We All Fall Down
A big fire has been burning in the hills east of here but we didn't really feel the effects of it until Sunday morning, when we awoke to an orange sky, the smell of burnt stuff, and to find that everything outside was coated in fine grey ash. Of course, the first thing I thought was, Volcano! Because I'm logical like that! No, but remember when Mount St. Helens erupted way back when, people five states away were brushing ash off their cars? So it could have been a volcano.
It looks like some weird sort of stain on the couch, but it's just the sun filtered through a bunch of burnt shit in the air. Unretouched photo, swear to god.
But it turned out the Santa Ana winds were whipping up all the trouble, as they do. They always remind me of that Raymond Chandler story:
"There was a desert wind blowing that night. It was one of those hot dry Santa Anas that come down through the mountain passes and curl your hair and make your nerves jump and your skin itch. On nights like that every booze party ends in a fight. Meek little wives feel the edge of the carving knife and study their husband's necks. Anything can happen."
It's true, anything can happen. For example, when you take your little boy out to the car and he won't touch the ash-covered door handle, guess why? He thinks it's people. With his dog having been cremated recently, Jackson put two and two together: big fire burns houses + people live inside houses = burnt people floating gently through the air and out to sea.
Which reminds me: we've been shopping for doggie cremation urns, and whoa! Internet! You don't hold back when it come to memorializing your departed companion animals. This site takes the cake just for having that little animated customer service doggie with the flapping angel wings. Or perhaps you'd prefer something laser etched? Or a hollow life-sized figurine? Because apparently we're going to have to hold onto Katie's ashes, the whole scattering thing gets a hearty thumbs down from Jackson. So if anyone has any good urn suggestions, please let fly; our only stipulation is that we have to be able to seal the lid somehow, as, whoops! I don't want to be vacuuming up our beloved bulldog and then trying to separate her from a bunch of weird hair, skin flakes, and feathers while a tear-stained kindergartener stands by.
I neglected to mention that I got in a new batch of black "writing well is the best revenge" t-shirts. Both men's and women's are here and the women's mediums are going fast so if you've been thinking about ordering one now would be a good time, I probably won't be getting another crop until Xmas.
I should also mention that I'm doing a limited run of women's "writing well" shirts in RED with PINK writing and LONG SLEEVES and they look bloody marvelous.
That's some high-quality silk screening right there, I tell you what.
Clicking here will take you to the order page, and within days you will receive a Tyvek envelope enveloping a shirt that's been lovingly scrutinized for irregularities and carefully folded WITH THE VERY HANDS THAT TYPED THESE VERY WORDS.
It's these little things that keep Fussy up and running and make it so I don't have to get a full-time job just yet, even though it would probably do me some good, let's face it, I spend a little too much time alone beading, giving myself haircuts, and writing nonsense like this.