Hell is paved with good intentions

Today I wanted to make an apple pie, because I found some abandoned cooking apples in our kitchen. They are so sour, nobody wants to use them, not even to make an apple-scented shampoo or something. So I bought some pastry which had to defrost in the sun, near the rusty vice from the back yard.

In the meantime - Dickensian enough - the gas in the house stopped because the gas card needs being topped up. It's like the pre-paid phone cards. You pay - you use. No pay - no pie.

10 minutes earlier I remembered my pastry forgotten in the dark, outside near the rusty good old vice. I had to put it in the fridge again.

This evening's prayer:

Good Lord, give us gas, but make sure it does not come from the Russian pipe. If You can't find any other resources I can do without gas. I could use frozen food and the microwave for my entire life.
Tonight we'll see how it is without central heating: we'll put an extra pullover on. Tomorrow pity us with some gas, but not from Gazprom. Amen.