Living in wine country is mostly on the upside of quite happy. But, as my husband Jose has been saying lately, “there comes a time to pay the dues.” I live about six miles from Geyser Peak, in Geyserville. To look upon it, one sees God’s Country. At this point, it’s hard to think of being anywhere else. There has to be a balance to all of this, and it seems to be mid October. I believed the scientific evidence in the 60s, when we were warned about accelerated climate change, if we didn’t change our habits, so I did. Today, I’m more than frustrated that so few of us “got it” then, and are still spewing their doubts and illogical thoughts still.

Okay, so there. I had to get that off my chest.

[PHOTO: This is an image I took of Field Stone Winery, before the Kincade Fire.]


180 Degree About Face ~ Blinded by the Light

BLINDED BY THE LIGHT: This morning, on my way back from the store and nearly home, I looked ahead to the Oriental Grange in Geyserville. My turn was on a t-shaped corner, and I needed to turn left. I could see fire trucks in the parking lot straight ahead, where they stage themselves.

I thought of stopping to say something to these brave firemen, but KNEW I couldn’t. With just the thought of it, my throat closed and tears began to stream down my face. I’d have a compete break down, so I let that thought go. When I got to the corner, for which I had to turn left, the sun COMPLETELY blinded me from oncoming traffic from the right. I was forced to go right, knowing I’d have to then make a u-turn somewhere, to get back on track.

[Purchased photo]

I struggled with turning into the grange parking lot. In a flash I KNEW, even though I wasn’t going to hold it together, I still had to thank these brave souls.

I parked the car, got out, and approached a circle of over a dozen firemen, all looking straight at me. My lips quivered, my eyes were burning with tears, they were all wondering what I wanted… I stopped, facing the circle and managed to choke it out… “There aren’t enough words,” and just stood there, with a long pregnant, helpless pause. Their expressions went from wondering, to their own breakdowns of relief.

Blinded by the light… all of us. We all managed to talk about the fire, where they lived, where I live. When they found out how close I was to the source, they knew they saved me. No more words were spoken, except my sincere “thank you.”

Then one asked if they could help me with anything (so typical of these men). “Well, I could have used you all to help me clean out my refrigerator.” We all laughed, and I left them to their morning work, going back to my own.

God’s special Angles of Fire…Let’s all drink to that!

Firemen… Where would we all be without them? Calendars would never be the same (sorry, not sorry). They’re fit as a fiddle, strong as iron, and have hearts of gold. This sentiment goes for fire women, too; I just haven’t seen their calendars, yet.