Sunday.
Though really, one day melds into another and into another. I get points for knowing that it was Sunday when I woke up. Half the time, I’m not sure what day it is!
It’s another beautiful day though we’ve had high temps and humidity for the past few days. The mornings, on the other hand, are quite beautiful and to prove that point, I’m blogging from the porch this morning. I hear cicadas and birds and the sound of the creek that is just across the street. Now a crow has joined in and some crickets. I’m reminding myself that these morning sounds will fade away as winter draws near, so I want to imprint them on my memory.
I’ve started the new James Lee Burke. Heavens, he’s a gifted writer. Right from the start, I’m plunged into the world of Louisiana and bayous and fish and heavy, humid air. Burke has a language all his own and I’ve called him a poet from the very first time I read one of his novels. I don’t know what number this one is, but I am forever a devoted fan.
Lest you think it’s perfectly idyllic here, the sound of a motorcycle tricked out to make the loudest sound possible just assailed my ears while sitting on the glider. Motorcyclists love this road because it’s long and fairly straight with big stretches of open road between stop lights. They get going at the light down on the corner and rev it up as they drive by our cottage.
Not a fan. I’ve been known to make a gesture or two.
Today? I might force myself to clean the bathroom. I will definitely launder the sheets. I’ll read. I’ll look at my current miniature project and maybe do something. Or not. I will definitely make a list of all the minis I have marked as favorites on Etsy and eBay, along with the building materials and wallpaper I need and I will prioritize each item. I have to make a plan that fits my budget in order of what is needed first. I tend to want to buy the pretty decor items right away, but I can’t work that way this time out. Wallpaper, stain for the floors, window inserts and ceiling beams are first up.
My view.
Prayers for every living being, for homes, for firefighters, as wildfires rage in California and other states. My childhood friend had to evacuate several days ago and is still waiting out the fire. As of yesterday, his home was safe, but it’s still very much in danger. He was my first crush, by the way.
Stay safe.
Happy Sunday.
Prayers…prayers…
Indeed!
Stay safe, Brenda.
Prayers for every human and animal is exactly what I prayed for last night. Trying not to watch too much news yesterday we watched Savage (something or other, sorry we forgot the second word). It was beautiful footage but presented in a way that my husband asked if I wanted to watch something else. We love to watch all the Zoo shows especially the Tampa Zoo show since we have visited it twice in the last few years. We ended the night with stand up! Have a good day!
Laughter is always the best way to end the day, Cindy.
Stay safe!
Hi Claudia, here in Lake County California the fire is right behind us. We have been put on a evacuation warning as of yesterday. We packed up everything that was important to us. At least this time around we were able to do this. I surely hope we do not lose our home again to another fire. Fingers crossed! xo
Oh, April, sending prayers for your safety and the safety of your home. I cannot imagine how frightening this must be for you – for everyone. Thinking of you, my friend.
Stay safe.
Have been saying prayers for everyone in CA. I can’t even begin to imagine the fear that you must be going thru. Hope that your home is spared. Take care of yourself April.
hej, april …
prayers for safety for you, your family, neighbors, the firefighters, all the creatures and everything else that is at risk. hoping and praying for you all to get good news soon!
stay safe in every way.
kathy in iowa
April, you have my every prayer. I’m a fellow Californian and I know what it is to pack up a car…and wait.
Same weather here in IL right now – hot and humid. We’re supposed to be in the 90’s through this week, then it will finally drop back down into the 70’s. We desperately need rain. We are so dry. Our grass is so brown and crisp, we haven’t had to mow in almost three weeks.
My son lives right outside LA. He’s flying back home in a few days to stand up in a wedding. I hope it’ll be safe for him to fly back home! These fires are scary and heartbreaking.
We live on a quiet residential street, but a stone’s throw away is a fairly busy straight stretch of road that runs between two main roads. Like you described, the motorcycles (particularly Harleys) love to rev it up down this road right by our house. It’s nerve-racking, especially when I’m sitting on the porch or patio and trying to read or have quiet time.
If you read April’s comment, which is right above yours, you’ll see that she has to evacuate. They’ve already lost a home to a previous fire. So very frightening on top of everything else.
Stay safe, Melanie.
prayers for your son’s safe travels and health, melanie, and for you to have peace of mind about that.
stay safe!
kathy in iowa
yet more horrific fires in California. and this time a redwood forest is in danger!
it hardly all bears thinking about. the wildlife especially.
and then…
I saw the picture of your porch. it helped. thank you for posting.
sending you and everyone here… love and prayers. just to endure!
XO
Fortunately, redwoods can usually withstand fires, nevertheless, it’s very scary.
Glad to help in whatever way I can, Tammy.
Stay safe.
Yeah, my state is burning up. We have (bad) air-quality warnings every day. Dirty, smoky, hot air in SoCalif; unhealthful; it tries to obliterate the sun. I can’t be outside. And, down here, we’re HUMID. It’s mind-blowing to think we are suffering the effects of the northern fires, 300 miles south of them. Scary, too, because where I am in the south, we still have the worst fire months ahead of Sept-Oct-Nov. Of course the huge Thomas Fire was in Dec of 2017. So, it’s a long haul yet, potentially, for firefighters and terrified homeowners. I really do NOT want to keep living here (and I’m a native). It goes on ‘hold’ from time to time, but I’m constantly revisiting the need to leave. My eyes are burning so badly as I try to write this, that I have to stop. Every time a door opens and shuts, the air gets in. Night before last, I actually felt like I was breathing in barbeque fluid (charcoal lighter).
Keeping you in my thoughts and prayers Vicki! The words you used to describe your situation, I felt like I could see and feel what you are.
Thank you, Donna; you are so kind. But too many have it so much worse and I cry every time I see the footage on TV. Between Covid, politics and these awful weather events, we are a hurting country right now. There are days where I feel I’m about to fall off a cliff. I’m feeling for reader April here; to have to leave one’s home and shelter, it’s just unthinkable. I don’t imagine it’ll be in my lifetime (because I’m already ‘old’/older), but I can foresee where California may become unlivable as the planet continues to warm and create these catastrophic weather events. Climate change is REAL.
Climate change is indeed real Vicki. I am on the opposite coast and they project that water will cover a large portion of the East Coast due to climate change in the not so distant future. Our friends in the Gulf Coast are expecting their own nightmare this week. The times are so very, very scary. I hope and pray that they country votes to protect our country and our democracy. Take good care of yourself and prayers will continue.
Thank you. I lived in southwest Houston for three years (about thirty years ago) and I’d never seen such storms/RAIN in my life. We have earthquakes with no warning in SoCalif but that was a whole new ballgame for me on the Gulf Coast, knowing those hurricanes were headed straight for us; the days building up to it, the tension and warnings and all the preparedness.
I had a cousin send me a photo today from where she’s holing up in Crested Butte, Colorado for awhile, and THEIR smoke from wildfire is also quite ominous. Even though I think the fires are 150 miles away. I remember from when Al Gore started talking about climate change (I was barely out of high school, and I’m retirement age now, so it was a LONG time ago) and a lot of us didn’t even know what the heck he was talking about…
I love Louisiana. I love the Cajun Country; I loved New Orleans when I was there (pre-Katrina). I remember Claudia’s wonderful photos and commentary on NOLA from a couple of years back when Don was in the Jimmy Buffett theatrical production of “Escape to Margaritaville”. Just feel for those citizens in this double whammy of two storms with torrential rain and flooding probably a given. It IS a lot of prayers. A lot.
It does seem to be getting worse every year. I can only imagine how hard it is to live with this yearly threat. Stay inside. Can you wear some sort of mask, Vicki?
Stay safe.
Well, yes, the N95s. We still have some left over from the wildfire we experienced last Halloween night 2019 when I watched the fire burn less than a mile from the storage facility where most of my possessions/belongings are (while we, husband and I, have this interminable period of remodeling-not-finished [and we needed to get that stuff temporarily packed away and out of the house while it’s being worked on {the work currently stalled although we’re taking another stab at it in this coming week as I want my ‘stuff’ out of storage!!}]). When Covid started up, my husband very nearly gave those masks to the hospital when they were short on PPE, but these are the ones which filter out the most particulate matter from wildfire. (If you breathe in particulate matter, it can have dangerous long-term effects; and of course I’ve had asthma my entire life, so my lungs and airways can’t take much of anything these days.)
For instance, tomorrow, I have to go on the first of ten medical appointments I have between now and October 1st. All this time, I’ve waited to ‘get out’, but I can’t delay things any longer; and, now, it’s all stacked up. When I go to this one doctor tomorrow, it’s the first time I’ve been in public and around other humans since March 12. And I’m very uneasy because I’m at highest risk for complications from the virus. I do not want this virus; who does! For me, it’s very much a life & death issue; I have too many co-morbidities. So I’d be wearing the mask anyway (I’ll probably add a face shield, too), but now because of being in both the medical office AND in the fire smoke. I’m hoping it will be a quick trip.
Because you don’t linger in this air. And it’s forbidding; we barely saw the sun today and it’s so weird when the smoky sky blocks out the sun; it just sheds the most eerie daylight and, I’m telling you, for those of us who’ve lived with these wildfires in California all our lives, we remember that light and we know what it means. (Sorta like when I lived on the Gulf Coast and knew what it meant when the sky turned green, glad if it only meant HAIL.) With the Thomas Fire in 2017 Dec, even the darkest/blackest night would be aglow with portions of sky the color of orange sherbet, like creamsicle (fire and ‘white’ smoke). It’s a glow you never want to ever see.
I don’t, at the moment, have a bad fire (nothing like what April is going thru) immediately in my vicinity (knock on wood; the firefighters have brought into containment, the one which was 20 miles from me a few days ago; one that’s two hours north of here is almost 60 percent contained), but I’ve been, in other years, in broad daylight with a black sky and a red-orange sun which goes in & out, and I remember that from being on the play yard in 3rd grade when they hurried us out and closed the school. I’ll never forget how scared I was, running hard all the way home. I remember us helping my aunt evacuate when I was in high school, and the smoke was so think you couldn’t see beyond her driveway when normally she had a great view all the way to the creek. I can recall sitting on the hood of my car when I was in my early 20s, when I was parked safely in a grocery store parking lot two miles away, while I watched towering flames burn low, on the hillside just above my apartment.
It is a helpless feeling. And you worry for human life and structures, but also so much for the wildlife, nature’s creatures, trying to outrun their invaded habitat; disoriented, sometimes frozen on the roads in fear, often injured. Plus, so much of the time, there are farm animals and cattle grazing, behind fencing, so they’re trapped. Heroes try to rescue horses in corrals and stalls…when there’s enough time. It’s awful. It’s all just…awful. Awful.
Yes, indeed, PRAYERS. Say them for all the people in the path of two hurricanes and in these terrible wildfires.
Claudia, is your sister safe in Florida? I thought I remembered she’s more on Florida’s western side where she could really feel effects of these hurricanes on a path thru the Gulf? Although last time I saw any of this on the news, it seemed Louisiana would get hardest hit (although Houston isn’t in the clear either), and that will be flooding and tornado-style destruction. The only thing left will be your northeast and midwest blizzards to come, and then we’ll have had it all. (I want to forget 2020 as much as I want to forget Trump.)
…you know, this word substitution on my computer which we cannot seem to remove, is the most annoying thing! Like in my words above, ‘smoke was so think’ (unless it’s my eyes burning from smoke and too much flowing-blowing air from fans and air-conditioning!); I’m sure that’s not what I typed, which was ‘smoke was so THICK’.
you’ve been through a lot, vicki. sorry that you have to get out to so many appointments. i am praying for you!
i hadn’t heard the news in a long time … didn’t know about double storms now facing the gulf. lots of scary, sad and hard things going on all over!
claudia … i hope and pray for your sister and the rest of your family, too.
at least in my family, we call it “tornado green” … a color of the sky that meant/ means “watch out … seek shelter … get home asap”. and you’re right, vicki, no one wants to see that.
stay safe, everybody and everything in every way!
kathy in iowa
…thanx, kathy; I got thru the first of my multiple med appts; in and out quickly and of course the medical staffs know more about care with Covid than anybody; it just took me a long time to want to brave it out there in the big Covid World, like what you’ve been doing all along (my doctor said [somewhat in wonderment] to me, “what do you when you’ve shut yourself in for over five months; how do you keep occupied; how do you fill up the time?” and, I have to tell you, I couldn’t really answer the question all that well because, as much as had been my husband’s and my intent, we look back on the time as not being very productive, which is a good lesson/reminder that we don’t do the same with these NEXT five months!
I remember fires and ash reaching us in San Diego and the strangely colored sky. More recently, when we drove up the coast on our way back from La Jolla, we were in the valley and then heading up to Sacramento and there were fires going on and the sky was eerily beautiful. We knew it was because of the fires, of course.
I haven’t talked to my sister in the past week, but my experience is that every time I think whatever storm is headed their way might be a big deal, she is unconcerned. I think these are headed toward Louisiana, so they’ll probably get some wind and lots of rain.
Stay safe, Vicki.
Well, that’s a relief. I’m glad where she is that they’re usually spared. I just remember the one time they put Little Z into the closet for protection (he was all nestled in there cozy for the night in his safer little nook, the precious-sweet little guy); when they had the dog and just couldn’t risk moving the dog when it was in such poor health/age, which I totally/100 percent can understand as I (and you) would’ve done the same (thinking of the aging Scoutie). I remember that your brother-in-law threw the pool chairs into the pool so they wouldn’t blow around and be flying missiles! This post of yours really had an influence on me; look at how I remember it!
When I was living and working in southwest Houston, my co-worker said his family had stayed in ‘way East Houston, in their home somewhat near the Port of Houston/Houston Shipping Channel (very busy seaport), during a hurricane, and a tree narrowly missed their house when it was blown over, with his major childhood memory being that the sound of the hurricane was like a roaring train thundering down the track. He told me that the experience made him never hesitate getting out of the path and that he’d refuse to shelter in place but instead fight the car exodus out of the city in order to LEAVE. My husband and I were such newbies, not realizing how BAD the flooding can get in Houston because it’s so flat; also, my husband didn’t want to leave our house because somebody scared him about looting; so, more than once, we just hunkered down in the one windowless bathroom, us and all five pets (which was a real challenge in that tiny room, to keep the cat separated from the four dogs! [Ahh, the memories.]).
Hurricanes are frightening. We’ve had them here. We had one last month (we’re still finding damage.) I went through one with Mere and her husband when she was pregnant with her first child. They lived right on the Gulf at that time. It was something I’ll always remember.
xo
hej, vicki …
praying for you all …
i’ve heard (in a conversation that had nothing to do with the california fires) of people hanging blankets or wet sheets over doorways to try to keep outside air from coming in (as people need to leave and enter their homes). windows, too. not that you probably need much in the way of blankets where you live, but could that help you? or wearing a mask indoors?
stay safe in every way!
kathy in iowa
Hi, kathy. What you mentioned is nothing I’ve considered but it seems like a good idea. I thought my husband would NEVER shut the front door this evening when he decided to take out all the trash/garbage and recycling from the kitchen, which was a few trips as we’d been limiting going outside to do the trash task, so we were getting to overflow-stage.
The problem with me wearing a mask indefinitely, like indoors, is that it can exacerbate my breathing difficulties because I already have asthma, which is ramped up with our heat & humidity (and smoke) of the moment. (I’ve lost track of the last time we had a daytime temp of anything below 90 degrees.) If you’re already having trouble breathing, the mask just makes it that much harder (although I have several diff types of masks).
Believe me, it’s not just ‘me’ talking about this air; I had a few phone talks this weekend and it’s the topic on EVERYbody’s radar; it’s just UGLY ‘out there’. One thing that I’m sure does help me indoors is that, this year, we invested in a plug-in air cleaner (good-sized canister that sits on a table) which is supposed to clean the air in most rooms of our house. I don’t think it’s gonna last forever because it was a cheap version, so I’m saving up for a more super-duper one. I’d had one doctor who had two in his medical office during our Thomas Fire in 2017-18 (weeks of wildfire which couldn’t be contained) and he swore by air cleaners after that time (because of course his clinic door was opened and shut how many times a day, with all the patients going back and forth). He and his staff were protected by those cleaners and none of them got sick from breathing bad air which would have kept accumulating inside their lobby.
I bet in the 1930s Dust Bowl which hit Texas and Oklahoma so hard (which is where a lot of my ancestors were at the time), they’d have to wet a blanket for the doorway, or else all that dust would blow into the house, since it was already setting up in drifts OUTside the home. I do recall my dad telling me that his mother, out there on the prairie, would hang wet towels over the windows for coolness, both to keep food longer (I suppose something like milk, cream, butter) and to keep THEM (the family; the humans!) cooler, so I’m glad you brought this up because depending upon scenario, it could be a good, temporary fix for sure. Thanks!
Thank You. Prayers for every human being.
Absolutely. And every animal, bird, insect, reptile..
Stay safe, Bonnie.
Your porch looks so inviting, Claudia! I’ve just read about the terrible fires in California. My prayers and thoughts are for everyone’s safety.
Thank you, Dee Dee.
Stay safe!
your porch is lovely. Ours faces south and is not covered, but kind of nice. Outside is not nice for us these days. Too much heat, we are more used to rain and cold. Sometimes we can smell the smoke from California. Hope they get rain, lots of rain.
All my prayers go out for the postal workers who defy the orange creep.
I pray they get some rain, Jan.
Yes, prayers for the postal workers.
Stay safe.
Yes, yes, yes! I pray for the postal workers every day. The letter carriers (and what about UPS, FedX, too!) brave so much different weather and, then, with this SMOKE. And Covid. And on reduced hours? They have too much stress! They don’t need the kind of pressure they’re under. My local postal workers have been there for YEARS and they take the mail very seriously; it’s more than just their ‘job’. They have a mission, time-honored and revered, to deliver the mail as expediently and as accurately as possible, so I can’t imagine the frustration of being stalled at doing so. Just let them DO their job, unfettered!
I love our local carriers and post office employees. Besides doing what they do, all day, every day, they are our friends.
xo
Because I can’t see their dear faces right now since Covid, I send them cards and postcards every time we go pick up our mail ‘behind the scenes’ in off-hours. And sometimes I pick up the phone just to let them know someone is thinking about them. You are right. Postal workers ARE our friends! We’re a small post office in a small town. (I love the post office itself; the building. It’s from the 1930s. 1934 to be exact; a New Deal build [Franklin Roosevelt]. Its exterior is quite art deco, painted with pink and turquoise trims. [Although it’s badly in need of a refresh!] It has a couple of original ceiling ‘chandeliers’ in its cavernous interior … high ceilings! … and of course there’s a lot of old dark/burnished wood inside, like the wood and brass post office boxes which have a little glass window in each which reflect the number of the box in gold lettering and the wood postal counter where the clerks are, with their pull-down glass and black-iron grated ‘windows’ for each clerk at the counter, like an old bank.)
Even though small, they’re busy. It’s of course not just mail like letters and one’s bills being sent out. Some people use them like a bank, getting money orders and I believe even sending cash-money thru the mail, with the registered services (and out of country). But they’re of course very busy with parcels, especially Amazon. And for the small businesses/manufacturing which remain in our dying town, I see the employees of those entities bringing in big stacks of boxes where they’re using the USPS to deliver their product. One that comes to mind is a small grower who boxes specialty/ornamental fruit, like wheeling in a dozen boxes on a dolly. Or I’ll see somebody go out back to the loading dock and set up 20 cartons for the postal workers to take inside to weigh and prep for delivery.
But even my grandpa in the 1920s would get a big flat of baby chicks; my mom grew up with fresh eggs, even in the heart of big-city Los Angeles! She’d often talk of how he had a special place for them back at the house, with a warming light, and the deafening sound of all that peeping as he was ‘uncrate-ing’ them. Tiny fuzzy yellow baby chicks; a child’s delight.
And I have been reading about shipments of chicks that have arrived dead because of this slowdown. I despise De Joy. I watched part of the hearing yesterday and his arrogance and, quite frankly, colossal ignorance, was stunning.
xo
Oh, goodness, I guess they still do send baby chicks in this manner. I’d forgotten; but, yes, I remember a few years back HEARING them chirping en masse at the back room of the post office. My mother always spoke of it as such a happy event, when the chicks would arrive. She did mention that sometimes there’d be maybe one deceased chick which always upset her; but, other times, no. Her first job at Woolworth’s when she was a teen was to tend to the fish aquariums and she would hate to have to scoop out the dead goldfish. My dear mom just wanted to breathe life into any suffering little thing.
Yes, this DeJoy guy; I don’t like him either. I have a few choice words which will go unsaid here.
I find I can watch or hear nothing about the GOP convention. I’d thought to tune in for recaps on the evening TV news but I can’t even ‘go there’.
I can’t even do recaps now. I write more about that in today’s post.
xo
yes, jan … prayers for the postal workers!
hope you are well and stay safe!
kathy in iowa
Looking nice & peaceful by you, Claudia. Pretty hot & humid here in San Diego. My brother lives in Scotts Valley, outside of Santa Cruz & was evacuated Friday. Really tough times for so many people up there. Hopefully, those heroic ff’s will get this under control.
hej, priscilla c …
prayers for your brother (and everyone else facing fires, evacuations and other hard times) and you and all your family … that you and your brother can stay in frequent communication and stay safe and well.
kathy in iowa
I’m so sorry to hear your brother has had to evacuate, Priscilla.
Very very tough times.
Stay safe.
yes, prayers for all people and every other creature, for the firefighters, for the environment … everyone and everything.
we’re supposed to get more heat (90-plus) and humidity most of this week. hope it doesn’t head your way.
isn’t it nice, comforting to have things to count on … family, friends, favorite hobbies, movies and authors…?!? yes, it is. and for me, God is on that list, for sure!
i live on a busy street, but can usually and thankfully sleep through most traffic noises. i have, however, needed to tape posterboard on three of the four windowpanes (two windows total, on different walls) to block out two streetlights. maybe it looks weird from the outside, but i don’t care. it makes the room darker so i can sleep better. and for obvious reasons, i am thankful that it is well-lit around here.
hope you, don and everyone else are having a nice, safe day.
kathy in iowa
We use a white noise machine every night. And right now, we’re using the room air conditioner, so all sounds are muted.
Stay safe, Kathy.
We know a Cali evacuee too. And a couple who are in the region but still OK — or were. It moves so fast.
It sounds like a lovely day. I’m blogging on the porch too but it’s almost 10 and quiet, the occasional boat going by. I had to laugh at how it seems idyllic, your space. People say that to me, too, but the jet skis fly by, close, fast and loud. The motorcycles of the lake. Not idyllic!
Enjoy the day — or tomorrow, I suppose.It sounds lovely.
hej, jeanie …
prayers for the person you know who’s had to evacuate, for safety and wellness and for you to get some nice quiet time at the lake!
kathy in iowa
I remember the sound of jet skis and motor boats from the time we had a family cottage. They can be quite jarring!
Stay safe, Jeanie.
Sometimes I really have to work at reminding myself of all the beauty in the world and your posts are a blessing for that. These late summer days can be the best weather in NE and probably where you are too in the gorgeous Hudson Valley. After being shut in for so long, I was out for a little bit the other day and it was glorious to hear birds, watch butterflies and bees, and feel fresh air. I wish I would go out more often but I am convinced that the dangers of this virus are not completely known (let alone reported). I’ve just finished the new James Lee Burke, and I agree, his writing is lush, rich, deep, and moving. But I have to confess, much of the time I have no idea how or if the story resolves itself which is a bit frustrating. But I love his writing and his character of Robicheaux so much and the invocation of a part of the world I know very little about, that I will keep reading. Here’s to the start of a new week. May those living in the fire zone and the double hurricane path be safe. And the animals too.
Amen!
Thank you, Nora.
Stay safe.