuate if necessary. In the end the brave firefighters (such heroes) brought the inferno under control. Today there is nothing left of the house but a section of one wall and a bit of chimney – there are still smoulders of smoke rising from the ruin. I went to bed when we knew the worst was over but I hear that Miss Sue Johnston invited all of the firefighters and assorted emergency personnel back to the inn where we’re billetted and served teas and coffees well into the night.
I haven’t had much to do with fire in my lifetime, aside from the domestic blaze of a winter’s evening, though I remember my Dad’s place of work burning down, when we were kids growing up in Galway, and the whole town turned out to watch it. Other than that we had a chimney fire once, which was really frightening, and the brigade came screaming down the road sirens blaring and I remember being half way between awe and utter embarrassment that they coming to our house.
*is this the plural for roof? It looks odd but I THINK it’s right??
