fire watch

i guess you can't really have indian summer in southern california, but if you could, this would be it.  september 22, and it's 91 degrees at 11pm.  the santa anas are back, blowing hot and dry across the foothills.  after working late, then relaxing over pizza at caruso's with james and niko, tango and i took a walk in the yard.  the sky was clear and dark, crickets sang, and the stars seemed to be burning alittle brighter.  there's a strange electricity in the air that even the animals can sense.  i could hear the sheep rustling in their shed and walked over to see them all standing together in the middle, in the dark, facing the same direction.  they were completely still.  i opened the gate and went inside.  everyone was especially calm and affectionate.  scooter leaned against me, as usual (he's an attention hog).  i slipped out the gate, and told them to get some sleep.

the wind always puts me on edge.  they remind me of last year, when two fierce fires hit our town within the span of two months.  the second was the worst for us.  started late on a friday night in the hills during a spell of santa anas, and grew to an inferno within hours.  the gusts were so strong they blew a window open.  smoke filled the house and left a layer of ash on every surface.  i was summoned to help open a shelter at the local high school, then came home around 5:30am to check on everyone.  when i opened the back door, emily, amy and tango were all sitting in opposite corners of the kitchen, just staring at each other.  they knew that something was very wrong.  the word "firestorm" was an appropriate description - a rolling, low ceiling of black smoke, with ash blowing so fast that it felt like sandpaper.   i could tell that the fire was close from the long line of engines parked nose-to-nose down glenoaks, but i couldn't see it.  every few minutes another engine would pass by the house, sirens blaring.  the smoke was too thick to see any flames, but embers were landing like grenades a couple of blocks away from us, igniting yards, trees and fences.  if it hadn't been for the garden hose brigade of local residents, the whole neighborhood might have gone up in smoke.  the fire department simply couldn't keep up, as the 70 mph winds were constantly shifting, spreading the fire in all directions.  a few blocks from us, the firemen dropped their hoses and ran when the wind and flames became too intense.  i waited, kept all the animals inside, and hoped that we wouldn't need to evacuate.  we were fortunate.  the fire moved north of us and jumped the 5 freeway, roaring west into granada hills and north towards santa clarita.

on the news tonight, i saw that a fire's burning near fillmore.  according to the news, we're now on "fire watch".

final days of summer

a certain feel in the morning air this week reminds me it's almost fall.  it was nearly 100 degrees for the past two days, but the sharp edge of summer has dulled.  shadows are longer and the light has changed.  the days are shorter and sun is gone by 7:15, leaving little time to wander outside or bbq when i arrive home from work.

we're still harvesting figs, tomatoes, zucchini and peppers.  i pureed some zucchini into soup and stuck it in the freezer for cooler days.  i may make another batch of tomato sauce tomorrow.

in an effort to savor the last of warm weekends, we've invited some neighbors for a barbeque this afternoon.  jim and debbie are renovating their house, so have been without a kitchen for several weeks.  jim is an excellent farmer, but hasn't been able to can any of his beloved tomatoes or or dry and grind his peppers into homemade cayenne.  i'm hoping they'll enjoy alittle home cooking (and maybe bring along some of their garden booty).  i started cooking early to avoid heating up the house as the day gets warmer.  i made a lemon cake and potato salad, prepped 3 racks of baby back ribs, trimmed a few strip steaks and coated them in dry rub.  i'll drive to lombardi's for corn before smoking the ribs for about 5 hours.  

the sheep are relaxing in the shade of the fig trees, taking morning naps.  they've enjoyed some early pomegranates this week, as i've been picking the fruit that's cracked or has been compromised by birds.  i throw the fruit on the ground hard to scatter the seeds for the chickens, who love them.  soon the fruit will be completely ripe and the sheep will walk around with red-stained mouths, looking like they're wearing lipstick.

ivan is bandage-free, after a visit from dr. martin.  aside from one small scab, his leg seems completely healed.  rosie has become his regular companion again, and now waits in the coop every morning to be carried into the pen with him.  ivan and rosie have a history together. when rosie was about 10 months old, she went broody and decided to sit on a clutch of eggs. she was so clumsy, she broke nearly every egg before finally giving up the nest after 4 weeks. when she went back into the flock, the roosters fought over her and mated excessively.  as i chased one of them off of her, i noticed blood under her wing.  she had been flayed by a rooster's spur and the cut was large.  we kept her in the house for 2 weeks, cleaning the wound each day until it healed sufficiently.  then, dr. martin performed her surgery on the dining room table.  he put her under with anesthesia, removed the dead skin and tissue and stitched her up. after staying inside for another week, we put her out in a portable pen for 2 weeks until she was healed completely.  ivan sat next to her pen each day, keeping her company.  when she was released, they were constant companions.  she was his number one hen after that, until his injury.  now they're together again, under opposite circumstances.