Charlie Brown for Congress

This afternoon we are hosting a fundraising house party for Charlie Brown, Democratic candidate for Congress. I’m not what you would call a politically active person, so my designated responsibility is food. My husband can quote Charlie’s track record if asked—all I know for sure is that he likes chocolate. (Okay, so maybe I’m exaggerating my ignorance just a tad. It’s just that I’m married to a man who knows so much about so many things, and I’m in awe of that.)

I’m very excited about what will happen here today. A man who is committed to making a difference will speak to our friends…our neighbors…to share his beliefs, goals, and insights. I can only hope that my artichoke frittata does him justice.

http://www.charliebrownforcongress.com

California Fires

It’s back. With a vengeance. After a one-day reprieve on Friday—when it was actually possible to spend time outdoors and breathe deeply—the smoke has returned. The sky is no longer blue, and even though the sun is shining, the light is diffused by all the gunk in the air.

At present, 1781 fires are burning in the state of California—1450 of them contained. 558,738 acres have been destroyed so far.

Even though we’re dealing with the side effects of all the smoke, our Northern California town is not threatened. Many residents, however, are walking around in hardware-store masks, apparently unaware that the CDC says these are designed to block larger particles like sawdust, and are useless for smoke. But I think there must be some satisfaction in thinking that you’re doing something—anything—to protect yourself.

This is the view from our back deck in mid-afternoon on July 6:

Smoke Gets in Your Eyes

Northern California is choked with smoke today. The Department of Forestry is calling the fires the Lightning Series—the result of bizarre thunderstorms that have been moving through the region for the past few days. Thirty-four fires have been reported in the area where I live.

On Saturday, I watched in amazement from my driveway as dense black clouds obscured the sunlight. The thunder was deafening, but only a few drops of rain fell. If I hadn’t seen them on the windshield of the car, I probably would have missed them completely. It was an eerie feeling—à la Ray Bradbury meets Stephen King meets Mephistopheles.

Today, the sky is an eerie yellow-white color. On most days, when I drive over a nearby bridge that crosses Highway 49, I can see all the way to the Sierra. This morning, I could barely see the freeway below.