What is it with men in firefighting uniforms? Seriously. Oh my god. It has to be some twisted wacko biological imperative. Long-forgotten cave dwelling Quest For Fire genes are somehow aroused from a millenia of slumber, distorted by the lens of time (?) and the endless shifting sands of ... what? Sorry. Gary had to go on a callout last night and came home wearing his full Level 2 kit and oh my god. The sick thing is that the uniform makes you want to take it off if you know what I mean, and then you want it back on because it's so exciting but that just makes you want to get it off him again and... I know, it's wrong, just wrong. But, like, WOW, how lucky am I? Gloat gloat gloat
Anyway, we were sitting out on the verandah about ten o'clock pm watching giant weirdo insects trying to get into the house when there was the sudden whoop of a siren in the driveway - Gary's phone wasn't working, so Cam and the guys had just driven straight to my place in the 4WD fire vehicle, lights flashing. Gary leaped over the fence & they took off. Turns out some idiot up the back of town had lit a fire in his back yard (during a week of total fire ban) which was burning grass etc. It was all under control pretty quickly so fortunately I was still up when Gaz got back.
Because of all the rain earlier this year, there is so much grass which is now drying out into a tinderbox. Already there have been bush fires out Yalgoo way; we're just waiting for our turn. It's not such a problem in town, but the outlying stations and prospector's huts could be in trouble if a fire starts. It will be mostly fast grassfires rather than the burning inferno we get around Melbourne with all the trees. As a trainee, I'll be learning to run hoses and do comms relays between the firefighters and the trucks, while Gary hacks his way into burning houses, his handsomely uniformed figure silhouetted against the torrid flames, his firm uniformed thighs flexing powerfully as he ---
Ahem. Better go have a cold shower.
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