A Day to Forget

This unique building rises above The Mission, standing alone, outlined against our blue skies. What is it? A training facility for the SFFD. It is hard, from street level, to get a good enough angle on it to photograph it properly, but I wanted to at least introduce it to you, dear readers from places elsewhere on the planet.

Unlike most of the houses in our city, this building is made of brick. So many of our houses are wooden Victorians, lovingly restored by owners who can sell them for over a million dollars each whenever they wish, even when the market is weak. But that large wooden housing stock is vulnerable to fires, especially in the afternoon, when our winds typically blow in from the Pacific to our west.

I've seen enough of these fires that I am grateful that the SFFD has a training facility, even if it is made of brick.





Meanwhile, not to complain, but today was a miserable Saturday. The kids are all sick or injured or both. Poor Aidan with his sprained wrist in a brace, aching, his shoulder and neck and head hurting, his lips cut and his braces broken from the force of the fall, his temple bruised and his headaches not responding to medication, woke up with the same painful coughing cold that first hit his little sister, and then his little brother.

Neither boy had his normal voice, just deep, raspy croaks, plus occasional fevers, red faces, and a lot of complaints. It's very hard to contain three young, active children in a small apartment all day. That's not a complaint; it's just the truth.

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