Quiet Day in ViperVille

We only left the property once yesterday, and our destination was less than a mile away.  Maybe even less than half a mile.  We went to the Lottie Volunteer Fire Station for a full tour.

When we visited last time, Paul was a member of the volunteer fire company -- in addition to his roles as treasurer of their church (right next door to the fire station) and also the treasurer of the cemetery that is at the end of their driveway (Lottie New Home Cemetery).  When they arrived in this area, the residents were so glad to have a new volunteer that they gladly handed over a few jobs.  No one seems to mind that there is now a disproportionate consolidation of power in this household. There are approximately 150 people in this community.  (Martha says of those 150 people, only four vote Democratic, including her and Paul).

By now Paul is the Fire Chief, the third one ever. The first one donated the land for the station and was chief for 16 years before handing over the reins to a family member.  The second chief abdicated after a few years and Paul was next in line by then.  So he had to get proper training and he went through a 160 hour course at the community college.  He and one other member of the fire department have been trained this fully.  Paul says it was much easier when he was the Assistant Fire Chief because then he just jumped on the truck and joined in, but now he is responsible, and that is not as easy.  All the volunteers have radios and when the 911 calls go out, Paul always responds, but not very many others do if it seems minor.

Just the other night he answered a call from someone who thought he was having a heart attack.  Paul took the pickup truck with the medical equipment, did the first responder checkup and helped the man calm down until the ambulance came.  No one else got out of bed for that one.  This is one of the main reasons that Paul is the Fire Chief now -- he shows up. Plus he is a nice guy who doesn't ruffle feathers and really does want the best for everyone...no personal ambition. Plus he is super competent.  

Anyway, this fire station is full of big red trucks. Jon observed that if they got a call that required all 7 trucks, they would not have enough fire fighters to staff them all. He asked Paul how many had ever been out at once, and the answer was four.  The station gets a generous amount of money from the county every year (unlike the schools) so they are well capitalized.  The building is used for many other community purposes as it has a space big enough for meetings and funerals.  It's their common house, complete with giant shiny fire trucks. If they have a really big event, they pull the trucks out of the station and use that space for tables and chairs.

On a walk through part of their 39 acres with two of their three adopted-from-stray dogs.

We spent the afternoon watching the Patriots have a bad day.  I knitted, Martha puttered in the kitchen preparing yet another delicious meal, Jon worked on his computer and Paul made sure our glasses were full while we kept an eye on the game.  We turned it off when it seemed clear that things were only getting worse for New England.

Meanwhile, back in deep snow country all our neighbors spent many hours digging out, successfully. Unfortunately two out of four of our hoophouse structures collapsed overnight.  They were the two oldest ones so that might have contributed to their demise. Alas.