Hard Rock

Just thought that was a funny title for this picture. :)

I Am Grateful For the Energy of Attraction

I have not yet written out the story (read: epic tale) of how the evil overlords (read: HOA) of our condos plan to poison my building in the (self)interest of ousting a bunch of termites at the cost of everyone's health. To them I say: In case you hadn't noticed, this is SOUTHERN CALIFORNIA ladies. Termites are a given (or so I've read/heard/experienced). You may win the battle, but you will never win the war. Best you can do is keep giving them stuff to eat outside, so live cleanly and we can all prosper.

Regardless... The Sheeple are determined to poison my home so I am packing my shit to move out for two to five days. What a colossal waste of time, but grudgingly I admit at the same time it's not a waste at all. It is an opportunity to purge and pass on the outmoded, outdated, OMG-I-didn't-realize-I-still-had-that items in my life and I should be grateful. And I would be, if there were no poison involved. Of course, if there were no poison, I would not be packing, therefore I would be playing the procrastination game just like any other day. Sometimes it sucks to be aware of your own faults.

As there are always reasons to be grateful tho, I can tell you that I am grateful to not have a job at this particular moment because it means I can pack (sort of) at my leisure. In theory, this would mean I started packing two months ago when I was first informed of this potential health hazard. In reality, it means I've once again waited until I'm up against the clock (even after getting it postponed for a month!) and I'm now going through stuff to get the most important or what will be most affected out by next weekend. Thank goodness for the last minute or nothing would ever get done around here.

Today I decided to pack my books because they're easy, which is always appealing to the eternal procrastinator. I have a few antique volumes I've gathered from various places, and this particular one that inspired me to stop and post here was Harper's Fourth Reader, copyright 1888. I've never actually read this book - received it as a gift for helping with an estate sale - but thumbing through it just now I found it is, ironically, a type of textbook published for use in a classroom back in the day when Bonsall's schoolhouse was new and shiny, and women as old as I am were spinsters with little hope of marrying before they dropped dead. I mean seriously... 42 years old and no husband? Holy crap, you must be ugly or a shrew, and aren't you even lucky to still wake up on the top side of the grass at that age?! Good luck with that.

Anyway, I thought it was amusing that after spending all that time working at Pearson putting out today's college textbooks (which contained info I learned in high school - what's up with that? Dumb it down much?), two of the volumes that snuck into my library through no effort of my own were 123-year-old textbooks themselves (I have Harper's Third Reader as well, also copyright 1888). How can people disbelieve the energy of attraction with such glaring examples?

Other things I found amusing about these books... there is a Publisher's Note in the front of each book. For one thing, I consider myself in possession of a pretty decent vocabulary, but I actually had to look up two words because I didn't know their definitions, so apparently the Readers are still good at teaching people to read a century later. They just don't make 'em like they used to.

Also, I love "antique marketing"... in an attempt to convince teachers (or so it seems) that the new Readers are the best ever, they say, "They have been prepared with special reference to the practical work of the school-room. These pages are not encumbered with useless matter." Well thank goodness for that because I'm not so sure today's textbooks can say the same. Seriously.

Another good chuckle: "...It is desirable, rather, to improve the child's intellectual capacity by giving him lessons a little in advance of his present attainments, than to stultify his understanding and insult his intelligence by a strained effort to make every exercise appear child-like and easy."

Sure wish THAT was still the policy in schools these days!

stultify |ˈstəltəˌfī|verb ( stultifies, stultifying, stultified ) [ withobj. ]1 (usu. as adj. stultifying) cause to lose enthusiasm and initiative, esp. as a result of a tedious or restrictive routine

Apparently, "lessons inculcating moral truths are of frequent occurrence. These lessons are such as will appeal at once to the child's better nature and strengthen his love for right-doing. Lessons intended to cultivate an appreciation of the wonderful and the beautiful in nature, and to introduce the pupil to a knowledge of the achievements of science and art, are given due prominence."

Would that today's learning materials inculcated more moral truths, a love for right-doing, and an appreciation for nature! Perhaps we wouldn't be destroying the planet as fast as we are.

inculcate |inˈkəlˌkāt, ˈinkəl-|verb [ with obj. ]instill (an attitude, idea, or habit) by persistent instruction
Last, the best part... the publisher actually thanks the editor, a couple instrumental people, and the teachers that contributed for pulling the book together, not the other way around.

My how times have changed.

I Am Grateful for Rockin' Awareness

A rock pile ceases to be a rock pile the moment a single man contemplates it, bearing within him the image of a cathedral.
Antoine de Saint-Exupery

I was sitting on the patio tonight looking around and thinking (yes, I do that - sit there and think or daydream without moving for hours - been that way since I was a child) when I noticed that my roommate had stacked up a few pieces of rock and debris into a mini cairn under the oleanders. While my philosophical side (Right Brain) was being impressed with his creativity and thinking what a cool idea that was, my logical side (Left Brain) went straight to my Ego to collaborate. They whispered in a remote corner of my mind...

Left Brain: Hey, did you see what Roommate did? How cool of him.

Ego: We can do it bigger and better, but we need Right Brain to make it look all creative. Don't tell Right Brain what we're up to.

Left Brain: Ok.  Wait... what? What are we up to? (Trails after Ego...)

Oh brother.

Left Brain and Ego then go to Right Brain and say, "C'mon... let's build one too! Let's be creative and make it look all zen back here on the patio!" Right Brain was all, "OK!!" and fell right into it.

I have plenty of river rock that lines a small pathway between my patio and the green common area behind my condo (thanks to Boyfriend and same said Roommate). I immediately jumped over there, picked out a few rocks and proceeded to stack them up under the oleanders to the right of Roommate's little pile. Sitting back in my chair, Right Brain was all kinds of happy. "Look what we did! Yay! Rocks are cool! That was fun!" Left Brain and Ego were over in the frontal lobe stirring up trouble tho...

Left Brain: 1... 2... 3... 4... 5... 6 rocks. (Then in the Count's voice from Sesame Street, "Ahh ahh ahh ahhhhhh...")

Ego: Ha! It's more rocks than Roommate put together! We win! We have a taller cairn! Wait, is it called a cairn?

Left Brain: I dunno. Let's go look it up on the computer. (Which we did. Yes, it is called a cairn, but I could've sworn there was some other zennish Tibetan word for this kind of thing. If there is, I couldn't find it. Oh well.)

Ego (back on the patio admiring our handiwork): Awesome! Geez, when is Roommate gonna be home so we can show him we outdid him? Silly surfers.

Left Brain: Six rocks... hmmm... I'll bet we could get one more on there.

Ego: Yeah! Yeah! Let's put one more! Then it will be EVEN BIGGER!

Right Brain leans in: Six is good, but seven is better because it's a cooler number overall plus then you have one rock for each direction; north, south, east, west, above, below, and within.

Left Brain: Fine. Get one more.

We get one more and manage after a couple attempts to balance it on top.

Ego: WOO HOO! We now have seven! No one can beat us! We are the best rock pilers ever!

Right Brain: Uhh, guys? Does the pile look a little... I dunno... too orderly or something?

Ego: What? NO! It's awesome! Shut your synapse over there!

Left Brain: Of course it's orderly. All the rocks are nice and uniform and most are flat so easily stacked...

Right Brain: Yeah, exactly. It was EASY. Took like ten minutes tops. That means it was just winning a stupid contest (a non-existent one at that)... what did we learn from the experience? Nothing. Aren't we a little more creative than that? Shouldn't this inspire more thought? Reflection? Something? There is more to this than just putting one rock on top of the other.

Ego: Shut up Right Brain! You don't know what you're talking about. This rock pile is an indication of how amazingly spiritual we are and it's BIGGER than Roommate's. That's all that counts. Wait until he sees.

Right Brain: Yeah, I dunno. I just think it's not very CREATIVE. I mean it's really rather BORING and predictable all stacked with the biggest on the bottom and the smallest on the top - is that an indication of who we are? Boring and predictable? Gods, I hope not. Ours looks like a child did it.

Ego: Does NOT!

Right Brain: (Glances over at Roommate's cairn.) Yeah, ours may be bigger, but his is definitely better because it's creative. It was inspired. You know how he is... he sits out here thinking just like we do. He was probably out here looking around and got inspired. Look at it... his has different materials (not just the river rock) and they're all different shapes and sizes and stuff. Definitely better than ours, even if it is smaller. It's more thought-full. More is not always better.

Ego: Yes it is.

Left Brain (looking disdainfully at Ego): True, Right Brain. I hadn't thought of that. I do like that ours is logical and uniform but it's not nearly as creative as Roommate's - ours is definitely boring. Perhaps we should spice it up a bit.

Ego: Gods, you can be a drag Right Brain.

Right Brain goes and picks out other, differently-shaped rocks from the pathway and tries to balance them. It's much harder and takes a lot longer. Right Brain then tries using a twig in the stack, tumbling the whole thing many, many times over.

Ego: This SUCKS now. Thanks Right Brain.

Right Brain: Does not suck! It's supposed to be meditative! Shut up while I keep trying to balance this!

Ego: YOU shut up. I'm off to pout.

Left Brain: Here... try it this way... no that way... crap. Try this... no, that... ok, do this again... crap. An engineer would probably have this figured out in 10 seconds. Gods. Let's give up.

Right Brain: No! I'm having fun here. If it's not seven rocks tall it's not the end of the world.

Left Brain: But you HAVE to use all seven rocks because seven is a cool number and we already HAVE seven rocks!

Right Brain: I don't HAVE to do anything. We'll see what comes out.

Silence for a good 20 minutes.

Ego leans in: Are you all ZEN now, idiot?

Right and Left Brain: SHHHHHH!!!

 Many, many failed attempts later...

Right Brain: Ok, I think there was probably nothing wrong with the original orderly pile. Maybe that IS just who we are deep down. I dunno. I'm okay with it being orderly but maybe we can put the twig on top like some kind of antennae. Yeah, that's it. It's a Snail Control Tower instructing all the snails in the bushes who can go on which slime trail so there are no accidents.

Ego: You are RETARDED.

Left Brain: Okay, we'll do the orderly pile but we still have these other few rocks left over and of course we can't just throw them back because we already picked them up for a purpose.

Right Brain: Ok, we'll build a second cairn next to Roommate's and leave the first orderly Snail Control Tower pile over here. That way they're all used AND we get to show two different sides of us.

Left Brain: I'm good with that.

Right Brain: I don't remember playing like this since we were really little. This is kinda cool. Who knew rocks were so fun! I'll bet if you post this on the blog people will think it might be time to look into a good asylum for us.

Left Brain: Ha! Could be.

We build another cairn next to Roommate's with the remaining rocks, plus we add in a piece of bark that we had tried to use to rebuild the Snail Tower.

Right Brain: That one is awesome too! And it doesn't look nearly as boring as the Snail Control Tower. It's about the same height as Roommate's too. Yay for unity and like minds!

Left Brain: Yeah, that's pretty cool. Can we sit and think again now?

Right Brain: Ok, I'm just going to admire the handiwork close up for one more minute.

Ego (sneaking back in): You know, there's a couple chips of concrete laying there. That would be a third material. Might add something cool.

Right Brain: Don't fix what ain't broke.

Ego: I'm not trying to fix anything! Just think it would be cool on top. They're different sizes and shapes and stuff.

Right Brain: Ok fine.

Ego: (Smug grin)

Right Brain: There. Two concrete chips on top. Now it's done.

We sit back down on the chair.

Ego: HA. The "creative" one is two concrete chips taller than Roommate's.

Right AND Left Brain: SHUT UP EGO.

~~~~~~~ <3 <3 <3 ~~~~~~~

If you want to see a true master of rock stacking, check out Jim Needham from Carmel, CA. :)

I Am Grateful For Sunsets

For every afternoon in summer when I think surely I will die of heatstroke due to my western-facing windows and a condo without central air conditioning, I get the MOST AWESOME SUNSETS EVER in winter, and the ability to keep the drapes open for the entire thing, while the last rays warm my bedroom for the evening ahead.

(This pic was actually taken on my birthday, Dec 30, 2010, at Oceanside beach, but you get the idea. I am often too busy watching the sunset to take pics of each one!)

What's In A Name?

I'm proofreading a book on Oceanography. I love doing this stuff because you learn inane bits of trivia that make you much more interesting than you really are at random parties. For instance...

Early Mediterranean cultures envisioned that marginal bodies of water similar to the Mediterranean Sea surrounded most of the continents. The name “Earth” describes the portion of the planet that is inhabited by man in spite of the fact that the majority of the planet’s surface is covered by water. Our planet was named before ocean exploration began.

Which says to me that if fish had developed the ability to talk before they could walk, the third rock from the Sun would be called Water and perhaps Mars would be Earth. And they would've all drowned before evolving onto land due to an inability to keep their mouths shut. Oh wait...

Terminal Velocity

I am dog sitting in Rainbow, CA at a house that sits on top of a large hill surrounded by grapefruit and orange trees. It’s very peaceful up here. Adding to the awesomeness is an enormous front porch that looks out over an incredible view. I am so grateful to have this change of scenery, and get paid to be here too!

The owners are into bird watching so there are feeders all along the front porch and if you sit in the large, comfy wicker chairs you’ll get buzzed by hummingbirds and orioles as they come in looking for a snack. The hummers are especially fearless and will come right up to check you out face to face.

Hummingbird food is sticky, sugary stuff, as you might know, and yesterday when I went outside to enjoy the sun I saw that ants had amassed to form an amazing number of marching lines up the banisters, across the roof, and down onto one of the feeders. It looked like the entire hill had come to party. They were everywhere! (I wonder if that’s what aliens think when they look at our planet… “OMG! They’re EVERYWHERE! Get the hose!”) The second big red restaurant had no such problem.

I found it especially interesting to see that inside one of the plastic “flowers” the ants had actually lined up like cars around a lake and were gulping it down (one would have to assume since you can’t actually see an ant gulp). I wish I had a better camera for these kinds of things. They looked like DNA all side by side like they were.

After a quick assessment of the two feeders, I realized the reason one looked like IHOP after church was that the owner neglected to fill the little upside-down umbrella at the top of the hanger, which creates a water barrier the ants won’t cross. Amazing piece of technology, really — so simple and so effective. A three-inch moat that keeps thousands of ants from being thieves. Maybe Arizona should try that. Oh wait…

I retrieved a glass of water to remedy the situation. As I poured it into the umbrella (apologizing for my “act of God”) there was panic, confusion, and drowning. A few good swimmers made it to the edge. I realized that those stuck on the part of the feeder under the umbrella would have no way off the fixture. I wondered if they would just wander around until they died of starvation or what. How long would it take those with an escape route to pack their things and go home? Would there be stories of ant heroism on the Local Insect News that night? Would web sites be set up to list the missing ants and hopefully connect them back with their families? Would this go down in history as the Great Flood of Saturday? What’s the average ant lifespan anyway? Would they even have time to do all that?

Then I realized that all the ants stuck on the wrong side of the water could easily escape if they had the mind to. I knew this because I remembered there is no terminal velocity* for an ant. Well, there IS technically since “terminal velocity” means that fastest rate at which an object will fall – for ants it’s 4 MPH. (You’re welcome.) What I mean is ants don’t die from falling off high places like people do. Actually no one dies from the falling, it’s the sudden stop at the end that gets you. An ant, however, has so little mass that it can hit the ground from any height and walk away unscathed (or perhaps with a slight headache). No parachute required.

All they had to do to return to safety was LET GO.

Imagine that.


~*~*~*~

*A 180-pound man has an approximate terminal velocity of 125 MPH if his arms and legs are spread out. If he's rolled into a ball, the T.V.** is 200 MPH due to less drag. (No, that does not mean homosexuals fall slower. :P)

Does the soul have mass?

**Perhaps "TV" is also the fastest method to fall out of consciousness. Coincidence?

Bibbity Bobbity Boo

I am in Texas visiting my friend, M, who is also Godmother to my daughter. We've known each other since high school and are great friends. M has a toddler that will be baptized tomorrow and she has asked me to be her son's Godmother. The difference here is that Katy (my daughter) was never officially baptized or christened - M's Godmother title is more an acknowledgement of our friendship and a definition of her role in my daughter's life rather than the more traditional mantle she's asking me to accept (not that my asking her was any less sincere!).

M grew up Catholic (her husband is a non-practicing Episcopalian) but has since sort of renounced the church after some less-than-stellar experiences with the people involved. My own beliefs fall far, far away from any organized religion, and most particularly the one she is recovering from.

The way I understand it, a traditional Godmother is responsible for making sure the child grows up with knowledge of (or following) the parents' beliefs if the parents are - for whatever reason (usually death) - unable to do that themselves. I chose M as Katy's Godmother because we grew up with very similar family values and I knew that even if our beliefs fell on opposite sides of the fence, she would most importantly try to instill the good values and manners we were raised with in my daughter. She has proved on many occasions to be a valuable backup voice in guiding Katy through some childhood issues, so these are no small shoes to fill despite her size 5 feet!

I was curious to know why she chose me tho since she knows how I feel about Catholicism, and I'm thinking she and her husband are probably viewing my role from a more classic perspective. She replied, "You have the kind of connection with nature and God that we're looking for." (If she read my blog, she might add "Despite that previous link.") This really blew me away. For one thing, it feels like a huge confirmation of a bond to the Universe that I strive for in everything I do, but often feel like I fall short on (as if we're not all entwined with the Divine, but you get my drift). For a second thing, to have my beliefs accepted so unconditionally in such an official way (even if it's not laid out for everyone else to see) means a lot to me. It had more of an impact than she probably intended because defending myself against people who just don't get it (or dont accept it) has unfortunately become the rule, so to have someone ask me to be something important in their (and their son's) life BECAUSE of what I believe is a strangely foreign concept in my head, albeit a good one.

I asked her to expand on her statement so I was sure we were on the same page and she gave specific examples that on several of our hikes in days long past, I've taken tobacco along to offer the Earth in gratitude (a Native American ritual others have laughed at or called me "weird" for - honestly I was impressed she even remembered that as I try to keep it on the down low after so much ridicule from others); she has noted (apparently) that wild animals seem to have an affinity for my presence; and she cited my ability to remember specific trees in a forest on different outings (they are like people to me, they all look different and some personalities stand out). In her opinion (and her husband's), I suppose that adds up to the correct formula for being at a certain spiritual peace with our planet and All. Which is cool!

Anyway, I wasn't writing this to boast, I'm giving background because of the neatest thing that happened today. We were in the backyard this afternoon - M was on poop patrol and I was playing ball with the dog to tire him out. We came across a frog that was investigating (probably more like terrorizing) a major ant population way out at the end of the yard by a small gathering of trees. I haven't seen a frog in ages so I stood there talking to him for a minute, and watching him use his hind leg to fling the ants off his eyes when they got too annoying. He was really cute - about the size of my palm. Not really out of the ordinary, right? Just Mr. Toad out there being himself and a crazy girl making conversation with Nature (out loud since no one was watching).

The weird part is that much later this evening, I took the dog out again to pee and when we came back in, our amphibious buddy hopped right into the house under the dog's feet! At first I thought the dog had tracked a leaf or something in so I bent down to pick it up, but when it hopped away I realized it was my greenish-brown friend from way down in the back of the yard! Must've taken him all day to come up to the patio and wait by the door (it's a big yard).

I shooed him back outside quickly (with apologies) cuz I was afraid the dog (who is a large German Shepherd) or one of the many people now in the house (including two toddlers) would trample him if he panicked. Wildlife moves fast when spooked, which results in the humans getting spooked, then the energy level spikes out of control and bad things happen. Lucky for us tho, he turned around and hopped right back out the door in front of my hands. I regretted not following him outside tho. I mean he DID spend all that time coming up there to say hi! What a crappy way to treat a guest! I didn't mean to be rude. I wished I'd gotten a picture of him.

I poked my head back out a bit later, but it was too dark to see if he was still around. Oh well. He probably had froggier things to do. I made the joke to M's mother-in-law that maybe I should've kissed him and he would've turned into a prince. (Except I already found a prince that I like a lot - that's a whole 'nother blog tho!)

Tonight after we all retired to our respective rooms I looked up frog medicine because part of my beliefs is that when animals hop into your path like that, you need to hear their message. Jamie Sams' Medicine Cards gives a good basis to start understanding Mother Nature's missives. I knew frogs meant cleansing (they bring the rain to cleanse the Earth), but I did not remember that "...all water rites belong to Frog, including initiations by water." Well isn't that interesting since baptisms are exactly that, aren't they?

Once I read that, I realized he wasn't here to visit me, he came to bless the event. (How conceited do I feel now?! Sheesh. :( ) I can't wait to pass the message on to M tomorrow tho. Makes me feel a lot better too about participating in a ceremony I couldn't really relate to until now. I just love how things like that get explained even when I'm not asking a question directly. Divine alchemy is awesome.

I clicked on a couple more Google results about frogs (what did we EVER do without Google?!), and found more amusing tidbits that appealed to the ever-present child in me. One link offered this:

Frog is also strongly associated with magic and transformation. Beginning life as an egg, it becomes a polliwog, then a frog. It is thus a reminder to us that life is a miracle of change and transformation.

This message is particularly embodied in the story of the Frog Prince. In the Scottish version of this story, a queen who was ill could only be healed by a drink from the well of true water. When each of her three daughters tried to get this water, a monstrous frog refused to allow them access unless they agreed to marry him. The youngest daughter agreed and was able to heal her mother. She also later discovered that her unattractive bridegroom was actually a prince.

M's husband's family has strong Scottish genes, as do I, so this really caught my attention. I'm familiar with the tale of the Frog Prince, but I didn't know it was of Scottish origin. (And of course everything we read on the Interwebs is absolutely the truth! haha) I did another Google search to see if I could find the whole story in its native format, but got sidetracked by the Wikipedia entry about it. From that entry I clicked another link that explains that the Brothers Grimm adapted their frog fable from "The Well of the World's End," which, when you read what THAT is by clicking here, you'll realize is actually the origins of the Cinderella story (and what is my most favoritest fairy tale evar? You got THAT right!).

I thought the relation to Cinderella was even quirkier because before I came to Texas, I asked M what would be an appropriate gift for her son on this occasion. She suggested a biblical story. I was like "HAVE YOU MET ME? Where would I find such a thing? In the fiction section of Barnes & Noble?" I could hear her amused sigh two states away, and she said she was sure I could find something, and when I did, would I please write a dedication in the front. I already knew what to get actually - Neale Donald Walsh wrote a great book called The Little Soul and the Sun, which bridges the gap between our beliefs quite nicely, so that's what I bought. On the title page I wrote a brief note and signed it "Your Fairy Godmother" because by jove, I've always been partial to the Fey, and if I get to be a Godmother I want to be a magical one! (And HELLO... favoritest story includes Godmother of the Fairy sort!)

So what is the moral of this lengthy yarn? For one, everything is tied together no matter what we believe, and sometimes even more so BECAUSE of what we believe. For two, everything eventually comes full circle. And really, how awesome is the perspective when you make it all the way around the entire twisted sphere and a bigger picture comes into focus?

Let's just hope I don't accidentally turn anyone into a toad tomorrow at the ceremony.

Got water?

Yesterday my daughter calls me from the driveway and says, "Come out here and look at this." I go outside and there's a huge oddly-colored cloud hovering over the area. I agreed that it did not look normal, but we couldn't figure out what it was by osmosis, so I went back inside.

As I walked in, I noticed the sunlight streaming in through the glass doors onto my white papasan chair was literally RED. Since when does natural sunlight look like something from a Steven King movie? Nothing freaky or eerie about that at all! I mean seriously, the sun is always the color of blood, right? WTF?

I was a little freaked at this so I went to the window to verify that our fireball in the sky had not collapsed into supernova or that aliens had not replaced our primary lightbulb with some kind of solar compact florescent. I noted that the cloud from the front of the house actually extended all the way over and across the back of the complex, then funneled down to a V on the horizon over by Camp Pendleton Marine Base. The brain latched onto the only answer: smoke. LOTS. TONS. Again, WTF?

Having witnessed the World Trade Center's demise firsthand, I have to admit this brought my heart up to my throat a little more quickly than most people probably would've reacted. (Funny how I keep thinking that event didn't affect me much.) My brain immediately panicked, listing off things such as nuclear attack, air raids, bombs, etc., and I wondered if I should even continue breathing.

Since I have no tv service (because I choose not to), I had to rely on the internet for information. I called Katy back as I tripped up the stairs to find out what was going on.

CNN had a small banner at the top announcing a brush fire at Camp Pendleton. Not much further information, but at least it gave me some keywords to search with. According to local news sources, the fire started only an hour and a half before, and was covering several acres, but was not in an area that threatened any homes or people. Still... wow. My logical brain pointed out if there was that much smoke from one small fire, do the math for the San Diego fires that made national news last year! Holy crap!

I watched a news video online taken from a helicopter. At first they give you the wide shot, then zoom in a bit. I'm thinking, hey, that doesn't look TOO bad. I mean, how big of an area is that? Probably not that large. The Marines surely have enough trucks to cover it.

Then they show another helicopter below them coming in to drop water (or something) on the fire. It looks about the size of a gnat against a field of flames. Perspective is an awesome thing.

I kept tabs on the news through the rest of the afternoon and evening because it was only about 10 miles from our house, and I remembered hearing how fast the flames traveled in 2007. Fortunately, there didn't seem to be much to report.

That evening I had a date in Oceanside. I took 76 due West. It was after dark. As I rounded one of the corners, my eyes caught the enormous orange unnatural glow beneath a heavy ceiling of clouds. I've never in my life seen such a thing. It was both awesome and terrifying at the same time.

My poor date called about this time and I spewed my incredulity over the cell phone to him (way to make a first impression!), trying to explain in between gasps and babbling that this was my first fire season here in San Diego and I'd never seen a brush fire before. I don't blame him for laughing at me.

I so wanted to stop and take pictures because I had my camera in my purse, but I was already late so I managed to restrain myself. However, on my way back a few hours later I definitely took the opportunity to drive up to a place where I could get a good look at the goings on. Even from a couple miles away you could see the movement of flames licking the air in a frenzied dance down the hillside. I called Katy and told her to get dressed because I was bringing her back out to see this since I prayed it was the ONLY time EVER that we would get to witness a wildfire so close to our house.

By the time I retrieved her and we made it back to a good spot to view the damage, the fire had made it almost to the bottom of the hill. I read later that the wind actually shifted and helped the firefighters contain the blaze. Thank goodness, because it was definitely headed for the nearest community.

Katy and I tried to get pics, but they were mostly blurry. I found the following on www.signonsandiego.com and they are a much better representation of what we saw. God bless professional photographers. May I someday join their ranks. It was just so amazing and mesmerizing, and at the same time I hope I never see that again.

So in my four short months as a SoCal resident, I've already experienced an earthquake and a brush fire. I feel like I am no longer a California Virgin. Perhaps these are the hazing rituals of the Cosmos... or maybe Mother Nature is trying to make up for us missing the autumn colors up North right now. I'd much rather She contain it to beautiful but harmless leaves. The front row seat to Hell's Concert of the Year would not be my first choice of venue.