One of those weeks!

I woke up this morning smelling bacon and wondered why Richard was up, making breakfast so early. The aroma was from the smoke from yesterday's fire lingering in the air. Our wonderful firefighters appear to have the blaze under control although people are still evacuated and some of the roads closed. People who have horses and other large animals have the worst of the evacuations having to trailer panicky animals and move them (with food) to temporary shelters. The electricity was off for a few hours and that was our only inconvenience although I'm still shaking off adrenalin. My anxiety goes through the roof when fire is nearby having had several near misses. At last report, the fire is sixty percent contained and has burned three hundred and sixty-five acres according to the Facebook page called Brush Fire Partyline/San Diego North County, which provides a ton of information.

Photo from our local paper, The Village News

As Richard was in Fallbrook when the electricity was turned off he couldn't get back in through our gates. I finally learned how to open them in case of power failure. The incident served as a reminder to restock the emergency boxes...with insurance documents, a copy of our address book, spare credit cards, memorabilia...and have them ready to go when we're next evacuated. 

It's been one of those weeks you hope never happens. My car failed to start when I was parked in the shopping center lot which has a seven-foot clearance. It's very difficult to get towed out of such a lot. After two days on and off (waiting for AAA to get a towing vehicle for low clearance) we were able to get the car going with the help of a kind man from BMW who drove to the car with us and got it going. No charge. They performed an all-points inspection on it, washed it, did some recall wiring work and returned the spanking clean vehicle to me. No charge. 

And the worst thing that happened. A friend in Canada who's been suffering with ALS for two years, died, at the time of her choice, Saturday morning. Even though we knew her death was imminent and even though we knew of her plan to check out when she'd had enough, it was unsettling. She's the first person I know to have chosen her exit in this way — it's called MAiD (medical assistance in dying) in Canada. She was a lovely person, generous and talented.

I met her in HoChiMinhCity at 1:00 a.m. many years ago when I arrived there to do a food tour with her company, Lemongrass Tours. I couldn't believe she came to the airport so late to meet me! Who does that?? She was thoughtful and kind. It's hard to believe she's gone. RIP Annie.

"A Parable of Immortality"
by Henry Van Dyke

I am standing upon the seashore.
A ship at my side spreads her white sails to the morning breeze
and starts for the blue ocean.

She is an object of beauty and strength,
and I stand and watch until at last she hangs
like a speck of white cloud
just where the sea and sky come down to mingle with each other.
Then someone at my side says,
“There she goes!”
Gone where?
Gone from my sight . . . that is all.
She is just as large in mast and hull and spar
as she was when she left my side
and just as able to bear her load of living freight
to the place of destination.
Her diminished size is in me, not in her.
And just at the moment
when someone at my side says,
“There she goes!”
there are other eyes watching her coming . . .
and other voices ready to take up the glad shout . . .
“Here she comes!”