Okay, I'm posting twice in one day.
There's a fire in the fireplace. It's been burning all day long. See, our propane pilot light is not lit, and therefore we don't have any heat in our heater. But we have this amazing fireplace that heats the entire house. So we have had the fire burning night and day. It puts out the toastiest heat, it just makes you want to curl up on the couch and hug a dog. Which I've been doing all day.
The show is going great, the actors fantastic. They know the show and are doing it so well. This means that I can be at home. When I'm directing, I have to be down in town, but when I'm not: I get to be HOME!! So, it's been a week but now here we are. Both dogs are so grateful to be up here. They are asleep on their respective beds. Uli is lounging across hers. She is on the Dillon Dog Bed of Honor. Dillon always slept in his favorite spot in the house, his dog bed (usually in some various state of having been chewed but loved) which always laid in front of the fireplace, nice and toasty. This is where he passed away last year, resting on his bed until his last moments. So this spot is the Dillon Dog Bed of Honor, and Uli has claimed it tonight. Devan is zonked out thoroughly on her bed on the other side of the room. She had a good day of crow chasing and sleeping and she is celebrating by snoring and dreaming of what she'll do tomorrow. I can tell this by the slight twitching of her paws as she dream-runs after her nemisis crows that taunt her from the power poles.
It's a great day today. Cold and crisp. The sky is cloudy and if it were colder, looks to me as if it would snow. The trees are now bare and winter is here. There are so many woodpeckers at the house lately. I think that perhaps they have lost their homes from the fires, and are congregating here on Iron Springs Ranch. They are beautiful with their bright red heads and their Woody namesake attitude. Going to fill the feeders tomorrow, so they have something to peck at. One must stay busy, even if you're a woodpecker.
Sunday, November 25, 2007
Watching It's A Wonderful Life
Our theatre is presenting a 1940's radio version of the movie, It's A Wonderful Life. We all know the movie. I remember the first time I saw the movie. In the olden days, before you could buy the video or dvd or see a movie on television, one of the ways to see an old classic was to catch it at a movie theatre that showed revivals. In San Diego when I was a kid, this theatre was the Ken Cinema in Kensington.
I was a freshman at San Diego State University at the time, and my best friend, Russell and I decided to go see It's a Wonderful Life at Christmas time. Neither of us had actually heard of it before, believe it or not. This was well before the Wonderful Life TV blitz when you could not turn on the TV without seeing it on every channel. So, for me and Russell, this was a new movie.
Here's what I remember: being so totally swept up in the film and all of those beautiful citizens of Bedford Falls that I actually forgot I was at a theatre watching a movie. The people around me disappeared. Russell disappeared. My popcorn disappeared. We had no idea that there was going to be an angel and a redemption of the average man. The existential journey of George Bailey took me totally by surprise. By the time the friends came pouring in, I was as devasted as I had ever been. Total tears. No, not tears. Sobs. Aching, side holding sobbing. The theatre's house lights came up and I was jolted back to my own reality: I was not there in the Bailey living room celebrating lfe and family, but sitting in one of the Ken's famously uncomfortable seats, sobbing and gulping and blinking tears out my dazed eyes. Okay, I was eighteen. I had not had a lot of experiences yet. It's kind of sweet in retrospect.
I turned around realizing where I was, and Russell, who was sitting next to me was far worse than me! Whereas I had started to come back to earth, he was inconsolable. He couldn't get up. He was crying to hard, that we had to wait until the theatre emptied before we could leave. Only now, we are laughing through our crying because we begin to realize that it was, after all, just a movie, you know?
I STILL cry at that movie. The tears seem to come at different things as i get older and life's journey becomes more clear, if it ever actually does become clear. I'll let you know when I get closer towards the curtain call.
In the meantime, the story stirs up thoughts about life choices, career paths, how the smallest connection can be a turning point without your even knowing it. It raises questions about whether we're following a predestined path, or are we wandering blindly forward. Are all of those small turning points lined up for us, or do we change the predestined path everytime we make a choice between two things? Are there infinite predetermined life paths, each completely valid?
The movie makes me cry because it validates all of our choices as long as we recognize the rich value of each person in our life and their contribution to what we are. But it also validates our power over other lives as our contacts with them change their lives too. All of this is so kharmic, isn't it? It just celebrates how interconnected we are all, and that we are not alone in this world. We are surrounded by what we create, so create something you can be proud of.
I didn't mean to get so... blah blah blah with this. I was going to write about working on the story as a play and working with wonderful actors to get all of these feelings to happen live on stage. I never tire of the show, I love to watch the actors take the journey every time they do it. It starts as such a sweet show with it's soda fountains, snow sledding, and its dreams. The darker questions of the story just seems to come up from behind and without realizing it we are suddenly addressing the horrifying notion of non-existence. To be a complete void. No mother. No family. No identity. The actor playing George takes this journey with his whole body and soul every night! I admire him so much for the depth of emotio that he shares in telling George Bailey's story.
It's a beautiful story to touch every now and then. It's a great signpost and reminder to us to remember that our every tiny choice has consequences for us all. It is a wonderful life.
I was a freshman at San Diego State University at the time, and my best friend, Russell and I decided to go see It's a Wonderful Life at Christmas time. Neither of us had actually heard of it before, believe it or not. This was well before the Wonderful Life TV blitz when you could not turn on the TV without seeing it on every channel. So, for me and Russell, this was a new movie.
Here's what I remember: being so totally swept up in the film and all of those beautiful citizens of Bedford Falls that I actually forgot I was at a theatre watching a movie. The people around me disappeared. Russell disappeared. My popcorn disappeared. We had no idea that there was going to be an angel and a redemption of the average man. The existential journey of George Bailey took me totally by surprise. By the time the friends came pouring in, I was as devasted as I had ever been. Total tears. No, not tears. Sobs. Aching, side holding sobbing. The theatre's house lights came up and I was jolted back to my own reality: I was not there in the Bailey living room celebrating lfe and family, but sitting in one of the Ken's famously uncomfortable seats, sobbing and gulping and blinking tears out my dazed eyes. Okay, I was eighteen. I had not had a lot of experiences yet. It's kind of sweet in retrospect.
I turned around realizing where I was, and Russell, who was sitting next to me was far worse than me! Whereas I had started to come back to earth, he was inconsolable. He couldn't get up. He was crying to hard, that we had to wait until the theatre emptied before we could leave. Only now, we are laughing through our crying because we begin to realize that it was, after all, just a movie, you know?
I STILL cry at that movie. The tears seem to come at different things as i get older and life's journey becomes more clear, if it ever actually does become clear. I'll let you know when I get closer towards the curtain call.
In the meantime, the story stirs up thoughts about life choices, career paths, how the smallest connection can be a turning point without your even knowing it. It raises questions about whether we're following a predestined path, or are we wandering blindly forward. Are all of those small turning points lined up for us, or do we change the predestined path everytime we make a choice between two things? Are there infinite predetermined life paths, each completely valid?
The movie makes me cry because it validates all of our choices as long as we recognize the rich value of each person in our life and their contribution to what we are. But it also validates our power over other lives as our contacts with them change their lives too. All of this is so kharmic, isn't it? It just celebrates how interconnected we are all, and that we are not alone in this world. We are surrounded by what we create, so create something you can be proud of.
I didn't mean to get so... blah blah blah with this. I was going to write about working on the story as a play and working with wonderful actors to get all of these feelings to happen live on stage. I never tire of the show, I love to watch the actors take the journey every time they do it. It starts as such a sweet show with it's soda fountains, snow sledding, and its dreams. The darker questions of the story just seems to come up from behind and without realizing it we are suddenly addressing the horrifying notion of non-existence. To be a complete void. No mother. No family. No identity. The actor playing George takes this journey with his whole body and soul every night! I admire him so much for the depth of emotio that he shares in telling George Bailey's story.
It's a beautiful story to touch every now and then. It's a great signpost and reminder to us to remember that our every tiny choice has consequences for us all. It is a wonderful life.
Monday, November 19, 2007
Bill and Sean's Excellent Evacuation
Sunday Night/Monday Morning.
We woke last night about three AM, and Bill saw an email from Grace Delaney talking about "the fires". He looked it up on line, and to our shock, there were fires all over the county. We don't have TV up here and no one called to tell us about it, so we had been out of the loop for two days. Ironically, it's a gorgeous day up here, clear and bright, very very windy, but no indication of what is happening down the mountain. We tried to go back to sleep, and I had a pretty realistic dream that the fire was cresting our ridge and we were in a panic trying to get out, suddenly opened my eyes to discover that it was dawn and that our Autumn colored valley was intact and in fact, not on fire. I started crying with relief, the dream had been that vivid, and we called our fire department. They told us that we were actually in a very safe place on the mountain, at this time and that they were watching intently for any changes, which they would quickly forward to our home. So we dressed, packed up the dogs and went to the ridge of the mountain to get a sense of what was going on down there and you can't believe the sight...The entire county South of us is enveloped in a very thick black cotton of smoke, churning upward into the sky like over boiling oatmeal. We can see the edge of the fire out by Ramona, the wind is blowing it away from us, but unfortunately towards you all. As long as the wind keeps its direction, we are safe, but all are keeping their eyes on those hills. Since all highways are closed, and there is really only one way off the mountain, our safe haven is the Observatory. The fire dept knows we're here, and has our number, so if anything changes, they told us they will be calling.
Email is on and off, but give it a try. We are listening to our little emergency AM radio and keeping up to date with the latest news.
Monday Day
We've been all over the top of the mountain today. We kept going to the rim every two hours or so to check up on the status of what is called the Witch Creek fire. This is the fire that at the moment is closest to us, and it isn't that close. However, it IS close enough to see the flames along the ridge of the mountain on the other side of the large valley between us. There is one pocket that seems to want to grow, but the hard Santa Ana winds are blowing right into itself and keeping it at bay. It is truly windy and we are hoping that they winds continue to blow the fire away from us. Now that it's dark, one can see through the thick smoke that is flowing fairly freely towards the ocean the bright orange crust of the fire's edge. We can see all the way to San Diego and Oceanside and further from the mountain top, and the glitter of the different cities along the ocean are diffused by a thin grey smoke.
We talked with the Fire Department here, and they recommend we stay put. We met our only neighbor (for the first time actually!). They live across the way from us, both of our properties towards the Observatory. They are from old stock Palomar settlers. Literally. Their families were some of the first to settle the mountain, and there are valleys named after them. They have seen this before and agreed with the FD, that the Observatory is the best and safest for us. They are equipped for this up here. So we spent the afternoon packing important papers, invaluable family documents and photos, some clothes and lots of dog treats (hard to explain to the girls what is going on, you know? They are very quiet and not too far from our feet at any given time. Oh, they know.) The car is packed save for blankets and family quilts. Should we need to get up the hill to the Observatory later tonight, we grab the blankets, shove the cat in her carrier and get thee on up the hill.
But as our neighbor so calmly said to my rather transparent banter covering sheer "what do we do now!!!", we are in the safest place in San Diego with the best air to breathe. Until that changes, why run down the mountain helter skelter. So stay we do. He told us that he would call us at our home if they decide that they are getting out, so I told him thank you and hopefully we won't hear from him tonight. He laughed.
4am This Morning (Actually written this morning after we got down to SD)
There is much to update, and yet much that I can't tell you.
This morning at 4am, we got a call from our neighbor, Sharon, who told us that a new fire had erupted at the base of the mountain, and that they were evacuating immediately. She said it was not close yet, and that everyone was still calm, but that the time to get out was now. We had packed the car earlier in the day, so it was a matter of putting the blankets and pillows and family quilts in the car, load up the precious cargo: the dogs, who were calm and very very good and stuff the cat in the carrier and get to the Observatory.
When we got there it was about 4:15am, and we met a lot of the mountain folk and the fire department guys and we were told that the East Grade and 79 north were open and clear. We decided not to stay at the Observatory but to get down the mountain. We got to the rim of the mountain and where there had been a fire, it seemed smaller, but to our collective gasp, there was a huge orange plume at the base of our beloved mountain and the black black black night sky was illumined with orange and a huge column of churning smoke. We got down the mountain, trying to manage the windy road and see the fires all over the county below us. We got down to 76 and took it to the back country, and headed out north towards the desert. We drove far out into Anza Borrego Desert. The power was out and it was blacker than black out there. We drove all morning and could see the orange glow on the other side of the mountain that we had just left. We got into Temecula, went to the bank, walked the dogs and decided to go down 15 which had been closed off and on all day the day prior.
it was dawn and as the sun was coming up through the surreal smoke, the freeway was thick with smoke, as if driving through a fireplace. There were fires along both sides of the freeway. There were large curtains of fire climbing up a large hill near Lake Hodges, burnt out homes lined both sides of the freeway through Rancho Bernardo. then the smoke cleared as we got into downtown. We went to our little guest house where our friends manny, melissa and their little girl were staying after they had been evacuated from their home. Showered and brought the dogs and cat to the theatre office and rehearsal space.
We are safe here. the dogs are sleeping at my feet, and the cat is hiding somewhere in the building but safe.
Once we became safe, I started crying and shaking. We were so calm, so sure, so doing what we needed to do without any unneeded emotions. now that we're safe, the lie has caught up to me.
The radio says that the fire has gotten a hold on the mountain, and the entire mountain has been evacuated. it's burned 3,000 acres of it so far. let's keep hoping that our little corner isn't included in that. We are on the very top top, and inland from that that, but what will be, will be. I just hope to sleep in my dear little house again.
Best not to call the cell right now, they say. but call it anyway.
We are now just watching the fire on the mountain and hope it doesn't get up to the top. It was pretty orange this morning. Listening to the radio all day. As much as i HATE Roger Hedgecock, his is really great doing the updates on the radio and yesterday, it would have been scarier without our little AM battery operated radio and Old Roger all day long with updates.
We woke last night about three AM, and Bill saw an email from Grace Delaney talking about "the fires". He looked it up on line, and to our shock, there were fires all over the county. We don't have TV up here and no one called to tell us about it, so we had been out of the loop for two days. Ironically, it's a gorgeous day up here, clear and bright, very very windy, but no indication of what is happening down the mountain. We tried to go back to sleep, and I had a pretty realistic dream that the fire was cresting our ridge and we were in a panic trying to get out, suddenly opened my eyes to discover that it was dawn and that our Autumn colored valley was intact and in fact, not on fire. I started crying with relief, the dream had been that vivid, and we called our fire department. They told us that we were actually in a very safe place on the mountain, at this time and that they were watching intently for any changes, which they would quickly forward to our home. So we dressed, packed up the dogs and went to the ridge of the mountain to get a sense of what was going on down there and you can't believe the sight...The entire county South of us is enveloped in a very thick black cotton of smoke, churning upward into the sky like over boiling oatmeal. We can see the edge of the fire out by Ramona, the wind is blowing it away from us, but unfortunately towards you all. As long as the wind keeps its direction, we are safe, but all are keeping their eyes on those hills. Since all highways are closed, and there is really only one way off the mountain, our safe haven is the Observatory. The fire dept knows we're here, and has our number, so if anything changes, they told us they will be calling.
Email is on and off, but give it a try. We are listening to our little emergency AM radio and keeping up to date with the latest news.
Monday Day
We've been all over the top of the mountain today. We kept going to the rim every two hours or so to check up on the status of what is called the Witch Creek fire. This is the fire that at the moment is closest to us, and it isn't that close. However, it IS close enough to see the flames along the ridge of the mountain on the other side of the large valley between us. There is one pocket that seems to want to grow, but the hard Santa Ana winds are blowing right into itself and keeping it at bay. It is truly windy and we are hoping that they winds continue to blow the fire away from us. Now that it's dark, one can see through the thick smoke that is flowing fairly freely towards the ocean the bright orange crust of the fire's edge. We can see all the way to San Diego and Oceanside and further from the mountain top, and the glitter of the different cities along the ocean are diffused by a thin grey smoke.
We talked with the Fire Department here, and they recommend we stay put. We met our only neighbor (for the first time actually!). They live across the way from us, both of our properties towards the Observatory. They are from old stock Palomar settlers. Literally. Their families were some of the first to settle the mountain, and there are valleys named after them. They have seen this before and agreed with the FD, that the Observatory is the best and safest for us. They are equipped for this up here. So we spent the afternoon packing important papers, invaluable family documents and photos, some clothes and lots of dog treats (hard to explain to the girls what is going on, you know? They are very quiet and not too far from our feet at any given time. Oh, they know.) The car is packed save for blankets and family quilts. Should we need to get up the hill to the Observatory later tonight, we grab the blankets, shove the cat in her carrier and get thee on up the hill.
But as our neighbor so calmly said to my rather transparent banter covering sheer "what do we do now!!!", we are in the safest place in San Diego with the best air to breathe. Until that changes, why run down the mountain helter skelter. So stay we do. He told us that he would call us at our home if they decide that they are getting out, so I told him thank you and hopefully we won't hear from him tonight. He laughed.
4am This Morning (Actually written this morning after we got down to SD)
There is much to update, and yet much that I can't tell you.
This morning at 4am, we got a call from our neighbor, Sharon, who told us that a new fire had erupted at the base of the mountain, and that they were evacuating immediately. She said it was not close yet, and that everyone was still calm, but that the time to get out was now. We had packed the car earlier in the day, so it was a matter of putting the blankets and pillows and family quilts in the car, load up the precious cargo: the dogs, who were calm and very very good and stuff the cat in the carrier and get to the Observatory.
When we got there it was about 4:15am, and we met a lot of the mountain folk and the fire department guys and we were told that the East Grade and 79 north were open and clear. We decided not to stay at the Observatory but to get down the mountain. We got to the rim of the mountain and where there had been a fire, it seemed smaller, but to our collective gasp, there was a huge orange plume at the base of our beloved mountain and the black black black night sky was illumined with orange and a huge column of churning smoke. We got down the mountain, trying to manage the windy road and see the fires all over the county below us. We got down to 76 and took it to the back country, and headed out north towards the desert. We drove far out into Anza Borrego Desert. The power was out and it was blacker than black out there. We drove all morning and could see the orange glow on the other side of the mountain that we had just left. We got into Temecula, went to the bank, walked the dogs and decided to go down 15 which had been closed off and on all day the day prior.
it was dawn and as the sun was coming up through the surreal smoke, the freeway was thick with smoke, as if driving through a fireplace. There were fires along both sides of the freeway. There were large curtains of fire climbing up a large hill near Lake Hodges, burnt out homes lined both sides of the freeway through Rancho Bernardo. then the smoke cleared as we got into downtown. We went to our little guest house where our friends manny, melissa and their little girl were staying after they had been evacuated from their home. Showered and brought the dogs and cat to the theatre office and rehearsal space.
We are safe here. the dogs are sleeping at my feet, and the cat is hiding somewhere in the building but safe.
Once we became safe, I started crying and shaking. We were so calm, so sure, so doing what we needed to do without any unneeded emotions. now that we're safe, the lie has caught up to me.
The radio says that the fire has gotten a hold on the mountain, and the entire mountain has been evacuated. it's burned 3,000 acres of it so far. let's keep hoping that our little corner isn't included in that. We are on the very top top, and inland from that that, but what will be, will be. I just hope to sleep in my dear little house again.
Best not to call the cell right now, they say. but call it anyway.
We are now just watching the fire on the mountain and hope it doesn't get up to the top. It was pretty orange this morning. Listening to the radio all day. As much as i HATE Roger Hedgecock, his is really great doing the updates on the radio and yesterday, it would have been scarier without our little AM battery operated radio and Old Roger all day long with updates.
Dodging the Poomacha Fire bullet
We are home.
Wednesday we got the word that the roads were opened to residents and we packed up and headed up the mountain. The road up is very sad. The mountain burned a lot of the Pauma Valley, some lost homes, lost avocado groves and beautiful oaks blackened. But the road UP the mountain is worse. There are whole long stretches of burnt forest and as you get to the top, the fire damage is very bad. Some lost homes along the way. It is heart breaking to see the trees so damaged. There were leaves on them, miraculously, and perhaps they will survive, but it will be several years before it starts to look recovered.
The smoke was pretty hazy, and you could see smoke rising from some of the deeper valleys up the mountainside, and at night these areas still glowed that orange glow that i'll never forget. But when we got to the top of the mountain, the fire had been essentially contained on the south side of the road and almost everything on top seemed to be untouched. Not just untouched, but not too smoky, no ash, just normal. We had no power and our well wasn't working because of it, so we had no water. As Bill lit our oil lamps and, ironically, started a fire in the fire place to warm our house, I went to the rescue center where I was greeted with such kindness. They had everything one could want. All i brought home was two large containers of water, two flashlights, and some apple pie. But, had I wanted it, there was Marsala and rice, baked ham and apples, and some vegetarian lasagne, more cakes and pies, and every conceivable granola and power bar. There was clean underwear, towels, wash clothes, ice, milk, chocolate milk, water, Gatorade. Since we had a grill we brought up some food for the night, but there are those up here that had nothing and this was a welcomed sight.
We emptied the refrigerator of all the spoiled food, and took it to the collection center. Once done, we began cooking our homecoming meal, and enjoyed many a bottle of wine as all of us (including the dogs) bundled up and basked in being home. Suddenly at 9pm the power came on. Since I had left our lights on before we evacuated (in my mind, to help the fire fighters know we were back here) the room became ablaze with light and the fridge and such began their silent humming. We had only planned on coming up for one night, as there was no power or hot water, but this changed out plans considerably. We later found out that the power is not on, the mountain emergency generator is providing power until SDGE can get it repaired, still estimated for the 11th. We came back down the next morning and saw the mountain in the day light. i'll attach a photo or two. We had a meeting downtown to attend. After the meeting we had planned on staying down again, but we were so depressed to leave after having just had a taste of home, so we headed back up the mountain and i've been here since. Today I have to trek down for a rehearsal, but back up this afternoon.
It is fall, the leaves are golden, the sunrise through these golden leaves are unfathomably beautiful. The sky is pure blue and there is not a sign of the fire that is still burning to the north of us. The mountain top has hundreds of firefighters up here, still battling the blaze and attending these hot spots. There is a Santa Ana predicted for this weekend,, and all are on alert. But no sign of it now.
Things feel back to normal. I have some pretty disturbing dreams, but that is about all of the residue for me at this time. And Uli raced out of the car the first night back, sped up the hill and, yes, she got skunked ROYALLY. We knew from her crazy barking up there what had happened, and yes, indeed, it did. We took some of our emergency water, boiled it to get it warm, and made our baking soda and Dawn dish washing liquid stew and had her bath ready for her on the deck, in the dark. Yes, we are back to normal.
Thank you for all of your concerns for us, and the many many kind offers to house or help us out. We were blessed to have a place to go, and that our home and property survived. My heart goes out to those who didn't fare so well.
Wednesday we got the word that the roads were opened to residents and we packed up and headed up the mountain. The road up is very sad. The mountain burned a lot of the Pauma Valley, some lost homes, lost avocado groves and beautiful oaks blackened. But the road UP the mountain is worse. There are whole long stretches of burnt forest and as you get to the top, the fire damage is very bad. Some lost homes along the way. It is heart breaking to see the trees so damaged. There were leaves on them, miraculously, and perhaps they will survive, but it will be several years before it starts to look recovered.
The smoke was pretty hazy, and you could see smoke rising from some of the deeper valleys up the mountainside, and at night these areas still glowed that orange glow that i'll never forget. But when we got to the top of the mountain, the fire had been essentially contained on the south side of the road and almost everything on top seemed to be untouched. Not just untouched, but not too smoky, no ash, just normal. We had no power and our well wasn't working because of it, so we had no water. As Bill lit our oil lamps and, ironically, started a fire in the fire place to warm our house, I went to the rescue center where I was greeted with such kindness. They had everything one could want. All i brought home was two large containers of water, two flashlights, and some apple pie. But, had I wanted it, there was Marsala and rice, baked ham and apples, and some vegetarian lasagne, more cakes and pies, and every conceivable granola and power bar. There was clean underwear, towels, wash clothes, ice, milk, chocolate milk, water, Gatorade. Since we had a grill we brought up some food for the night, but there are those up here that had nothing and this was a welcomed sight.
We emptied the refrigerator of all the spoiled food, and took it to the collection center. Once done, we began cooking our homecoming meal, and enjoyed many a bottle of wine as all of us (including the dogs) bundled up and basked in being home. Suddenly at 9pm the power came on. Since I had left our lights on before we evacuated (in my mind, to help the fire fighters know we were back here) the room became ablaze with light and the fridge and such began their silent humming. We had only planned on coming up for one night, as there was no power or hot water, but this changed out plans considerably. We later found out that the power is not on, the mountain emergency generator is providing power until SDGE can get it repaired, still estimated for the 11th. We came back down the next morning and saw the mountain in the day light. i'll attach a photo or two. We had a meeting downtown to attend. After the meeting we had planned on staying down again, but we were so depressed to leave after having just had a taste of home, so we headed back up the mountain and i've been here since. Today I have to trek down for a rehearsal, but back up this afternoon.
It is fall, the leaves are golden, the sunrise through these golden leaves are unfathomably beautiful. The sky is pure blue and there is not a sign of the fire that is still burning to the north of us. The mountain top has hundreds of firefighters up here, still battling the blaze and attending these hot spots. There is a Santa Ana predicted for this weekend,, and all are on alert. But no sign of it now.
Things feel back to normal. I have some pretty disturbing dreams, but that is about all of the residue for me at this time. And Uli raced out of the car the first night back, sped up the hill and, yes, she got skunked ROYALLY. We knew from her crazy barking up there what had happened, and yes, indeed, it did. We took some of our emergency water, boiled it to get it warm, and made our baking soda and Dawn dish washing liquid stew and had her bath ready for her on the deck, in the dark. Yes, we are back to normal.
Thank you for all of your concerns for us, and the many many kind offers to house or help us out. We were blessed to have a place to go, and that our home and property survived. My heart goes out to those who didn't fare so well.
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