So yesterday evening we're sitting out on the balcony and we see two fire engines pull up beside the building at the end of the street. We look at it, concerned, looking for signs of fire or smoke, or speculating about the need for two fire engines. Chemicals, perhaps? While we're discussing this, a woman with her shopping walks past the fire fighters and straight into the building. From this we gathered it was nothing life-threatening.
Luckily, the nearest fire station is only about five doors down from our house. Strictly speaking, they probably didn't need the fire engines at all and could've just walked there.
Then, this morning I was cutting cheese when all of a sudden the knife broke. It was a good quality knife from M&S - no pound shop rubbish - but my block of mature cheddar cheese somehow rended it cleanly near the handle. That came as quite a surprise, I can tell you.
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