Of chic refugees and Dirty Sooty Mammas!

So we had a fire in the hood last night. We were just about to turn in when our neighbour called to say: Look out your kitchen window. We did and saw this ball of fire looking like it was heading straight for our area.The fire engines started arriving and people started milling about in all their barbaric nocturnal splendour… and I thought I looked a sight in my pj’s sans make-up, sans ghd!! Talking about ghd… why are grey hairs so stubborn? Mine are like pubes almost… every hair around it will be dead straight and well-behaved but that grey hair is much like a toddler discovering it’s powers and pushing boundaries! All crooked and coarse and on it’s own mission! Anyway back to the fire. So word starts spreading that houses further up the drag will be evacuated. Well! Nothing like the word evacuation to get adults scurrying. The mommies were gathering all the necessary baby paraphernalia and other essentials (a stack of love letters from that guy at varsity, all the birthday cards ever received, the boxes my engagement, wedding and maternity (my husband reckons it should be called a maternity not eternity ring – as I started drooling about eternity rings the second I heard I was preggers) rings came in, my wedding frock, all the knitted baby stuff I received from family and friends, etc.). The daddies of course were in their garages trying to stash their golf clubs under the babies’ prams in the boot and getting other essentials too (all the bar paraphernalia they’ve received and collected, their Kellerman books, the expensive bottles of booze that they were saving for graduations, weddings and holes-in-one and other such stuff). Must admit our efforts at packing was rather half-hearted as we didn’t expect the fire to reach us. Once we saw the lines of cars heading out of the area and heard that people were being evacuated to the Good Hope Centre, we started feeling anxious. Another aside here… I have always ONLY had white bedding. I cannot sleep in florals and colourful bedding. Yup, even with a toddler with icky, sticky hands and leaky nappies – I have stuck to my guns and made my white bedding the last bit of me that I will not let go the same way my boobs, tummy, hair, nails, shaving legs, etc has gone. So people start whispering that we might be next to go to the Good Hope Centre. The first thought that entered my mind was that I was going to be a refugee. Secondly was that I was going to have to sleep under those icky, coarse, grey blankets the removals people use to protect your furniture and breakables. It was then that I ran to the front passage where we had put all our “stuff we can’t do without/replace” things and chucked the letters, birthday cards, empty ring boxes, wedding frock and knitted baby stuff and replaced it with….. MY GRANNY GOOSE 100% GOOSE BOX-STITCHED DUVET! If I was going to be homeless and live in a refugee camp, I was going to do it in style darn it! No coarse steelwool-like blankies for me thank you very much! And just in case they fed us some watery soup, I packed one of those really cool and pretty woolies cooler bags with crackers, duetto dolce cheese, grapes, breakfast cereal, milk and chicken nuggets and veggies for the Seal and a bottle of bubbly to make us feel better when the news comes that our home is just a heap of ash! By the time it was clear that the fire was not coming our way, it had turned up the montain and we were safe, our folks had already been called to tell them where our wills were. They knew who had custody of Thomas in case we didn’t make it out. They knew where our money was stashed and who to talk to get it out and most importantly of all, I finally told my sister she could have all the things she’s always told me to leave for her. So we weren’t going to lose our houses and the babies and daddies were safely in the houses, so the mommies started chatting about what we wanted to save and what an eye-opener this was… we drove to where most of the firefighters were recharging and taking a breather and gave them whatever liquids we were able to take from our fridges… Firemen “Fred and Ken” were very gracious about being given Barney and Spiderman juices to drink but I reckon they would’ve taken ‘wee’ if it was being offered! I noticed something disturbing as we were hydrating the firemen… some of the mommies were ‘coming over all queer’. It took me a while to notice that the age old man in uniform cliche was playing itself out right in front of my eyes! I whispered in a few ears that I thought they were acting like teenagers but my voice of reason fell on deaf ears. I decided to stroll home as there was so much activity and left the Dirty Sooty Mammas with Firemen “Fred and Ken”. When I got home and told my husband about the Dirty Sooty Mammas he gave me the glad eye… Needless to say, the Seal woke from his slumber and I went to shower and poor husband could only dream of a Dirty Sooty Mamma!


7 thoughts on “Of chic refugees and Dirty Sooty Mammas!

  1. deids13

    You have a lovely way with words- I enjoyed reading that! So glad you and your family are safe and your house isn’t a big heap of ash.

  2. shazdart

    Very pleased to hear that you managed to survive!!! Your sense of humour and way with words is great, just what I needed this morning……Thank you.

  3. rochelle.barrish

    Oh and one VERY important thing I meant to add here is: PLEASE GO TO ROELAND STREET FIRESTATION (or your nearest one) AND GIVE THE FIREMEN SOME JUICE! They’re thirsty… even Barney and Spiderman juices will do – even if you’re not a Dirty Sooty Mamma!


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