Saturday was a day which I had set aside for prayer. A day of quiet and retreat was being given at an Anglican parish under Archbishop Venebles and I, knowing the person giving the meditations, had offered to keep the time when she was doing so in prayer.
Afterwards I had some shopping to do and had hopes of getting the haircut for which I am way past due. But when I went out of the house to clear some trash from the car I discovered that I had a grass fire. I got the hose and connected it and was sure that I had put it completely out at least two times, but it kept starting over and I called for the fire department. It seems they had trouble figuring out just where I was and which fire department to send so I was left to fight the fire alone for over an hour and a half. I suffered two falls, several punctures by thorns and whatever and broke my watch, but at last the firemen arrived and made short shrift of what had now spread quite beyond the reach of my garden hoses.
My cats were sitting on the front porch and the one thought that kept piercing my panic attempts at putting out and controlling the fire was that they would panic and run. But the didn't; they just sat on the front porch and watched the whole thing as if it were some new spectacle that I had arranged for their entertainment. When it was over and done they were very cuddle-some.
And now we have had thunderstorms and snow.