“Some say the world will end in ice . . .”

I was mostly focused on the Kincaid fire this weekend and how it was affecting Kate. Mothers tend to look at things personally sometimes rather than the big picture.
She was safe but stuck in a place with no power and no cell or WiFi.  All the businesses in her Mill Valley place were dark.  In the middle of the night, she drove in to SF to get gas so she could keep her devices charged. More important than keeping in touch with her mother, she needed to take care of some important issues at the work.  Like seeing that many surgeries that were scheduled in the San Rafael clinic were rescheduled and moved to the SF hospital.
We are so used to having  several ways of staying in instant communication with those we care about and of getting vital information.  I was able to upload maps of the power outages and evacuation areas. She couldn’t and I couldn’t send them to her.
Things look batter in morning’s light.
My heart was warmed this morning to see that my little state is helping:
 
“Fifteen wildfire strike teams from Oregon fire departments are on the way to help battle the California wildfires.
The strike teams, made up of nearly 300 firefighters who will assist in protecting structures, were sent from Klamath, Douglas, Yamhill, Linn, Columbia, Clatsop, Benton, Multnomah, Marion, Washington, Clackamas, Lincoln, Jackson, Josephine, and Lane counties.
California fire officials requested Oregon assistance through a state-to-state mutual aid system Sunday morning. Marion County’s wildfire strike team, consisting of seventeen firefighters from Jefferson, Silverton, Mt. Angel, Drakes Crossing and the Woodburn fire districts — and five brush trucks — departed about 10 a.m. Sunday from Salem Fire Station 6.

Remembering our Elders

Joannie marks all our family dates on her calendar, e.g. yesterday, was Granddaddy’s birthday.  She also notes the dates people died.  I’m so glad she does this.  On those dates, we talk about everything we can remember about them.

I’m terrible about these things, which is unfortunate, since I had relationships with most  of our forebears being the oldest child of an oldest child of an oldest child. I’m glad she spurs my memories.

About Grandaddy, I remembered that he was all about hard, physical work, believing that it was almost immoral not to knock yourself out every day.  He kept a record of al his earnings and expenses. He was very moral and devout.  Evenings, he spent reading good magazines that he subscribed too. He never missed church and, if you were staying at his house, you went too. He was always loving and kind to me. I never received anything from him, not a birthday card, not a Christmas present, and not a penny when he died. Lots of memories, though.

I have many happy memories of spending time in the rock house he built. Joannie and I both remembered sleeping in quilt “pallets” on the living room floor in front of the fireplace with all our cousins.