the id, the ego, & the single misfiring brain cell

The authorities announced at today's press conference that all areas north of Hardy Road in our area had been reverted to "pre-evacuation" status. Michelle and I went out there around 2pm, stopping at the nearest fire station for heavy duty bags to unload our spoiled food. We had to approach the house from the north in order to avoid the burned and burning areas. The fire department had been through twice, as evident from the tape they'd tied to the gate and mailbox to mark the areas they'd double-checked (for fires or other safety hazards). 

The lights were on when we drove up. That was a great sign. We didn't know how long they'd been on, so while I went down to close the gate so Coffee could run free for a bit, Mich fetched some Vicks Vaporub. (If you've ever emptied a fridge of spoiled food, you'll appreciate this touch.)

We checked all the doors and windows first, of course. Everything was exactly as we'd left it, with the exception of the gate to the dog pen being left open. By the time we were ready to approach the fridge, I'd had time to think about it. It seemed strange indeed that the house smelled...well, normal. Nothing was wrong. 

I forewent the Vicks and opened the fridge. There was no smell. As a matter of fact...everything was just as we'd left it. I sniffed the yogurt (which had been there a while before we left, anyway), and it was fine. The milk had not even gone bad. 

Apparently, we were in that lucky group who not only got to keep our home and property, but whose electricity had been out only a couple of hours, at best. We closed the fridge and put the trash bags back in the car. 

Mich watered her vegetables and flowers, which have held up well, then cleaned off the porch. I grabbed some socks and tennis shoes. We loaded Coffee back into the car, took the trash bags back to the fire station, and came back to Chris'. 

We talked briefly of moving back in now, but Black Hills Energy has cut off the natural gas to our area until the county says it's safe, so we have no stove and, most importantly, no hot water. Otherwise, though? 

We're the luckiest bitches you'll ever meet, and don't you think we don't know it. 

My thanks to the fire departments (civilian and military) and security professionals (also from the El Paso County Sheriff's office to the National Guard) and all the various agencies who worked together from the moment the fire was discovered Tuesday afternoon (shortly after 1pm, I think) to get the fire under control, save as many homes as possible, and protect the evacuated areas from looters. I also want to thank all our friends who opened their homes to us, and to both of our workplaces being so understanding while we stayed glued to the television for the first three days and couldn't think straight. We've had nothing but support from all sides, and I cannot express how humble and grateful we are. 

Also, my sincere condolences to those who lost their home or property to the fire. I cannot begin to imagine your devastation and the heartache and red tape you face while you work to get your lives back on track.* 

* As of this writing, 502 homes have been confirmed destroyed.

Y'all be excellent to one another.

d