Yesterday I found myself between the two door frames of my sons’ bedrooms. I had not realized I had bolted over there until my eyes fully adjusted and the rest of my mind woke. Whenever the jolt of an earthquake occurs I instinctively bolt to my children. The hubs sauntered upstairs; working late into the hours of the morning online. He casually mentioned the epicenter and magnitude and noted my footfalls during the rolling motions. Oh, the joys.
Later I sat with a classroom of adults absorbing information from the IRS and EDD. The numbers are not as intuitive as grammar and spelling. Upon the fourth hour of this course my mind went blank. I have a great appreciation for all CPA’s out there; particularly during the tax season. The one B I received in high school was in economics. I loved statistics and anything having to do with epidemiology. But basic accounting? Just ugh. The acronyms, forms and schedules made me dizzy. It is laughable that I am entrusted to handle the business financials; as well as serving as a PTA treasurer at my kids’ elementary school. When the IRS representative gave the contact information numbers and drily said to apportion 30-60 minutes of time when calling; I was the only one that laughed out loud. The rest of the room was overwhelmed and grumpy.
This morning I woke, pre-dawn, to complete PTA paperwork and was surprised to hear sirens. Upon dropping the boys at their respective schools, I finally understood why. What is it, Mom? Is it smog? the youngest asked. But upon closer inspection I noted it was a fire and the sirens earlier registered in my brain.
Unlike the rest of the nation we are experiencing above normal and dry conditions. But we were reminded of the cost of living in our location. Earthquakes, dry/high winds and fires.
I am thankful. We have only been mandatorily evacuated, once, as the smoke approached our community. Half of our school was affected and the community rallied together to help the families who had lost everything. The community where this current fire is located is where my sons learn the game of golf. The pilot of the spotter C-12 plane (which guides the super scooper planes with water drops) may be the hubs’ friend; when they flew C-12s together.
I continue to be a parent vigilante and, as the looky-loo parents gazed at the rising plume of smoke, creating traffic, I was able to record my favorite black, NOTW, Chevy Suburban SUV blazing past cars as the crossing guard stepped upon the curb. Finally! A clear shot. I am sick and tired of this daily occurrence and plan to visit my local police department. Who knows what happens after I report this, but I have been keeping watch for over three months for this opportunity. Sadly, it took a fire and traffic to get what I needed.
With the smallest full moon of 2014 the craziness has begun. Praying for calm wind and lowered temps. The local fire agencies are awesome!