Fire!We were all in my aunt's kitchen at the back of her huge rambling Victorian house. I was only small and had wandered off to go to the loo, but given up after finding the hall full of smoke. "That was quick," my mum said after a few minutes. "Yes - it's all smoky," I replied.
I've never seen adults move so fast.
So, like my cousin who'd managed to set fire to the roof, tell us your fire stories.
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chthonic, Thu 3 Nov 2005, 9:11)
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fiery grandmamy grandma, god rest her soul, wasn't so keen on the old gits home for the senile that my parents had to put her in after she put an electric kettle on the hob whilst babysitting me and my little sister.
so once in the home, her anarchic antics included slinging a cup of wee at Douglas Hurd on an official visit, playing dead in her bed every morning for a fortnight, only to then sit bolt upright with a deafening scream when the nurse tapped her on the shoulder to see if she was alive, and telling my parents that she was raped 120 times in one week by the care manager (who was plainly gay when you met him).
But the best had to be her deft use of various cosmetics, blanket and chairleg to create a torch that lit her path as she ran through the home at four am one winter's morning. security were forced to let her out lest she burned the place down, and before the police could get hold of her she'd made it down to the beachfront (home was in Swanage) and thrown it through the window of a games arcade.
there was no need to ask granny why she'd thrown the torch into the gambling mecca, for she was quick to provide a justification.
'don't like them places'. and that was all she'd say on the matter.
made the papers and everything.
(, Fri 4 Nov 2005, 14:16, Reply)
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