Fire Season

No surprise, I knew fire season was coming and began organizing this year’s Go-Bag ─ just in case Little Mountain has its annual blaze.

What did surprise me was that one of the fires is carrying my name.

An odd name for a fire, thought I; and not sure if I should feel honored or appalled, I decided on being amused. No one was harmed by the Shirley fire, no one was displaced, no property destroyed so I posted the photo to facebook, with the caption “It wasn’t me. I swear” and got a good laugh out the reactions.

Then later, curious to know how a fire received such a simple name, I googled and learned 1)"wildfire names are created on the spot when the blaze begins ... a geographical location, local landmark, street, lake, mountain, peak, etc." or 2 "named by the dispatch center that sends the first responders to the fire, though sometimes they are named by the first firefighters on the scene".

Interesting, and inasmuch as I am not a location, "Shirley" must be the first responder/firefighter on the scene.

Crossing my fingers that Little Mountain doesn’t go up this year and, if it does, it’s handled quickly ─ we’re not ordered to evacuate. However, worst case scenario this year is a quandary.

Worst case scenario, in past years, has been to throw the go-bag in the car and wait out the danger in a hotel. However, in this Covid-infected 2020, a hotel is not an option, and I’d rather live in the car than bunk with either daughter. Twin 2 has a wife, stepdaughter, a dog, mood swings (menopause?). Twin 1 has no pets, but is doing that work on skid row and has her volunteer team coming in/out of her apartment ─ both situations bringing in God knows what kind of germs, so no.

That leaves granddaughter. She doesn’t have a dog, she has a cat ─ no pet is preferable, but I can tolerate a cat.

Sorry readers. I don’t mean to offend animal lovers. It’s just that I’ve not been a pet person since that incident with my mom and my dog Skippy ─ where we moved, Skippy did not move with us, and mom said she gave him to the butcher to be turned into ground meat.

Granddaughter owes me LARGE and now married to that rich white boy, living at the beach, professing to love me “so much” appreciating my “unconditional love” (all of which she expounded recently in a thank you note) ─ and little does she know it’s not unconditional at all. I just suck-it-up, do what spirit prompts me to do.

At any rate, granddaughter would be my option before opting to wait the danger out in the car and, if she’s not amendable, then I know to cut that spot out of my life once and for all, and the car it is.

So this year’s fire disaster plan in place, it’s onwards, upwards, with fingers crossed.

Word on the complex is the resident diagnosed with Covid has passed away. Word also on the complex is someone has moved into Nosey’s vacant unit.

I’ve seen no one coming/going, the blinds are shut tight, the unit looks deserted, but Next Door Neighbor tells me she’s seen lights on at night, someone going in during the day.

Time will tell.

I’ve been keeping an eye on the progress of that new senior complex, since last year, when first seeing a sign go up that it was to be built.

Last time I was in the area was middle of June and the building looked to be completed and about ready for occupancy.

Problem is ... it looks like a Plantation, and doesn’t appear to have open air access which, with Covid being airborne, living in a box with an elevator, doors opening up into a hallway isn't preferable. Plus, it’s restricted to those with extremely low incomes ─ 62 and over of age; single adult annual income of $15,000 to $31,000.

A box, that looks like a planation, housing the poor and elderly, but poor/elderly are desperate. I learned this week 500 have submitted applications to be considered for tenancy, 250 have been chosen in a lottery.

I'm thinking/hoping future senior housing construction will take into consideration how this pandemic spreads in close quarters and be more like what we have here ─ individual little homes, opening out into fresh air and sunshine.

We don’t have the best management/maintenance here, but it's not the worst and, looking at reviews of the management group staffing the new complex, seeing all the complaints at their other locations, it's like Nurse Ratched used to treat us; but at least the only complaint we now have is management/maintenance not giving a damn but, in this post Covid world, the fact it’s not a box with an elevator and hallway, we each have individual fresh air access, outside is grass, flowers, trees, well-maintained, is a tradeoff I can live with.

I’m staying until they tell me my income exceeds the requirements, kick me to the curb, or a fire on Little Mountain drives me out.