Burning...Burnaby...Bertram...

On Saturday night the girls had (almost) all the young women in the ward over to play games. It was a little difficult for Benjamin to be excluded (but if he wants to plan a games night with the young men, he's more than welcome to do that). Rachel and Miriam have just felt like the younger young women were in need of some...fellowshipping...so that guided their invite list. 

We had a big storm that evening. 

Phoebe woke up when most of the girls were leaving (and so many other times—she hardly slept that whole night, I feel like, so the night's events were even more of a surprise to Andrew and I, the guardians of the night, who took turns putting her back to bed and putting her back to bed and putting her back to bed).

Anyway, Phoebe woke up when the girls came up to the entry way to put on their shoes. 

"Goodness gracious!" she whispered to me from her bed. "They are going outside right now?! In a thunderstorm!!"

"Well," I explained. "Yes, but only because they're going home. Their moms and dads have come to pick them up so they're just...running from our house to their cars really quick. They're not going out to play."

"Okay, good!" Phoebe said. "Because that would not be safe. 

It was very thundery on Saturday night. And Phoebe, as I mentioned, had an awful time sleeping. 

Getting up for church on Sunday morning was a real drag, especially because I woke up earlier than my alarm when I heard the power shut off. I checked the area to see if there was a power outage, but nothing was mentioned, and soon enough the power came back on. 

We got ready for church and headed out the door. 

Our neighbour texted me just before I went in to primary to tell me that Filthy (Fil) the Clown's house had burned down! She had driven past on her way to mass. 

Evidently, Andrew and his phase of church-goers (the prelude players) had seen firetrucks and things. 

My phase of church-goers (the stragglers) really didn't. Or at least I didn't. My passengers report seeing a few vehicles. 

We drove home that way on our way home from church and were shocked—shocked, shocked, shocked! It was so much worse than I imagined. There's just...nothing left inside. 

Very fortunately the neighbours got out. But...the house is a complete loss. The fire started at the back of the house. I'm not sure what started it, but we did not hear any sirens at all (and, like I said, we were up most of the night). Or perhaps we simply didn't register hearing sirens because we live in a big city near a major thoroughfare so we hear sirens quite often? I don't know. 

We didn't smell any smoke in the morning. We had no clue that anything had gone amiss. 

These pictures are from the fire department:

It's so awful. 

I have this memory of going by to see "The Kings' House" after it burned down when we lived in...Burnaby. What a place name for a story like this! 

In my four-year-old brain I knew everyone from church. If I knew someone...chances are that I knew them from church. Even if I knew for certain that they didn't go to my church, I still somehow assumed that our connection was likely somehow...church. 

The Kings lived in a townhome, I think, like we did at the time. 

And we went by to see their unit just...a smoldering skeleton...

Turns out the Kings were a swim team family (not church friends). 

Who knew? Not me. I was only four. 

But I remember being extra terrified of lightning for a long while after that, so perhaps it was a lightning strike that started that fire as well. I can't say for certain (again...I was four years old). But I remember climbing into bed with my mom and making her talk to me about the magic of lightning rods, which take all that energy from the sky and let it dissipate into the ground without catching the house on fire. I made her explain it to me over and over again (much to her delight at 4:00 in the morning). 

This also started the phase (which lasted for years) where I would pray (my personal, bedtime prayers) with each word in a set of four (because I was four? I don't know—it's a good number) because that amount of effort was sure to make my prayers be extra (extra, extra, extra) well-heard. 

Because...logic.

"Please, please, please, please. Bless, bless, bless, bless. That, that, that, that. Our, our, our, our. House, house, house, house. Won't, won't, won't, won't. Catch, catch, catch, catch. On, on, on, on. Fire, fire, fire, fire..."

I don't pray like that anymore (for the record), but, uh, I imagine that if I were tell you that I have fun issues with anxiety as an adult you would be zero percent surprised after hearing an anecdote like that.

Anyway, it's been a little spooky feeling having a burned-out house so near by (good luck to their neighbours two doors down trying to sell their house right now—like...they had an open house scheduled for Sunday afternoon...I don't know if they had the open house...but like...I imagine...a burned down neighbour is not the best selling point) and I'm sure it will live in my children's brains for years to come. 

Andrew made banana muffins with Phoebe when they came home and she was narrating her work while working through her grief, saying, "Mix, mix, mix...that was my favourite house. Mix, mix, mix...Berfpump* lived there. Mix, mix, mix..."

Berfpump...is Bertram...a plague doctor who replaced Filthy after he started falling apart. I guess I never posted any pictures of him from the fall. Similarly to how we named and created a friendly backstory for Filthy the Clown, we had to name and create a backstory for Bertram to help...habilitate him in the neighbourhood a bit.

Here are some visits with Bertram early in October last year:

And here's Phoebe saying "Berfpump":

Specifically, she's explaining that her wand is magical and she can use it to kill Berfpump. A little violent for my taste...but she's working through her fears nonetheless.

Here's Rachel trying to get Bertram to turn on. He does a lunge thing at the very first, which tended to always make the kids jump. But sometimes they weren't sure whether he was just being difficult to turn on or whether he was not plugged in yet. Anyway...that's Bertram. 

These neighbours were fun to have around (and thank goodness the children were sleeping away from home Saturday night). I don't know if they'll be back in the neighbourhood. The house has to be torn down and rebuilt...so they might just sell the lot.