Colorado's wildfires are still going, though the firemen (bless them) are starting to make a little headway. The media are reporting at least 350 homes burned. Two people have been found dead, in the garage, with their packed vehicle not far away. They should have left more quickly.
One lady who called the office today said they'd evacuated their daughter's family Tuesday night, then were sitting down to supper Wed evening when the dreaded knock on the door came. They had 20 min. to pack and get out. They literally left the food on the table, threw clothes and papers into suitcases, then spent the rest of the time loading their horses. Now they're at a son's house, waiting to see what will happen. So far, their house is intact.
Some people are being allowed to return to their homes. I-25, our major thoroughfare, still has restrictions. So far.
I've heard of an elderly couple that's missing. No one has heard from them for some days. Both husband and wife are active with our state guild, the Colorado Quilt Council, and are nice people. But they should have checked in somewhere by now.
The air still is not clear...but it's not as bad as it was.
And on a different cheerful thought, the Brick is up and ambulatory...but still carrying several kidney stones in his system. He's had some low-grade pain; hopefully that means they're buzzing through. He's been down in Pueblo for a bus driver's conference, and will somehow have to get through I-25 tonight when he returns home.
I've been staying up until 2 a.m. nights, working on things...and finally starting to make progress. Still, it will be lovely to see him. I miss that good ol boy when he's gone.
How can it be, in all this uncertainty and smokiness, that the roses are blooming like crazy? The Harison rose (yes, one 'r') bloomed for the first time, warm yellow blossomlets on a sticky, pickery stem. This is the true pioneer rose, one that was carried west in cutting form, stuck in a potato. It's a little fussy getting started, but has nerves of steel once it's established. In fact, it's so hardy that rosebushes have survived even when the buildings and people are gone. (Kind of like lilacs.)
The Harison, by the way, is the true Yellow Rose of Texas. You can find out more about it via my Golden West book, if you're interested.
The Persian rose - a great-great-grandfather of the Harison - is also starting to bloom: large, warm yellow flowers on an upright bush. The pink wild roses in the corner of the backyard -- a shady spot where the hens love to scratch, rest and just watch the world go by -- are blooming their hearts out.
Even the deep red Lincoln rose in the front flower bed is joining the festivities. Is it the heat that's prompting all this activity? (It's certainly not rain - we've had hardly any.)
Or maybe they like ashes.
|This is what a Harison rose looks like..but think smaller size|