I looked really cute today. A new little knee length A-line skirt with an Italian street scene, all bright and cheery, little pink flats with flowers on top, an embroidered jean jacket. Cute.
As I was leaving school the teachers were teasing me about how I was supposed to stay and sub in the afternoon and I explained that Matthew and Anna were gone, so I had the whole house to myself. They told me to hurry and get home.
I hopped in the car smiling and sang along with the radio some, and thought about 9/11/01, remembering and wondering at the fact that my 6th graders weren't even in school yet.
I pulled into the drive and saw that the trash pile was on fire.
I looked around a little, for someone, because I know that sometimes fires on farms are purposeful, but I couldn't see anyone. I called "the farm" (Marion and Joan) but no one answered and I remembered Marion told me he had to go to Hays. I called Matthew but he didn't answer. I tramped gingerly through the dried knee high weeds to get a peek at the fire. No flames, but lots and lots of smoke and lots of wood to burn and dried weeds and metal and things that scared me.
I tried Matthew again. No answer. I tried to pull the hose over to the fire, but it didn't reach. I decided to go get my watering can. Matthew called back and confirmed that the fire was an accident. The man who is going through the trash pile to take out what he wants and pay us for it was here earlier using a torch, so that must have been what started it. I filled up my flowered watering can 4 times and put out the fire, dirtying my sweet pink shoes and getting weeds all stuck to my cute skirt.
I feel a little bit like a hero.