There isn’t a person in the country who didn’t look around their house this week and wonder what they’d do with a fire breathing down on them and the urgent need to evacuate. Grab the animals and the kids, not necessarily in that order, and in some cases not much else.
Then there was the fire fighter, digging through the rubble of his destroyed house to find his wedding ring. And he found it!
Many, us included have donated to displaced families, firefighters, community centers and food distribution volunteers. The homes that burned belonged to both gazillionairs and regular folks. What was once clusters of small towns melded together to create the sprawling City of Los Angeles. Such a sad and daunting task to rebuild.

I have tried several times to stuff a go-bag for each of us. Ours are mostly for trips to the hospital, which happens way too frequently with three older women. Bags must be kept up to date which is a job unto itself.
Once my leg allows me more mobility, the plan is to go through the house and do a thorough clean out. Aging is the fire breathing down our necks and no time like the present to face it,
DOS TORTAS


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