Controlled Burns, Station Fire

Views from my backyard. Some first day back home and back to school.

Respiratory Refuge at Huntington Beach

Our window unit air conditioner apparently cannot run without sucking in the thick, acrid smoke from outside. It kind of filters out the ash, but so what. The wild fire had doubled in size, the smoke/ash were way worse than before, and we hadn't slept a wink. Respiratory distress had joined general physical discomfort and exhaustion. With predicted temperatures over 100 degrees and humidity in the teens, we fled in search of breathable, cooler air. And found it in Huntington.


We'd been meaning to check out the dog beach, anyway. It's a very popular spot, much more crowded than the places we usually go. Gentle waves close to the shore (breaking farther out), so a good swimming area for Violet and us. Perfect weather and water temperature. Fantastic place to watch surfers. And to spot fake boobs, which, of course, isn't difficult. I guess it's an Orange County thing — or pair of things.


It was a little surreal to be about fifty miles away from our house where the air and weather were gorgeous and to look back and see the smoke, "our" smoke, billowing on the horizon. That's what the picture below shows. (It kind of looks like the smoke is coming from the oil refinery, but that stuff is nearby in Huntington. The smoke is over Mount Wilson, back by our house. Sorry I don't have a better picture.)


Our hotel was actually in Costa Mesa on the other side of the 405. Considering our budget and dog-friendly needs, it was a very nice place, but when we got back there, everything on TV was horrible news about the fire. Mom & Dad insisted we stay in the hotel at least another night, and it turned out that we needed to. Even with nice accommodations, the time wasn't really a vacation because we were constantly aware of having fled, afraid of what was going on at home, worried about the expense, and most of the time, doing school work on our computers, which we had lugged with us out of necessity. I was kind of freaking out about my first class meetings of the fall semester — would I be able to go back to the house for books, clothes, etc. before my Monday class?

The Fire Burns On

The fire up at Angeles Crest continues (link: http://abclocal.go.com/kabc/livenow?id=6984738). Last night we got an automated phone message from the Glendale Police & Fire Dept. with info. about the fire and the evacuation of hundreds of homes in neighboring La Cañada. We were assured that we were not in immediate danger of evacuation. It seems like they really have it together. I'm impressed.

Then at 2:30 a.m, we had an unrelated medical emergency. I didn't have my camera on the way to the E.R. (who thinks to bring their camera to the E.R.?), but it was crazy to see the glowing embers in V-shapes all along the south side (our side) of the mountain range. The fire had gotten a lot closer, and apparently, they really can't do the aerial water dumps and so forth at night. In the beams of our headlights as we sat at what seemed like every stoplight on the empty streets between here and Montrose, bits of ash drifted like snow flurries. Eerie.

Things were resolved at hospital. Things should be alright. But obviously, last night was considerably more traumatic than anticipated, and sleep was lost. By the time we returned home, the smoke was so thick that we had to turn off the air conditioning despite the heat. At seven, when I let Violet out to pee, the whole sky around our house was the color of orange sherbet. The air felt thick. Ash was settling on my plants, which are sadly suffering from the dryness, heat, and my efforts at water conservation. I'm not sure that my newly potted Australian Tree Fern is going to make it.

These pictures are from between noon and about two o'clock today. The smoke has started drifting away from us more, so you can kind of stand to breathe. Some people we see are wearing masks, though.


Above: view of my house from across the street. Below: view from my back yard over the rear fence.


Finally, below, our friendly neighborhood Scientologists catch this view when visiting the Mission of the Foothills Dianetics Center in downtown Montrose (the white and green building). We were on our way back from a delicious lunch at La Cabanita, which helped ease some recent tensions, when I grabbed this shot.

Wild Fire at Angeles Crest (& a Flaming Convocation)

Bill Viola (link: http://www.billviola.com/) spoke today at the Otis faculty convocation. Insights from the Tibetan Book of the Dead, the Buddha, and the Dali Lama. He showed us a piece from his collaboration with the Los Angeles Philharmonic on the opera Tristan and Isolde. It's a video, normally projected 30 feet high (but for us, about 5 feet high), that represents the last images in a dying man's mind's eye. (Viola said "mind's eye." I feel uncomfortable using it.) A figure is silhouetted against a massive wall of flames, falls forward into a body of water, and the flames gradually morph into rippling water.

Meanwhile, there's this wild fire blazing back at home, just a jog over in Angeles Crest National Forest (link: http://latimesblogs.latimes.com/lanow/2009/08/angeles-national-forest-blaze-threatening-ranger-station.html). The fire changed directions since yesterday and is therefore heading this way, threatening a Rangers' Station and nearing peoples' homes. After dinner and Mad Men (we've started the series from the beginning via Netflix), BP, Violet, and I went for a walk. The sight of the smoke and fire kept me at the verge of tears, and not just because smoke burns your eyes. Those helicopters, planes, and tankers look like tiny gnats. The word that comes to mind is "futile" when I see how puny a literal ton of water appears up there, but I know that firefighters routinely contain these things. It never seems easy. Fighting. Nevertheless, I feel confident that we'll be safe—that they'll stop the fire before it gets this far. This kind of thing definitely makes me get the whole heroic fireman image.

As for the pictures, first is our house at dusk with smoke. Awed by the smoke alone.


Next, we crossed the street to see the flames have definitely advanced. That's our green house. Not it's most flattering angle.


Walked two blocks north to our main drag, Foothill Blvd. View across Von's grocery store parking lot. You can see the light from one of the planes as well as what I think is a firetruck or tanker.


Below, Von's again, but a view that better shows the visible width of the fire. The other pictures don't show the flames at the west (left) end.


At the intersection of Foothill and Pennsylvania Ave. Dad will be happy to see that there's a dentist on the corner. (He notes that dentists always seem to have corner offices here.)


The air quality, as you can imagine, is terrible. If we didn't know better, we'd think our next-door neighbor's house was burning to the ground. (BP, I'm biting my lip.)

Malibu Monkey

At Leo Carillo State Beach, Violet just can't keep it together. She's barks, for the duration, "Throw it again! Throw it! Throw it! Throw! Throw! Throw!"

Washer/Drier Area Before & After

Before: Summer 2008, we had already disposed of the rusty old stinky-water filled washer and its mate. We had not yet broken the kitchen window while gutting the kitchen — while pulling down the old ceiling sheetrock, to be precise.


After: New kitchen window. New plumbing/electrical. Paint. Water & energy efficient appliances, and just completed, the enclosure, shown here with doors open. . . then closed. It took a year of procrastination plus a week of labor, but we're thrilled with the result. (It's not the indoor laundry room ya'll mansion-dwellers are used to, but this'll work for our situation.)

The Getty Center's Gardens

BP and I made a nice Saturday of The Getty Center. Even though there's no shortage of great art there, my favorite parts are the gardens, especially the Central Garden designed by artist Robert Irwin and the cactus garden pictured above. Nice view of the ocean, too.


Left: Succulent arrangements galore. Inspiration for my own. Center: The center of the Central Garden features an azalea maze, which appears to float in the water feature. Wonder if ducks get lost The Shining-style? Here you see the surrounding flower garden in the fore. Right: Aloe plants that are a tiny bit larger than my own (in the cactus garden).








Above: A thorny-leafed fellow I intend to identify. (Later: Not having much luck.) Below, a beautiful, mysterious flowering vine. (Later: It's Delechampia dioscoreifolia, called "purple wings" or "Costa Rican butterfly vine.")



You know my interest in snails. This is climbing Snail Vine (Vigna caracalla). Nice, huh?



Finally, a pleasure to see Maryland's State Flower, the Black-Eyed Susan, flourishing here.

Some Fruits & Veggies

As a vegetable gardener, I'm quite the beginner, so everything's a thrill. Here's my first California bell pepper. Same pepper pictured above and below (ripening). I'm going to wait a while longer before I pick it.




Above: The Cherokee Purple Heirloom tomatoes often have strange appearances, but they're perfection when you slice them. Below: The Beefmaster tomatoes can do some funny things, too. Here's the bottom of one.


And for comparison, an Heirloom above with Beefmaster below. Typical coloring difference. Size varies. (Not pictured: My patio tomatoes. They're not as entertaining. They're the most tart and mid-sized — about the size of your typical vine-ripe grocery store tomatoes or of the Roma kind.)



Our avocado tree doesn't have any fruit yet, but here's a honkin' specimen from the Montrose Harvest Market. At first, I didn't want such a jumbo avocado, thinking the texture or flavor would be compromised, but no way! I've never had a butterier, more perfect tasting avocado in my life. Before I lived here, I never knew they made 'em so huge.

Most Awful, Gross, Hideous Smog

Yuck! We could see it drifting in from the southwest over downtown Los Angeles and Long Beach. Worst I've ever seen.


P.S. Although the smog can be pretty bad, it appears that this was in part smoke from a 40-acre wildfire burning down where Glendale and Eagle Rock meet near the 134 intersection with the 2. The details: http://www.firefighternation.com/forum/topics/firefighters-contain-glendale.

Second (and Third-to-be) Generation Apple Snails

Above: July 30. Two of the "babies," born right here in the Pond of the Pauls, now walnut-sized, and as it would appear, mature. Doin' their thing. I've counted five snails in this generation. Boy, how they grow! And eat! (Mason's a camera hog.)

Below: They were at it for three days. One just crawls around like nothing's going on and the other, well, piggy-backs. He must be the male. ;)



Above: One of these guys on July 17, almost half the size he is now.



July 31, already, massive egg casing! One of three laid overnight. Another of them below. (Note the spider above it, doing what, I don't know.) The third, not shown here, was the smallest. Jeez, these guys waste no time.


Below: Last night (August 3, 2:35 AM), Violet woke me up to go outside. I went out to turn off the scarecrow so she wouldn't get blasted and caught this gal in the egg-laying act. I didn't know that the eggs come out one at a time in a single file line as if on a conveyor belt. But it makes sense. (Photo by flashlight.)




Above: This morning. Context shot. Egg casing complete. This batch is unlikely to survive because it's in the direct sunlight and it's been baking hot. (The little ones need to stay moist but not wet while in the egg.)

Below: The completed egg casing. Wowaa! I'd say this is 300 eggs. Laid one . . . at . . . a . . . time!

Doe a Deer at Deukmejian

Finally, camera was with me when we saw the deer. Two does and two fawn.