Actually, this will probably NOT turn out to be as bad as it sounds.
But I was awakened by a neighbor pounding on my door, yelling "Fire!" When I opened the door, he said, "Do you know your garage is on fire?"
Um--NO! But I could certainly smell the smoke by that time.
Fortunately, it is a free-standing garage. I don't even use it for my car, which I park on the sidewalk in front of my home. And, also fortunately, I do have homeowner's insurance.
So I provided the community excitement, and got to see an assortment of nightclothes on various neighbors, since all of this occurred just after 3:30 in the morning. I also got the benefit of sirens, two fire engines and an assortment of very cute firefighters. Is there a rule somewhere that firefighters must be young and good-looking?
Now, some ten hours later, I have an alleyway full of melted TV's, soggy mattresses and blackened surplus furniture that was being stored in the garage. Included in that was my deceased father's huge 1983 stereo (those were the days when the bigger the speaker, the better the sound) and his vinyl record collection. I think he owned every Connie Francis album ever made. I was keeping them because I couldn't bear to throw out things that meant so much to my dad. But other than that, I didn't lose anything important to me.
I now have a burned out garage that, maybe, can be salvaged. The building was reroofed two years ago, and appears to still be in shape. All the wood in the walls burned, but the building itself is stucco.
It looks like the cause may be teens smoking in the garage (one of the windows appeared to have been opened).
So I guess you know where Grace will be spending her Monday--on the telephone with insurance agents and appraisers!