back where i started

I am writing today from the very spot from which this blog was started. I am sitting in the corner section of a large white leather sofa, located in the cyber cafe in downtown Dayton. From this very spot, much of what I have written here was hatched.

The lumps in my stomach are gone. The town is safe. Lost in the fire - which they are calling the Columbia Complex fire - was one home, a few head of cattle, a few out-buildings and 66,000 acres of pure natural loveliness. Strangely, the burn pattern from this wild fire avoided all farm land and just burned up the raw, untouched hillsides that don't directly impact the local economy. The burn mark itself is actually quite fetching to the eye. It almost looks like a high school art class pencil drawing where a low-end artistan "darkened" the shady parts a bit too much. This isn't a Thomas Kincaid painting that's for sure (however, a burn mark might make his work better).

The Ponderosa saw some action, but the closest the flames actually got to the property line was 100 yards, which for this raging fire, is the equivalent of fifty miles. There are some homes nearby where the flames actually lapped against the paint of the house enough to make it sweat. There are burn marks right up to the front door on some other homes. Thankfully, the Ponderosa looks untouched. The animals got to take a little trip during the evacuation, but are back home and don't look the least bit put out by the whole matter. The chickens were not evacuated. Apparently firemen don't like chickens either. They all survived.

It's hard to keep coming back to this place and looking at all of these familiar sites and re-experiencing their memory. The faces in town are all familiar but they feel distant as if they have continued to weather a storm that I have cowardly ran away from. There is a behavior that all small town people give to expatriated town-folk when the come back for visits. It's a sort of complacent, forced demeanor that makes the old neighbor feel welcomed back, but in reality it's just a measure to speed up the dialogue so it can end more rapidly. Small town people don't like to hear about what life is like elsewhere, most of these people left elsewhere to move here and they don't want to hear about elsewhere anymore. Elsewhere is a bad memory and now YOU are the living embodiment of that bad memory. So, if you take a moment to digest the "Hey, good to see you. What have you been up to? We never see you around anymore." what you will discover is that the towns folk are really saying is, "Hey! Go back to elsewhere. I don't want to hear about it anymore! We liked it when you left. Stop coming back." I love that about small towns.

I ate at the Book and Brew, bought some motorcycle insurance from my insurance agent, Betty Lou. I visited with a few locals in the coffee house and at lunch I flirted a bit with Robin - who isn't having any of it. I talked to my mother about purchasing the car, took a few pictures and now I am finishing this before I have to run back to Pasco for tonight's fiesta.

My heart is resting easier after my visit, but I am aware that the fire is still completely out of control in the Forgottens and could redirect it's attention at any moment. Apparently this fire has changed direction a total of nine times and is moving at a pretty heavy clip when it does decide to hang a sharp Louie. Every time it does, the firefighters have to run at top speed, in full gear which ways 100 pounds, around the fire to get back IN FRONT of the fire. Even though the bulk of the flames are ten miles south of town, it could easily find its way back without too much effort. The firemen have been working this fire for four days straight, most of them without rest and it could easily get the upper hand with one random wind gust.

It's a tough week for me feeling sorry for myself. I am surrounded by news from all over Danada about great suffering and difficulty among the readers. A good friend of mine in Canada has a 5 year old nephew with leukemia and it's making life miserable for the whole family. Another friend may have breast cancer and she is primary care giver to three members of her family that rely on her for their livelihoods. Another friend is teetering on the edge of a divorce. A whole town is suffering from smoke inhalation. Everyone I know, minus two or three people are flat broke with bills that make mine look like dollar store purchases. And all I really have to complain about is my sore fat ass and gas money for the trip. I love all of you. But it may be time to redirect our charity.

Many of my friends that are struggling right now are probably not reading this at the moment due to other things. But if you are, please know that my selfish heart does go out to you and even though I can not be with you there personally, I am with you more than you.

The true measure of strife isn't to make you suffer endlessly, but rather to make you see what your heart and soul are really made of. Savor each bite because there are no seconds. I love you all.