Life of Wry

As of today, we’re back to living inside a Smokey Joe. It appears that the winds shifted, or the high pressures gave way to lows, or whatever it was keeping all the fire smoke at bay.. something changed and now we have smoke. I liked it a lot better when the West’s smoke was going to the Eastern seaboard. As I channeled my best, most charitable self (and not my nah, nah vindictive self) I thought It’s important that the entire country experience these fires, otherwise they won’t appreciate the problems of drought and climate change. This is an us problem, not a California-Oregon-Washington liberal commie BlackLivesMatter problem.

So there.

But now we’re swimming in our own pee, so to speak. Our fires, our smoke. Nobody on the Eastern seaboard, or in the Midwest, or the South cares. (They’ve got their own crosses to bear: masks.*)

I had to drive to Sac today and, boy, was it butt ugly out there. Hot, smelly, smokey, brown. Not healthy for children and other living things. Honestly… it is tres dispiriting.

The hopeful and optimistic side of me hopes this is just a minor blip, and that blue skies will return soon. Most definitely we’ll have blue skies when Peter arrives later this month and we go to Yosemite for some high country hiking. Most definitely.

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Meanwhile, check this out. This is definitely a tale of the one that got away. As in… it was hiding, we somehow missed it and then, bam! it’s a monster zuc!

My reading glasses and a normal-sized zucchini for scale. Just obscene, isn’t it?

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(*) don’t get me started.