Friday, October 26, 2007

Friday; the power of ritual

WE ATTEMPTED to resume Friday rituals today: shopping at the farmer's market; visiting the grandfather/father/father-in-law with an offering of apples; cruising the thrift store for a substitute Halloween costume for the anxious son (Harry Potter was found (score!) as the handmade Puss-in-Boots remains at home). When in the world, I wear one of those face masks which I've noticed frightens young children. I plan to draw a cat nose and whiskers on mine tonight so as to avoid that reaction in the future. It will serve as my Halloween costume, I suppose.

Reports continue to arrive. A neighbor was escorted into our neighborhood and, yes, our house and hers stands. A backfire was started behind our home, at the edge of Hilltop Drive. We don't know what happened yet to the two bee hives. We evacuated our two cats, but not the bees. The sprinklers on the roof were turned off.

In the afternoon, we drove up to Cook's Corner where we we turned away. Escorts start from the other end of the canyon. The CHP officers were cordial. Further up, as we meandered around Portola Hills, I asked another CHP officer how it was going and he said it was fine. Some people had called him some names but he understood. It's hard to lose your house, he said.

As we drove back to our temporary quarters at our lovely friends' lovely home, we heard the news that the fire had moved into Silverado Canyon. By the time we got home, the OC Register had posted a front page picture of my son's teacher evacuating on foot, her arms full, her face, well, her face showing what you feel as you leave your home with the fire moving in behind you.

Tomorrow: in the morning we hope to qualify to be escorted into our canyon and our home. I need to retrieve papers and books so I can resume my classes on Monday. Then there are two birthday parties to attend, count 'em TWO. This will be the first time our son will have seen his schoolmates and friends since the conflagration. Some of the children invited have been, like us, evacuated from their homes all week. Some of them have lost their homes. Some of them don't know what they have lost. The birthday presents have been chosen (microscopes) and the cards have been drawn. We forgot to buy wrapping paper but we will find something. At some point, candles will be lit, wishes will be made, then the tiny fires will be blown out.

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

It's so achingly painful when life just keeps going on.

Roy's obituary in LA Times and Register: "we were lucky to have you while we did"

  This ran in the Sunday December 24, 2023 edition of the Los Angeles Times and the Orange County Register : July 14, 1955 - November 20, 2...