| We were just burning some thistles out of the garden when whoosh ... little flames leapt through the fence and took off in a roar across our neighbor's field. Barry raked and stomped at the flames while I panicked back and forth across the lawn, spilling water from two plastic pails.
My arms ached, my breathing was erratic and soon my steam ran out. I looked at the black smudges on Barry's heated face, noting the singed hairs and eyelashes. I put down my buckets. "I'm phoning the Fire Department," I said.
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Fire truck at our place: you never think it will happen
(All photos courtesy of the Houston Volunteer Fire Department)
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