We had a bit of excitement around here today. Not too much excitement. Not the kind that changes your life or anything. Just enough to give you something to talk about later. See, I told you we live by a river. And it's not a really good river. It's brushy and scrubby down there. Lots of dry grass and those awful fox-tails that you have to pick out of your socks after you've been walking down there. Not the kind of place you'd want to go take a picnic and skip rocks or anything. Plus, it has a ton of cottonwood trees that are all blooming right now, sending tufts of cotton all over the neighborhood. So, it's early afternoon and the boys are outside playing catch and Bubba comes in and says, "Mom, there's a fire. I saw ashes in the air." Of course I said, "No, honey. It's from the cottonwoods." "Yeah, but the cottonwood stuff is white, the stuff I saw was black." Then he went back outside. A little while later both boys come racing inside, "Mom, Mom, there's a fire. A house is on fire. Mrs. J (our neighbor) called 9-1-1." Well, by then I felt there was a little more credibility to the story. I went out to the back yard and saw that yes, there was indeed smoke billowing from the river, but it didn't look to me like any house was on fire. I was just about to tell the kids that, when Bubba goes running out the front door screaming at the top of his lungs, "Fire! Fire! Fire!!!!!" And I'm just standing there thinking, "Oh my word, what is this child thinking?" So, I bring him back in and give him the old, "Is this helpful?" lecture, with a reminder that in situations like this we are calm. I went out front to see if I could find Mrs. J and in a few minutes a couple firetrucks come barreling down the street and then Mr. & Mrs. J came back to their house. I guess they'd gone down to the river to see what was going on after calling 9-1-1. So, yes, indeed, there was a brush fire. It was on its way to raging, but it hadn't gotten there yet. I let the kids stay at the end of the street to watch what was going on while I went to get the little girls ready for the baseball game. By the time we left there were 4 trucks and the fire chief at the scene. But, I knew they'd have it under control. And on the way to the baseball game Bubba says to me, "Mom, you know how I know there was a fire? I smelled smoke, I saw the ashes and I heard Mrs. J say, 'There's a fire. Call 9-1-1'". I guess it's always good to have confirmation like that. Can't always rely on your senses!