Curiouser and Curiouser
I have to confess that blogging has become rather difficult of late, mostly because work has been taking up pretty much all my time. Unfortunately, this means the only thing to write about - other than my rampant spending habits last weekend - is the currently frustrating world of work.
Boooooring!
So, last night, I sat down to write something, even if it was only about the impulse purchase of the rather good Spiderwick Chronicles.
Nada. I just wasn't in the mood.
Then I heard the sirens.
Living so close to the local fire station it is inevitable that you will hear sirens at some point and on quite a regular basis, but they rarely come down my road. When the sirens stop at the end of the road, you can be pretty sure they are turning in, which has me leaping to the window like a cat at a goldfish bowl.
The last time they headed into the car park for the flats was to put out a car that had been dumped by joyriders and set alight, so my first thought was that the same had happened again. Nothing.
Instead, they were focusing of one of the other blocks of flats where ... well ... nothing was happening. No fire then, thankfully. So why were they there?
Almost in answer to this, two of the firemen removed a ladder from the truck and placed it at the back of the flats to reach the top floor, where there was another fireman leaning out the window, guiding them to a smaller one on his left. This had to be either the kitchen or the bathroom: mostly likely the bathroom as all the kitchens in these flats have archways.
So, there was a fireman in the flat that couldn't get into this room which meant getting in from outside, meaning something was blocking the door from the inside. An injured person? Was it a body? Or was it as simple as something falling behind the door and locking the occupiers out?
Where were the paramedics? Or the police? Neither of which appeared to have turned up.
After about half-an-hour, everything seemed to have been sorted as the firemen then left. But what had happened?!?!
In an effort to find out, I decided to pop along to the Watford Observer website to see if there was even a short article on it whilst I write this post. Nothing. Nada. Zip. How frustrating!
However, the one thing I did discover was this article: Police station evacuated.
If grenades are being handed in to the local police station* "all the time", perhaps they should consider a grenade amnesty???
* Yes, you read right in the article - assuming you read it - the police station is situated down Shady Lane. Doesn't exactly fill you with confidence, does it?!
Boooooring!
So, last night, I sat down to write something, even if it was only about the impulse purchase of the rather good Spiderwick Chronicles.
Nada. I just wasn't in the mood.
Then I heard the sirens.
Living so close to the local fire station it is inevitable that you will hear sirens at some point and on quite a regular basis, but they rarely come down my road. When the sirens stop at the end of the road, you can be pretty sure they are turning in, which has me leaping to the window like a cat at a goldfish bowl.
The last time they headed into the car park for the flats was to put out a car that had been dumped by joyriders and set alight, so my first thought was that the same had happened again. Nothing.
Instead, they were focusing of one of the other blocks of flats where ... well ... nothing was happening. No fire then, thankfully. So why were they there?
Almost in answer to this, two of the firemen removed a ladder from the truck and placed it at the back of the flats to reach the top floor, where there was another fireman leaning out the window, guiding them to a smaller one on his left. This had to be either the kitchen or the bathroom: mostly likely the bathroom as all the kitchens in these flats have archways.
So, there was a fireman in the flat that couldn't get into this room which meant getting in from outside, meaning something was blocking the door from the inside. An injured person? Was it a body? Or was it as simple as something falling behind the door and locking the occupiers out?
Where were the paramedics? Or the police? Neither of which appeared to have turned up.
After about half-an-hour, everything seemed to have been sorted as the firemen then left. But what had happened?!?!
In an effort to find out, I decided to pop along to the Watford Observer website to see if there was even a short article on it whilst I write this post. Nothing. Nada. Zip. How frustrating!
However, the one thing I did discover was this article: Police station evacuated.
If grenades are being handed in to the local police station* "all the time", perhaps they should consider a grenade amnesty???
* Yes, you read right in the article - assuming you read it - the police station is situated down Shady Lane. Doesn't exactly fill you with confidence, does it?!
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