Tuesday, June 8, 2010


Company is coming for dinner at 6, and I've just noticed that the gas in the tank that powers my oven has run out.
It's 5:45.
The potatoes are in the oven, not quite baked.
The corn is on the stove, cold...

But no fear!
The local Gasul number is programmed into my cell phone.
A quick text, and 15 minutes later I hear a motorcycle pull up in front of our apartment.

The driver hops off and pulls a new tank off of the back of his motorcycle.
Within seconds he's replaced the old tank with a new one,
and we're in business again!

I love the label on the gas canister.

"God's Gift."

"Every good and perfect gift comes down from the Father of lights..."

...even gasul!

1 comment:

Carl G. said...

What a gas!