FIRE IN THE SKY/SMOKE ON THE WATER

Some of my friends and family in Oregon are under evacuation orders … or waiting for the orders to come to their town.

My friend’s town – (the entire town) has been evacuated, and her home may not survive the wildfire. The firefighters have abandoned the wildfire to help rush people to safety.

Where my fiend is.

The wildfire cannot be contained or controlled – plan is to let it burn itself out: people are a 1st priority.

The entire Oregon coast is under a THICK CLOUD of smoke.

Salem, OR – September 8, 2020

Clackamas, OR – a few miles from friend and family.

Tualatin Valley, OR – September 9, 2020

Willamette Falls, OR – September 9, 2020

My friend has found an available hotel to hole up in for 3 days, but it is spendy: all other hotels are filled to capacity with people fleeing the wildfires. I have left her a voice message - so far, have not heard back: she will call when she is able to do so.

This morning, when I saw on FB that East Devils Lake Road in Lincoln City was covered in smoke with poor visibility, and that the fire and hopped US101 near the golf course and spreading damage on the west side of 101 … I called my oldest granddaughter to inquire about her family there: family members are no longer in the area, and they are packed, with irreplaceable vouchers if things come to that; and ready to “GO!” if evacuation orders are issued.

Lincoln City – Hwy 18. September 9, 2020

I spoke with my other granddaughter, yesterday; and asked if they were safe – and did they have somewhere to go if they had to evacuate … I was told they are “okay – and yes, we do”. A few minutes ago, I was informed: “We are prepared.”

I cried when I saw how thick the smoke was in their town, and I told her it was not funny to gaslight Grandma … and we laughed. But I am worried: they refuse to leave their animals behind if they have to flee in a mad rush (2 ferrets, a lizard, and 2 kittens). I am seriously worried – 2 of the kids have asthma, the youngest using a child’s asthma apparatus. I am trying not to feel fear.

Where my KIDS ARE. Literally 5 minutes away from their front door.

Hanging onto this promise ...

I was thinking about all the fires hemming us in, on all sides - from the mountains to the ocean ... to the Columbia between both States; and this song popped into my thoughts. I think a little humor is in order to ease the stress ;-)

(https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ikGyZh0VbPQ)

Both girls asked me how I am doing. So far, I am okay. It is smokey here at the Park, and visibility is poor as smoke hangs over the Park, and the smell of woodsmoke is pungent. But, for now this bad girl who has kicked up her heels all Spring & Summer, bucking against the Covid restrictions has had her wings clipped by wildfire chaos. I'm hunkered down inside the house - some smoke does creep into the house, no matter how 'locked tight' the windows and doors are; but it is not a major concern. My inhaler is in my pocket if I need it. So far, I have not had to use it.

Red Sun orb in the gray smoke-filled sky above my home.

Color of the sun - if it weren't so tragic, it would be pretty.

((((THANK YOU, YESHUA!)))) that my grandchildren and their families are – for the moment – safe and out of harm’s way! The Lord is faithful, and greatly to be praised! Amen. 

It has been thought by some, that antifa may be behind some of the Oregon fires. I wouldn’t be surprised. I know for a fact that a fire was started in Chinook, WA earlier this summer by a man throwing a firecracker string out his car window – I SAW IT HAPPEN, and the fire quickly escalated in the dry grass and ocean wind.

July 19^th, 2020 – Chinook, WA grass fire started from a firecracker.

Most of the fires in Washington state have been deliberately set by anarchists directly connected to terrorist group antifa … which is directly tied to the terrorist black lives matter organization: (https://www.wethegoverned.com/who-are-the-arsonists-setting-rural-fires-in-washington-state/)

When you hear "the entire West Coast is on fire" - BELIEVE IT. There are fires all around us.

(https://www.camaspostrecord.com/news/2020/sep/10/wildfire-causes-be-ready-order-near-washougal/ & https://komonews.com/news/local/smoke-from-eastern-wa-wildfires-blows-into-puget-sound-area-amid-rare-windstorm)

People really feel like the world is coming to an end with everything that is happening on the West Coast right now: hopelessness is a real danger, and people cannot think rationally when they feel hopeless.

RELEVANT HARVESTS

Tuesday morning, as soon as I could get outside without upsetting the neighbors with morning activity, I harvested both apple trees and every vegetable that was ripe for the picking.

Yesterday’s morning sky a little after 8 AM: the moon still showing.

AM Harvest.

All the apples, corn and onions are harvested – there’s some stuff still left in the garden, but very little: some zucchini, celery, carrots, and herbs: the beans are sporadic and pretty much played out.

I was in my kitchen from 9 AM to around 10 PM with chopping, slicing, dicing and bagging vegetables for the freezer. But that’s okay … I’ll be enjoying yesterday’s work with my feet comfortably resting, all Winter long 😉

The apples didn’t even get a cursory glance other than the moving of them from the harvest basket to work bowls.

Katrina Cabbage; 2 cups, sliced.

1 cup baggie portions.

I love fresh corn – I will even eat it right off the stalk and shucked 😉 Last year I didn’t get any corn at all. I am very happy with this year’s haul.

The smell of garden grown tomatoes is wonderful! If I don’t grow anything else – tomatoes are ALWAYS grown 😊

This is going to taste so awesome this Winter; and the smell when I open the baggies is going to have me chomping at the bit for Spring’s arrival.

Prepared veggies ready for the freezer.

I had cleaned the kitchen and bagged the garbage, but when I opened the door, my lungs and eyes were assailed with a very strong campfire odor that I recognized immediately as wildfire smoke drifting across the river on the winds from Oregon. My lungs instantly seized up and my heart rate accelerated.

I had been so engrossed in the kitchen, that I hadn’t noticed the smoke settling over the Park: it was thick (visibly white like drifting river fog, and heavy with pungency). I quickly shut the door and set the garbage aside until tomorrow – my garbage is small amounts, now that there is just me.

And, I was exhausted from standing on my feet all day prepping veggies for the freezer. I just called it an early night and shuffled down the hallway to the bedroom.

 From what I could see out of the livingroom windows when I woke up this morning … the morning air was still hazy with wildfire smoke; and from the shrouding and drifting smoke, still as lung seizing pungent.

So, my garden did not get watered.

Instead, I changed plans; and made Apple Pie Filling with some of the apples I harvested Tuesday morning, to put in the freezer for pies later on. Then, I got busy shredding, chopping, and bagging vegetables I didn’t get to Tuesday evening – that staved off the boredom of being housebound.

This card made me laugh. Bob always gave me humorous cards; I was glad to see this

Making Apple Pie Filling for 2 pies.

Pie Filling ready for the freezer.

Wildfire smoke thick again.

Thin sliced apple slices for Winter casserole dishes.

I’m getting encouraging feedback that my Blog & FB posts are helpful; another relevant ‘harvest’.

The kids always tell me that I am irrelevant; I’m glad others find me relevant …

It's good to interact and grow with encouragement.

I'm glad to be of help to others.

Today’s work …

55 days until November 3^rd … please Lord! Let us have a break from the rampant insanity that has gripped this Nation.

113 days until this year ends.

Most of this year has been one man-made crisis after another; and hard truths to deal with in my personal life.

AIR QUALITY. 8.30 PM

I will be happy to put 2020 behind me … 

In the meantime, I’m going to relax after my day’s work, and enjoy a few Buffy Saint-Marie songs that speak to me. 

It’s My Way: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dCvTfhuPiLo

Until It’s Time for You to Go: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_2DpY_eXPZM

I like Native American music – always have 😉 

I do have Lakota DNA running through my veins; and I was upfront about that when Bob & I started dating.

One of my sisters is married to a giant of a Piute.

And my granddaughter married a Native American 9 months ago: they are considering legally changing their name to reflect a Native American moniker.

I, personally think Native American music is beautiful.

Hauntingly beautiful 😊

EXPOSED & ADRIFT

Over this Labor Day weekend, I drained the rain barrels and pulled them off their stands; there wasn’t much in them because it’s been unseasonably dry this Spring/Summer – and I didn’t want to chance a sudden rainfall that would refill them … making them impossible to drain before October’s frost arrived.

Some people leave their rain barrels in place; but I like to pull mine down and store them, with their accompanying stands in the sheltering carport breezeway, hoping to extend their usefulness until I can no longer shift them and gardening falls by the wayside.

Today's harvest. 10 corn, 1 eggplant, a handful of purple Romano beans, tomatoes, 2 onions & parsley.

Heavy cloud overcast; hot and muggy.

Rain barrels/stands stored until Spring 2021.

In 2014, Bob made me a bird feeder, and several bird house for the yard at our previous house in Lexington, Kelso: I brought this bird house with a flip side for easy cleaning with me when we moved here the Summer of 2017. I usually save bird nests (I’m THAT country 😉), but the birds here build nests that are so lightweight they literally fall apart; so into the trash they go.

Last year I was going through the motions without feeling much of anything; I was doing what needed to be done – basically to keep my body busy and my mind occupied with what I was doing in the moment: I didn’t give a rip what the neighbors thought – I was, thank God, wrapped in a layer of protectivity that pretty much numbed me to anything happening in the world around me.

But this year, I am more aware.

I KNOW the neighbors are watching every move I make ... what I am doing in my garden area, how I walk to the birdfeeder to refill it, how I tipped the rain barrels to drain them - I prayed to God I could do it gracefully with all eyes on me. Covid-19 has been used by governors to keep people tethered to their homes … people have been afraid to go outside their homes for 6 months; there is very little to do for people trapped in their homes, so watching neighbors is the neighborhood fun right now.

I KNOW the neighbors are curious about “the widow next door” and how I am handling things (I hope I am passing the exams): this has been passed to me through the grapevine hotline. Most thought I was a divorcee when Bob was suddenly absent and I was parking the car in the carport without Bob accompanying me. They were surprised when they heard through the grapevine that I am a widow; they are watching because they are curious.

I have become a curiosity.

But here’s the kicker … I’m curious about me too.

I’m curious about how I will accomplish things that need doing.

And I don’t want bored, nosey neighbors watching me try to figure it out. It’s hard enough to adjust without having eyes on all sides watching your every move.

I don’t like feeling exposed and adrift.

These are new feelings.

I never felt them when Bob was here.

But Bob is no longer here … and I feel exposed and adrift.

I feel exposed because people are watching me – and not just strangers

Everyone is curious; strangers are curious with a morbid curiosity. People who have known me all my life with Bob, are curious to know when I will snap back and continue on as before.

I am curious too.

I know I am different now.

I’m never sure how to deal with the uncertainty.

Since the forced in-home-trapments, some mornings I literally have to force myself out of bed and out of the house to get things done. As soon as I step outside, I can feel the stares as I go about my business; trying to ignore the eyed intrusions on my private life. A 4 foot fence (which is the limit for fence heighth here) is not enough to make me feel comfortable in my "private space".

My confidence has been shaken by the political bullshit added to the already fragile shakeup following Bob's graduation.

Nothing will ever be the same again – there will be no “snap back”. Nothing is the same.

Nothing.

I am not the same: I will never be the same.

I am learning new ways of doing old things … and ways of doing new things I’ve never done before.

The most complex thing I have learned since walking across the threshold of our home as a 4-hour-old-widow, December 14^th, 2018, was that my home did not feel like my home anymore. My home was always where Bob was.

And Bob isn’t anymore.

I am a strenger in my own life; trying to find stable footing.

I would never again walk through any door in this house and know Bob was somewhere in it. I walked into a house … but it was no longer a home.

And though I have, since December 14^th, 2018 lived in this house and put my own stamp of ownership on it in March of 2018 when legal ownership was mine solely – it doesn’t feel the same. It does not truly feel like home; it is just a house, with my Name on the Deed of ownership papers.

My activities concerning the house, don’t feel the same – things concerning living in this house … don’t feel the same. Easy chores that I once took pleasure in, feel like a chore I can’t wait to get through and be done with. When Bob was here, and I was his actual physical wife, I enjoyed making a home environment for my husband. Now, those things seem pointless. It is hard to work up excitement for solo meals. It is hard to feel accomplished when there is no one else to notice, and give affirmation to the effort that went into the task. Laundry for one short woman … when you are used to long legged jeans and oversized shirts for a man 6’2”, and the occasional “so cute!” children’s clothing for a grandchild now and then … is painfully boring.

A lot has changed in 20 months: people watching do not know the scope of changes that have occurred.

My life – on all levels – has been drastically altered.

It will never snap back to the way it was before my life took a serious detour from my life I shared with Bob.

My activities do not feel the same.

My routine is not the same.

My thoughts, and my feelings are not the same.

There is not one thing in my life today that remained/feels the same.

Not one.

And most days I do okay with that acknowledgement.

Then there are the days when the absolute difference makes itself known and felt … and I don’t feel like a flamingo; I feel like a pigeon who has lost it’s homing radar. Those are the days I want the old sameness to cover me with shelter from curious eyes; and to give me the anchoring comfort against the tide of life that sets me adrift on the sea of uncertain life situations and circumstances.

Neighbors gawk; that is human nature – but if Bob were still here, I wouldn’t feel exposed.

Bob was my shelter in more ways than 1.

Bob was my anchor in more ways than 1.

Now that Bob is no longer here … and I feel exposed and adrift.

In more ways than 1.