Day 2389: A heater and a Dad Story.

Uncle Les: old photo, collages & digital.

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I borrowed this picture from FB, I wanted to take my own, 

but couldn't find a good place to pull over.

Big Bear Mountain from Newport Beach

With all of our recent rains, our mountains all have snow.

Tustin is 59' today and it's 61' in my house ...

my heater hasn't worked for about three years!

Most of the time I don't need it.

Three years ago I bought a small portable heater fan.

Still unopened in the original box until today.

My hesitance will be explained in today's Dad's story.

Kind of a cute little thing, only 8 x 10"

And it's now plugged in and working. My legs are thawing.

My parents were divorced just before I turned six.

As mentioned earlier, I was in boarding school at age eight.

Every weekend either my Mom or Dad would pick me up for 
the weekend, but I remember so many girls were not that lucky.

One cold weekend I was at my Dad's.

He was in the bathroom shaving and I was reading a book 

on the table, standing too close to a portable floor heater ...

when you stand close it feels so good, then gets too hot?

My dress caught on fire. I yelled for my Dad. 

He looked in and yelled "don't move, don't move, Jack."

I did as he said, and in my memory he flew to me. 

And, with his hands, he patted out the fire.

So clear in my memory, I could still describe the dress. 
He explained later that if I had run, the fire would got to me.

I changed my dress and we went for breakfast.

All in a day for a Dad hero.

A smile for Saturday ...

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