The Fires of Spring

I am so sorry. It's been ages, I'm fully aware. Hoping you guys had a fabulous Easter, I certainly did. A lot's been happening lately.
We got an overall 2 at State Festival, though a mean, misguided judge gave us a 3. Jerk.
My phone is gone, termporarily. The thing is, I'm not exactly sure I want it back at the moment. I don't know why, but I feel a lot more peaceful without a phone. I still love it and all (her name's Lola), and I will get it back eventually, but I'm going to wait. At least for a little while..
Flint caught fire. Literally.
Well, tecnically it wasn't the whole city. But it might as well be.
Has anyone besides me driven down Jane Aveune lately? Picture a battlefield. The amount of houses burned to the ground- nothing but the chimney standing- is devastating. If the person burning houses is reading this, I'm begging you. Please. Please please please. Just stop.
At first, I thought it was the firemen in a form of protest. But then I thought about it for a little while. That wouldn't make sense.
Flint's low on firepeople right now. About half of them (or so it seems) are laid off. Every night there are more fires. It's as though the whole city is getting burned to the ground.
My neighborhood, fortunately, hasn't been touched. But it still kills me to see all the ash. Normally, Summer brings the most fires. Welcome to the fires of Spring.
A few days ago, I went on a field trip with my class to Leaderdogs in Rochester Hills. I want a Leaderdog puppy right now. One to raise. I could do it. I would be pretty good at it, possibly. I'm dying to get one. My mom would oblige, too, I believe. At least, she would from what she said. My brother is more than wanting to. If we convince my dad, the chances are good. If we apply, it'll happen.
We need to put out the fires of Flint. Extinguish the flame of anger and resentment of the people who terrorized Jane Avenue.
I love you guys.
Have a Merry Monday.
Let it Glee.