Late as usual. But then better late than never, right?
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Thunder, lightning, heavy rain tuesday night beginning around 1915. Quite an interesting way to end the day
The McKinney fire along the Klamath between Yreka and Happy Camp is the largest in California, including more than 60K+ burned over so far about 50% contained as of this morning with 5 known dead, four of whom were found in the area of their homes. They evidently had not evacuated.
The fifth death was a woman who George and I met when we were lookouts on Paradise Craggy. She had been at Buckhorn in the Six Rivers area for years and died at her duty site when access was cut off.
Fighting the McKinney is using all the regular equipment and personnel provided from both local and surrounding areas including Hot Shot units.
Among other lightning fires was a small one northeast of the McKinney just two miles south of the Oregon border which was quickly contained due to the plethora of firefighters in the area and another northeast of Happy Camp moving west. Happy Camp is the center of the Karuk tribe which owns the local Casino in Yreka, a section of which they offered to be used as an evacuation location, and is deeply involved in environmental affairs. Many tribal members are US Forest Service firefighters.
There were multiple lightning fires in the south central Siskiyou area as of this morning, all small and easily contained because firefighters were ready.
There were even fires very close to the ocean in Humboldt and Del Norte counties.
Oregon is also experiencing multiple fires over their state, but I haven’t been following them closely.
Anticipating the need for firefighters by being ready reminded me of a local smoke jumper who carried special clothing with him in his backpack.
He would jump into the fire area, spend the time required fighting the fire, and when his shift was over he and others in his firefighter group hiked out. As they got close to the regrouping area, he would stop to take out the special clothing and arrive in camp dressed in a rumpled but identifiable tuxedo complete with a black bowtie.
Talk about class. I’d bet I may be the only one still alive who remembers how that goofy act made us all lose some of our tension as we laughed and relaxed a bit.
But maybe not. If there are any of the kids who were in high school at the time (they’d be in their mid to late 60s now), and were in one or more of his classes, maybe they remember too.
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Interesting (in more ways than one) happened a couple of days ago. I had ordered an item over the net to be delivered to my home. When it arrived and I began to unpack it, wonder of wonders … the packing consisted of several copies the Comics from an ( undated) New Hampshire Sunday paper.
It was like being very young again when all daily papers had a Sunday Funnies section.
Talk about a time warp.
I decided to iron out the wrinkles and put aside a copy to add to my genealogy cache. A treat for all of those in the future who never knew the “fun” of the Sunday Funnies which were exciting, funny, and clever, all without any questionable language or what was once considered to be improper clothing. Something all the family could share and enjoy.
In fact, the skirt and top I wore to my senior prom was made for me by my mother based on a character in Terry and the Pirates. While most other girls were in pastels for our Senior Prom, as was I for my Junior prom …
But for the Senior Prom, I was in a slim, fairly straight skirt with a small slit over the right ankle and a semi-fitted tuck-in top in black with an understated but bold pattern of vines in shades of green and flowers of gold and light yellow. Date pictures weren’t a thing in those days and so no photo. Haven’t found a family photo either. Sorry …
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Usually in May, the fir trees sport fresh, light green new growth tips. It used to feel as if they were dressing up for my birthday.
Climate change seems to have set back that display. No show in May, but they are dressed now. As pretty as in the past. Just a surprise.
The blaze of California poppies we had been enjoying this spring and summer have finished their cycle of seeding and fading, and so have been mowed by the Village groundskeep er. They were such eye candy for so long, the area looks naked now.
Consolation is we can now anticipate next spring when they will return.
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Current reading is a clutch of mysteries. Are you surprised?
What has kept me interested lately are the varied setting and times … Japan, England, New England, Ireland, Latin America, Scotland, Africa, (and other places that never existed) and in times that also have not ever or yet existed … and on and on and on …
As was once said, books are as good as and sometimes better than a passport.
I am currently in Victorian London before motor cars. Will soon be going to several different areas of England in the company of a Belgian and his WW I veteran companion.
P.S. Not about reading but worth sharing.
Spent some time with a trip with Saturn (via NOVA) with, passing by, through its rings, some of its moons, and a fiery death on its surface by a scientific satellite named Voyager WOW.
Remember the name of the space vessel in the first StarTrek movie?
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Over several days in a row, a small hummingbird would visit the blooming roses. I enjoyed watching her (I was sure it was a female because she was small) and began to think I needed to put out a feeder for her. Couldn’t find anything for the $10 I remember paying for each of them back in the day when I had about six or seven in the area of the pergozabolis at the farm, but the one I bought last week was close to $75 plus tax including a starter addition of antibiotic for the first filling.
At the farm, there was a red tailed bully who seemed to spend all day keeping watch and chasing off any other hummer who dared to encroach on his territory. I used to get so angry at him and tried everything I could think of to discourage him without damaging the others. I never succeeded.
In pictures and videos, I’d see feeders surrounded by a clutch (or whatever they call a bunch of hummingbirds) and wish I had that in my yard.
Then I hung out the new feeder where I could see it from the couch in the living room and waited.
The first to visit was a little female. The second was a slightly larger red breasted, red tailed bird, which I think is a male, who soon made an entrance and established himself as a bully-in-charge.
The little bird I had become used to seeing didn’t return for a couple of days, but when she did the bigger red tail turned out to truly be a bully and chased her off, preventing her from feeding.
I was angry and, as the farm, I started thinking of what I could do.
I was told a neighbor had the same problem when she first put out a feeder but now has a shared feeder, so I planned to go ask her what she did.
Then last friday, before I could make the visit to my neighbor, the little hummer was back. For a bit, she flew off when challenged. Then, as I sat watching, she found her moxie and started chasing red tail. Now if he challenges her, she turns and follows him as he flies away after trying to intimidate her.
By saturday a coalition had developed so that at least two little hummers would come to feed at the same time. And, miracle of miracles, they began to take turns chasing the bully.
Just tired of all the b——t?
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The first two Black Krim tomatoes are set.
But no sign of the White (yellow?)
Oh well …
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I’ve been collecting petals from the Peace rose on my front porch as she loosens her grip on them. Last saturday she was down to the last Rose of this summer.
I’m drying the petals and letting the seed buds stay on the bush. I want to see if she provides hips and, as my personal horticulturist (son John) says, to watch her through her entire cycle.
In addition, I’ll have petals for making rose oil.
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In a previous blog, I spoke about the Village tree with multiple coloured of leaves.
Well, a cousin sent me a link to a multi-coloured tree …
Thanks Roxie. It was pretty, but it isn’t the tree here.
So I’m still looking for information….
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Last monday, one of my fire alarms chose to announce its low battery at 0400. I don’t know how to change them. How could I not know? There had always been someone else to handle that, that’s how. I might have tackled it with the three step stool I have if now at 92 I had better muscle control.
Instead, I called Mark. Poor guy.
Turned out he was awake anyhow, working, and was here in about 30 minutes. He had the batteries in all four alarms replaced in less than 30 minutes, had the sweet spot setup ready for John’s computer visit on Wednesday (Mark had planned to come out monday to deliver), and, as long as he was here, he connected the DirectTV to my internet.
We both took some deep breaths and, since by then it was the time each of us usually wake up, he left for home and I started my day. What a way to start a new week.
So now to end the week …
None of us are immune to life’s changes. How we move through them is what defines us.
Choose to be grateful, no matter what.
So, ‘til next week …
P.S. Sorry about the repeat of the poppies. Still learning how to insert photos.