Shame On Me

I'm ashamed for all my sniveling about the smoke and heat.  Yes, it's hot.  Yes, it's hard to breathe.  It's summer, woman, what did you expect?!  It's not like I do all that much anyhow, so I just need to get over myself.

I watched a lot of news yesterday, and California is on fire.  If there is anything good about the Ferguson fire over by Yosemite it is that, big as it is, it is in an unpopulated area.  Animals will recover and, as they found out when Yellowstone burned, the forest will come back stronger than before.  The Carr fire up around Redding is a different matter.  It is gobbling up houses like potato chips, entire neighborhoods burned to ash.  Cousins lost their home to the Santa Rosa fire in 2017, and it was devastating.  There was the one time that we were in a position of imminent evacuation here, and I don't ever want a repeat of that.  I know there is another big fire down in southern California, but it doesn't get the same news coverage up here.

How grateful we all must be that there are men and women willing to put their lives literally on the line and work in unspeakably terrible conditions to try and keep others safe.

Slowly and in small increments, daylight comes later and sundown is a bit earlier now.  Here, at least, life goes on as usual.  In the grand scheme of things, I have no complaints.