all squared up: Getaway Guilt

The morning of November 8th started off dry and breezy and much too warm for a November day. Too dry, too warm, and that breeze turned into quite a windy morning. An icky wind. A wind that had me thinking "this is one of those days when something really bad could happen in California."

Unfortunately I was right, and soon I learned that the town of Paradise, north of Sacramento, was pretty much wiped out by the worst fire in California history. The numbers of dead and/or missing are hard to fathom, as are the over 12,000 homes burned. I didn't know anyone there, but it's one of those places that makes you smile when someone claims from that town. Paradise - it must have been fun to write that down as a return address.

The day of the fire and the next, the skies in Sacramento became horribly smoky. Then Saturday it got downright scary. The streets looked foggy, but it was lung-burning and eye-tearing smoke. I saw a person with a full face respirator in the parking lot of Trader Joe's, and someone inside had a smoke mask. I thought they were being a bit dramatic, then I saw when I got home the air quality was in the hazardous range, all groups were advised to stay indoors. Suddenly that carton of soy milk didn't seem that important, I made a mental note to add smoke masks to our Go Bag kits.

The next few days were just a blur of depressing news, and more smoke. We had an inversion layer and the stuff would not budge from the skies, besides the fact that the Camp Fire to the north continued to rage. The stories of the evacuation were trickling out, and it sounded apocalyptic. My mood was matching the dreary skies. But we had a trip planned to Southern California, and I was looking forward to getting away. With the house cleaned for the dog sitters, we caught our early morning flight to my husband's conference in Irvine.

Knowing that the fires in Malibu were still active, I didn't expect to see great improvement in the air quality, but a change of scenery was due. I love staying in hotels, especially for my husband's conferences. Sleeping in, binge watching decorating shows, not making the bed, it's all good. The skies leaving Sacramento a week after the fire were still so bad, I'm surprised our flight wasn't cancelled. But oh was it nice to lift above that layer of smoke and fly away from hazardous air that was keeping us inside. The air in Long Beach was blue and it smelled fresh and lovely. I felt super guilty for enjoying the clean air, I wished I could turn a fan on and send it up north. The air back home was cancelling event after event, the local school district closed for a day, along with my husband's district and every other one in the area, including all the college campuses. I can't remember another disaster, except for maybe the 1989 earthquake, that was such a gut punch to Northern California in so many ways.

After our short stay in Irvine, we took a ferry to Catalina Island to catch up with an old friend from our days in South Lake Tahoe. It had been a long time since we had seen Laurel, a very long time. Ernst gave the talk that Sunday for the little English group, and we got to sleep in the equally small Kingdom Hall on a Murphy bed in the back room. We had breakfast each morning at the hotel where our friends live and work, so between the free digs and the free food, we only had to pay for the ferry ride. Our three nights on Catalina were a soothing balm for us, heart, mind and body. And lungs.