I never really understood the term "fire storm" until this week. We had the "perfect" fire storm here in San Diego. The weather, high winds, and draught conditions combined against us in an apolcalyptic way. Sunday afternoon the sun turned orange and the east wind brought all-too-familiar ash - signaling wildfires in the area. Listening to the news, we learned fires were raging in the Ramona area. We were concerned for Katie and George, who live in Ramona. They evacuated that night, moving in with George's brother in La Mesa. We went to bed Sunday night to howling winds, but with a sense that the fire was far from us.
Monday morning we found ourselves under mandatory evacuation. Ironically, I had spent the previous Saturday manning a booth at the local town council's Emergency Preparedness Fair. I went home with new resolve to prepare more thoroughly for this kind of event - having spent several hours telling others how to do it. But of course I put it off. We were fortunate to have time to pack all the cars and leave - and to have somewhere to go. We spent Monday and Monday night at Roger's folks' house in Pt. Loma and returned to our house Tuesday morning even though the evacuation orders had not yet been lifted. The fires swept by a few miles north of us. Watching the blaze on local news, I saw live footage of the fire literally raining down on neighborhoods nearby. We feel grateful to be home, thankful for the four walls around us with only a bit of grit to clean up. Thanks for all your prayers in our behalf.
