My heart has always hurt for those who lose a home or their belongings to fire, flood or tornado.
It was Jim's workshop/garage that went up in flames last Sunday, thankfully not our house.
It was a horrifying moment to look out the window and see this, only a half hour after Jim came in from using one of the tractors to 'turn' a strip of the garden.
He always shuts off the gas line after using one of his vintage tractors; we have no idea how the fire started but it was immediately unmanageable.
Car and pickup had been filled with gas on the Thursday, there were three tractors, the zero turn mower, chain saws, all containing gas.
The explosions as the fire enveloped each one were deafening--much as I imagine bombs going off.
My hands shook as I used the landline phone to dial 911; I had trouble stating our address to the dispatcher. It was as though my brain was working very slowly.
The loss of the building, our vehicles, all of Jim's tools and equipment, his tractors, difficult to process.
Family members have been wonderful, driving at speed to arrive here as fire trucks from several local volunteer brigades came roaring in.
Neighbors assembled, I learned later that two of the utility trucks on the scene belonged to the power company and the forestry service respectively--the forestry people because our acreage is surrounded on three sides by wooded ravines.
The wind was blowing, as it has for days, hurling heat and flames toward the house.
As I stood in wordless fear, the wind suddenly changed--and I believe in nothing less than a miraculous intervention.
Our elderly cat, Willis, often naps in the lean-to greenhouse so I feared for him.
After the fire trucks left and the flames died down, he appeared from under the front porch and with great aplomb strolled to the remains of the garage, pausing at each bay to gaze at the wreckage.
I have detailed on Facebook the fire and the tremendous job of cleanup and replacement that is underway.
I find I don't want to write more at present of the ordeal.
We are beyond thankful for the help from family, the kindly outreach of friends and church members.
We have the loan of grandson D's truck; there is the vintage Ram Charger that was safely stored in son H's garage.
Our daughter loaned a car that intimidated me--my Honda CR-V was 13 years old and I never did use all its capabilities--G's Denali has a bewildering array of gadgets [apps?]
The burned out vehicles have gone away.
Jim works a few hours at a time to pile crumpled metal, shovel debris [borrowed shovel and wheelbarrow!] and the cheerful salvage guy will be back this week to start hauling away the mess and pulling down the scorched shell of the building.
We are weary, but we have our home--a bit grubby with tracked in soot--but safe over our heads.
I will remember that I used to drive confidently any vehicle available and can likely manage until we find the right replacement for my car.
Given the price of gas we were already consolidating our errands.
We are over-tired, brain-fogged, we are in the elderly category, but we've never been quitters!
Lord willing, we will get through this unexpected dilemma!
Jim walking stoically past the smoldering remains.
The dismal view on Monday morning.
A replacement tractor located nearby and purchased on Tuesday. A tractor is a necessity!
The vintage Ram Charger delivered by Howard and Shannon.
Matt arrived early Tuesday morning with a Troybilt tiller--and a fresh donut for Jim from the bakery in town.
Yard tools, carpentry tools from Howard's stash.
A lilac has bloomed--its sweet scent on the breeze brings me assurance that the rubble and the sour stench of fire will be cleared away.
