Last evening, while knitting in front of the TV as I always do, bedroom window open (that’s where my TV is located), I became aware of the smell of smoke. Not sure of the wind direction – could it have been smoke from the Quebec out of control forest fires?

In any case, I thought about a couple of weeks back and the fires in my backyard – the day the Tantallon fire began I was able to see smoke from our apartment building (that night neighbours on the other side of my building could see flames above the trees); the fire was close – no serious danger that it would come closer to us here, but a very real presence none the less for many days. I had friends who had to flee that fire and the Bedford fire as well.

The notion of “being prepared” was something everybody locally had on their minds. What do you take with you if you have fifteen minutes to leave here quickly? How do you even get out if you have to feed into a single exiting road with hundreds (maybe thousands) of other people also trying to get to safety and traffic at a standstill?

Daphne Calhoun, my massage therapist, wrote in her recent newsletter a summation of what I was considering myself.

Pretty much my list – except for the fire extinguishers (we have hard-wired smoke detectors with a sprinkler system in the apartment building, although a fold-up fire ladder might be worth considering if I could find one six stories long) and the cats. I’d already done what Daphne was organizing – my important documents are digital, I’ve got photos of the rooms in my apartment showing what I own, my contacts list is on my phone and backed up to the cloud, my emergency medical information is on both backup hard drives.

While I didn’t actually pack a bag I knew I would grab my passport, make sure I had my iPhone case (which has my health card, driver’s licence, car insurance papers, etc.) with me. Grabbing a few changes of clothes, my medications, a couple of cosmetics, toothbrush wouldn’t take long (my suitcases are in the apartment storage space, not in the garage six floors below).

Was there anything else I’d want to take? My computer backup hard drives (both of which are the size of my iPhone) – not the computer – that can be replaced, the information on it would be useful to have even if the critical stuff is already stored in the cloud and accessible. I have a gazillion password stored in a password manager on my phone – didn’t need a paper copy. Family photos? On the backup drives. My will is in the safe deposit box at the bank with the insurance papers (and my insurance agent has that information, anyway).

Art work? If I can’t get out by car because traffic is going nowhere and I have to start walking – a small bag on wheels and a backpack is all I’m likely to manage. I thought about my impending art show in Parrsboro – if at all possible, I would have taken the large suitcase already filled with those quilts and wall art pieces. I’d certainly have packed them in the car (at least that much of my art work might have been salvaged), but the rest of the art I own (and there’s quite a bit on my walls) I’d have to abandon.

That’s about it. I was mentally prepared to walk away from everything I couldn’t easily transport on foot. If necessary, what’s important can be packed in a carry-on bag and a backpack. The rest, as George Carlin says, is “Stuff!”