Well, it's time to go home . . . .

I really do not have the words to describe the stupidity we witnessed tonight. So let me start from earlier in the day:

It was dead at work (as I knew it would be) and a team had already been sent home by the time MW and I went to lunch. When we came back, our team had been given opportunity to go home as well, and we took it! I called an old friend (RP) on my way home, and he asked if DD and I were going to come over and bug him later that afternoon. I said we might, it depended on how things looked at home when I got there. Well, DD had trashed the kitchen, so I made her clean it up. She also had to do the chores I had asked her to do that morning. I spent a good 2 hours sewing, getting a project almost finished and a couple of items mended. I called RP and said we were on our way. We got there about 7pm (it's 22 miles from door to door) and hung out, watching Trading Places. I had never seen it before so I wasn't familiar with the story. He loves movies but hates explaining them to me so I didn't get much out of it. I sat on the couch and knitted on my sock.

As soon as that was over, we got in the pickup and drove down to Brigham City, where there was supposed to be a decent-sized fireworks show. He stopped at WalMart first to do some shopping, then he decided he was hungry and we went to Winger's. I wasn't hungry, I just had a Diet Coke and knitted on my sock. After that, we wanted to find a good place to watch the fireworks. We didn't want to be actually in town, because we knew the traffic would be insane to try to maneuver. So we started up Sardine Canyon, looking for a side road or a driveway, or something where we could pull in and park to watch. We found a good road (good is a relative term when you're talking about off-roading) and started up it, going higher and higher to get away from all the other outfits up there. We found a good spot and pulled in, but then both RP and DD noticed what looked like a small campfire, getting out of control quickly. RP is as prepared as any Boy Scout, and he started the truck back up and we didn't have time to find our seat belts before he was on his way up the trail. We met a car coming down it, and if we'd had enough presence-of-mind, we'd have blocked its way from going further. There was no tag on the front, and they were going too fast down the hill for me to make out a tag number on the back. Besides, we were also moving quickly up the hill to get to the fire.

We pulled in and I swear he was out of the truck before it was completely stopped, unlocking the tool box in the back to get his shovel. DD and I sat inside, collecting all the bottled water we could find. I had no idea if anyone already on the scene had called it in, so I did. Dispatch informed me there was a truck on the way. As soon as we could see it coming, RP came back and moved the pickup back and away so that the firetruck could get into place and the firemen could do their job. While he was out there, I'd heard a loud bang and saw him jump. I thought it was some sort of firework that had been out in the brush and had been lit by the brush fire. He said no, he was pretty sure it was an unfired bullet that had gone off. "Come to a fire and get shot at!"

The BoxElder County firemen jumped off their truck and pulled their hoses out. RP went and got one of their big shovels and proceeded to put out spots that was further than the hose could reach. A few minutes later a truck from Mantua pulled up (officially making this a two-alarm fire). In the middle of all this, the fireworks show started, and as I wasn't wearing the right kind of shoes I wasn't going to go traipsing around in burning sagebrush. I stood in the bed of the pickup and watched the fireworks. DD decided she wanted to help, so she trotted out after RP. He set her to looking for embers and stomping them out or alerting the firemen if they were too big. She has good eyes, she did a good job. I got out of the pickup and went over to where another family was standing and watching. They said they witnessed the fire start. A guy had lit a small firework and thrown it. It went into the brush instead of the dirt, and started a fire. They said at first he did try to put it out with some bottled water, but then realized it was bigger than that and he got into his car and drove off down the hill as fast as he could. That would be the car that we met on the road.

We hung around awhile longer, talking with the other family there, and watching the rest of the fireworks show. The firetrucks had gone back down to town to get another tankful of water. As soon as they were on their way back up we got into the pickup and left the scene. It was exciting, we had fun! We usually do have fun whenever we're with RP. When we got back to his house, I gave him a hug and a kiss on the cheek, for being a hero. So much I could say here, but I will not, to protect his privacy. However, he knows he is a hero to me for much more than just helping put out a fire tonight.

And for those of you wondering about the title of this post, it's the punchline to a story my dad tells about his father. About 70 years ago, he took all his children out to light off fireworks outside of town. The very last pyrotechnic started a field on fire, and according to my dad, his dad said "well, it's time to go home". It has basically become a family tagline for any situation that requires a hasty exit.