Serious stuff here

Many of you know that my husband is a volunteer firefighter.  (If you didn't, you do now. lol )

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For years, we lived with a two way radio "bleating" day and night, because the radio acted like a (police) scanner.  We would hear some or all of the air traffic, police department, sheriff's office, Forest Service (three different forests in three different regions), ambulance crews, and some CB traffic and maybe even some that I've forgotten.

Finally, the firefighters were given pagers that would only go off when activated by the dispatcher.  Ah, bliss.  Peace and quiet.

Well, except when the tone goes off in the middle of the night and scares us right up off of the bed. 

Then.  This past winter, my husband's pager died.  The replacement one quit.  Then someone else's pager started acting up; then another and another and another.  The other day, there was a fire call, and the chief didn't show.  The tone never sounded on his pager.  Pager death epidemic.  (Of course, all the pagers weren't supposed to quit working at the same time, so there isn't money in the budget to replace them.)

Soooo, for the past several weeks we have been back to having "radio chirp" all the time.  This time, it is only the sheriff's office's frequency, but now the sheriff's office now handles the dispatching and/or check-ins for most of the county - again, some airport traffic, city police, some state police, sheriff deputies, and personnel from the Department of Corrections,  local highway maintenance crews, ambulances, Forest Service, Fish and Game, Bureau of Land Management, and of course, the fire departments (and whomever else I've forgotten).

The chatter is constant, but is usually kept businesslike or at least official sounding.  Except one deputy.  He almost always does a sing-song "code four".  Unfortunately, it is irritating and just plain silly sounding.

Most of the time, I'm able to actually sleep through the radio noise, but once in a while something grabs my attention.

In the middle of the night, the night before last, for some reason, the radio traffic woke me up.  The dispatcher was doing routine check-ins. 

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The second check-in was the "Deputy Sing-Song".   Coee ddddde foe ur'  The dispatcher got the giggles.  The next deputy got the giggles.  The DOC officer was giggling.  One person who checked in snorted from trying not to laugh.  The State highway patrolman was laughing out loud.  By the time the dispatcher signed off, she was just about couldn't talk for laughing.

And, I'm lying in bed in the middle of the night shaking with hysterical laughter.

Does This Sound Familiar?

A long boring "Who's on First?" type story that could be called "Inane Conversations that Almost Caused a Full Blown Argument" or "The Trouble One Little Word Can Cause".

First, a little background info so that this tale might make some sense.

A few weeks ago a brush fire started across the road from where my husband often works. In the rush to get to the fire, my firefighter-husband-who-knows-better didn't stop to grab his fire gear out of the car. Not to mention the safety rules he broke, he basically ruined a fairly new pair of $100 shoes and a tore the back out of a good shirt. In a very weak attempt to defend my husband, this fire did need to be jumped on extremely fast because the wind was blowing, and the fire was very near houses and businesses.

Jump to this past Thursday (the day before Halloween) at about 5:15 a.m. Husband, just before leaving for work, says to sleepy wife (me), "I'm staying at your folks' tonight so that I can catch up on some jobs in the area. Also, I have several stops to make after work on Friday, so I'll be home pretty late. I know it is Halloween; sorry I won't be there to help." Me to husband, "That's fine. I'll see you tomorrow night. Watch for rocks and deer. Love you."

Later in the day it dawns on me - my husband has been home to help on Halloween maybe twice? in the past 15 years. The last time he stayed home he complained for days about the interruptions and how he couldn't get any work done. So, of course, I got to wondering why in the world would he even mention that he was sorry for not being home on Halloween. Also, I realized I hadn't asked where he would be stopping nor had he told me.

Jump to five-ish Halloween evening.

By now I'm a little annoyed and concerned. I haven't heard from my husband, and he is out of cell phone range. Then, Mom calls to tell me that just after lunch, my husband had taken one of the fire engines out to a fire. She hadn't seen him, so she figured he was still on the fire. And, at this very same time, trick or treaters start knocking on the door. And, the business phone starts ringing. While trying to keep the dogs quiet, answer the door, and hand out candy, I'm trying to apologize and explain to customers that 'J' was on a fire and that I didn't have a list of his stops so that was why they hadn't been called.

Much later in the evening while children were still trick or treating, J pulls in.
The first thing out of his mouth was, "What do you have fixed for dinner?"
I see a flash of red, but just say, "Leftovers."
He grumbles and says, "I had leftovers last night. Is there enough?"
I come back with, "Yes, and I hope you didn't ruin your new shirt."
My husband said, "No, this time I wore my jacket."

In my husband's fantasy world, a hot meal would have been waiting for him. I would have completely ignored the trick or treaters. I would have known which stops he was going to make, and I would have called those customers. In reality, while answering the door and listening to his fire-war stories and grumbles, I sort of helped warm up his dinner. He insisted that I eat, too, (I really didn't want to) so I reluctly shut off the porch light so we wouldn't be interrupted.

***

Another little tidbit to know is that in our house there is a door between the entry hall and the landing to the upstairs where our bedroom is. My husband always hangs his jackets on the door knobs so that when there is a fire call in the middle of the night he can quickly grab a jacket as he rushes by. (He is a voluteer on three fire departments.)

Jump to this morning.

I was looking at the two jackets on the door knobs and asked, "Which jacket did you have on the fire? I'll need to wash it." (They both looked a little dirty, but not fire-filthy.)
Husband says, "The cloth one." (Hello, they're both cloth - one is nylon, the other cotton drill.)
Me, "Do you mean the bright red one?" (The cotton drill.)
Husband, "Yes."
Me, "It's too clean. I thought you said you wore your jacket. Did you have your fire gear over your jacket? Weren't you too hot?"
Husband, "I had on my fire gear. I had my jacket with me in the truck. I didn't say I wore it."
Me, snottily, "I just asked a simple question."

Lunch time comes and I'm thinking, "Without starting a fight, how do I ask him what he actually wore on the fire?" Ahh, okay.
Me, "Did you wear your fire shirt? Do I need to wash it?" (Yellow fire shirt is worn for wild fires vs. bulky heavy protective clothing used for fighting structure fires.)
Husband, "No, I wore my structure turnouts. I'll need to take them to the dry cleaners one of these first days."

Ahhh, he had on his structure turnout coat. So explains the use of the word jacket.