Return To Downton

The thermometer read 100 degrees when I got back to the house from the barn.  It stayed pegged there throughout the day.  One of the last things left in my "bug-out" bag was the set of DVDs of "Downton Abbey" that I'd borrowed from Deb and Craig.  (I packed only the really important stuff!)  Knowing not much would get accomplished in the heat, I settled in and got ready for another marathon at/of Downton.  Between episodes, Bessie Anne and I went out to the deck for a cool-down.  The plants were gasping, I was sweating, Bess was panting.  The water in her pool was too hot for her so in between giving the plants a drink, I filled the pool with cold water.  She immediately stepped in of her own accord and waded around.  I turned the spray up over my head and reveled in a cool shower - several times.  Back in the house, I'd no more sat down to join my friends at the Abbey than the power went out.  Aaargh.  I'd been so diligent about keeping my cell phone charged during the fire; wouldn't you know I'd let the battery get down to one bar?  I found out today that a transformer had blown over on Sand Ridge.  A friend of mine had seen it blow and her husband and a few neighbors almost had the resulting fire put out before the fire department got there.  Whew.  Here, after an hour with no fans and no TV, the power came back.  Another bullet dodged.

I have more to say about Downton Abbey, but that's another story for another day.  I need to get down to the barn.

Their Own Bed

Lumpy, too soft, too hard - it doesn't matter.  There is nothing quite like crawling into your very own bed after any time away from home.  The goats and Poppy were so obviously happy yesterday morning that they had slept in their rooms and we had returned to the swing of our normal routine.  I am so grateful that a couple of nights outside is the worst that happened to them during this latest crisis.  The Sand Fire is nearly contained and we are no longer in danger here.

And life goes on.  Babe continues to run along the railing.  Ralph, blast him, has decided he doesn't like the mini-blinds in the front bedroom window and has broken a number of slats to get a better view.  I won't say it adds much to the look of the house.  I had put Celeste's treats in the pile to take if we needed to leave.  She let me know yesterday  it was time to unpack and tend to business, my main job being to give her goodies.  Bessie Anne knew something was wrong and had been clinging to me like a limpet for days.  She napped most of yesterday, as did I.  The girls went into the barn and the chickens into their coops last night with nary a complaint.  Life goes on.

Almost All Clear

I have posted photos of some spectacular sunsets in the past.  Not that this one isn't pretty, but it has special significance because, for the first time since last Friday, there is NO smoke on the horizon.  The relief is tremendous, equal to the tension we've been under the last few days.  I can't say enough good things about the valiant firefighters who have worked in triple-digit weather to knock the fire down to about 75% now.  They are heroes.

I put the girls into the barn and the chickens slept with shut doors last night.  My thinking had been to leave them an escape route if the fire came.  Taking a chance with nighttime wild things seemed the better choice than being locked in.  The chickens didn't seem to have an opinion, but the goats and Poppy did not like the disruption of their routine and complained loudly morning and evening.  Worried, they clumped together during the day, not spreading out to graze as they normally would.  There is something to be said for leaving the girls outside:  no need to clean stalls.

Dog and cat food was in the truck, ready for a quick getaway.  I brought the bags back into the house last night.  The fire is not out yet, but the immediate danger seems past and I think we can start the return to normal.  Deciding to travel light, I don't have a lot to put back.

I am blessed with so much love from my dear family and friends.  Calls and notes from caring people near and far fill my heart and I am grateful for each and every one.  My daughter posted today on FaceBook, attributing me with strength I certainly don't feel.  I've been scared silly.  Any strength I might have had is due to my children and loved ones.  Thank you, one and all.

It's a good day.

Roller Coaster

The past few days have been an emotional up and down.  Do we stay?  Do we go?  What to do?  Tree Guy and Son came up here yesterday because they couldn't see anything from their place and I took advantage of them to make a quick run to the grocery store (was out of cat food and Ralph and Celeste were complaining).  I put out a couple of camp chairs and handed TG & Son a beer so they could watch the smoke in comfort and ease.  They would watch the house just in case.  The "big road" was closed south of where I needed to go, and I was afraid I wouldn't be able to get back home if I didn't hurry.  (I had no problems, but did race to the store and back.)  I can't see any smoke at all today, so I think we're out of danger.

Hard to believe, but I slept in until almost 7:30 today.  Can't remember the last time that happened.

A Long, Long Day

I'm still here.  It was pretty iffy for most of yesterday as the Sand Fire continued to spread.  It went from 40 acres to more than 4,000 in what seemed like no time and was coming in our direction.  One of the most frustrating things throughout the day was our inability to get accurate, updated information.  The telephone and computer were our lifeline.  Calls were flying back and forth with good wishes, shared fears, offers of help, rumors, and facts.  Deb, even though I know she was afraid and upset, kept me anchored and on course as I went through the house, gathering what I might need if we had to evacuate.  I know without asking that Craig is her support person as well as mine.  I certainly didn't need a fire to remind me of who and what is important.  Deb was command central for all her brothers, feeding information and photos and letting them know that we were still okay.  Things got pretty tense when a notice was sent out that our area was under voluntary evacuation.  The truck was packed and ready to go (still is), but I decided to wait until it was mandatory.  Thankfully, that knock on the door didn't come in the night.

I'll get caught up in more detail tomorrow.  Tensions and emotions ran high yesterday and it was a long, long day.  Thanks to all for the support from everyone.  It helps.

Just got my laugh for the morning.  I have a pile by the door of last-minute stuff to take if necessary, including a bag with dog and cat treats.  Ralph and Celeste are lying together right by that bag.  If I'm going to take their treats, they're going too!

Scary Stuff

This is not the not the sight one wishes to see, but one we all fear.  It had been a pretty uneventful day.  I'd been back and forth in front of the front door any number of times, always glancing out to see what critters were cruising through.  In late afternoon, I noticed the sky had a strange color and stepped outside.  From the doorway, the big oak blocked my view of this column of smoke rising in the southwest.  It's difficult to judge distance, but the fire was too close, regardless, and it was a big one.  The TV news had already picked it up so I was able to find out that the location was over on Sand Ridge Road, closer to Plymouth than El Dorado, near Highway 49.  Reported to be about 40 acres when this photo was taken, it jumped to 300 in what seemed like minutes, and is now at 1,300 acres.

It's easy to see how the base of the smoke column spread in just a couple of hours.  Homes have burned and many people have been evacuated to Placerville.  As always, I think of the wildlife that will be killed.

Glow from the flames was clearly visible after dark, and they danced in my dreams last night.

God bless the firefighters.  They are working in triple-digit weather, in addition to what must be unbelievable heat near the fire.  Scary stuff, this.

Bird Watching

We take our bird watching pretty seriously up here.  In fact, we not only watch our own birds, we keep an eye on others', too.  My friend Cam had business that would take her over to Reno yesterday.  The timing of her trip was such that she could care for Shadow, Cricket (donkeys) and the chickens and cats, but knew the hummingbird bottles would go dry before their evening feeding.  The little guys slurp "juice" all day, but are most active at sunup and sundown and she didn't want them to go hungry through the night, so asked me to be her bird-sitter.  There are many, many hummers in our area.  A winery up the road is named Colibri Ridge; colibri is a variety of hummingbird.  Accordingly, I went down to Camille's and refilled her feeders in the afternoon, hummers buzzing around my head all the while.  My hummers are drinking two quarts of juice a day, sometimes more.  Once these flying jewels come under our custody, we take the job seriously.  The pleasure of watching these birds is worth the time and trouble.

I continue to try to stem the tide of ants in the kitchen.  Single scouts are squooshed on the spot and the spray can is kept handy for the rivers of tiny black ants.  With the cats and Bessie Anne, the spray must be used judiciously so only the ants are killed.

In addition to the home invasion above, there was a break-in of another sort yesterday.  When Patrick unloaded a delivery of alfalfa the day before, he had not rechained the hog-panel gates to the feed section.  Those same deer I'd called delightful got another "D" word yesterday when I discovered they'd torn one panel off the hinges and helped themselves.  I guess I'd rather be Lady Bountiful voluntarily dispensing largesse than be ripped off by vagrants, even though the end result is the same.

The sun is just cresting the hill.  I'd better go get breakfast for the hummingbirds before they start banging on the windows.