Ugh. Heat and Fires

As hot as it is, my surroundings are still visually beautiful. It's not fireweed season yet. The first bloomers are the dandelions, which is why I urge people not to kill them; they are the pollinators' first meal each spring. Second are the bluebells:

Hot on their heels are the roses:

They are everywhere!

Then my own pretty columbines. Sometimes I wonder why I bother growing ornamentals since the wild roses, fireweed, and wild irises are so prolific, and require no effort of me, but once established, my perennials are the same!

When I say "hot", I know I will get limited sympathy from any readers in the Lower 48, but this is hot by our standards:

We get by with a little help from the swamp cooler and copies consumption of watermelon. We always have a partial one in the fridge and a backup watermelon lying around the house. :D

Even Cricket, with her lighter houndy coat, is hot.

Raven is hot, too, but with her youth, she finds it more tolerable.

I've learned that they like salads. :D

In more distressing news, a few days into the heat wave, we had dry thunderstorms all over the state, and multiple wildfires started. One is nearby, so we have prepared to evacuate. I found an old file on my computer called "bugout list.xls", but when I opened it, it appears that I was thinking to flee into the wilderness; the list contains wilderness survival gear and tents and sleeping bags. I had to make another one for a wildfire evacuation situation, if we are just "fleeing" into town to stay at a hotel. And we will have access to grocery stores and restaurants.

First, we prepacked bags with important documents, meds, and spare clothes. Then I made a list of things to grab as we head out the door, those prepacked bags of course being among them. Our hiking daypacks have a lot of good safety gear in them, so I included those. And I had DL add anything else he thought of to that list and get those things ready. Then in evacuation time, we consult the list, grab those things, and go.

Once those bags were packed and sitting happily in a quiet corner ready to go (and the threat level had not increased), we had the luxury of thinking beyond immediate survival. I call this Second Tier planning: If the house really burns down, what are the things that will be hardest/most expensive to replace? DL suggested winter coats and boots. Then I added expensive eczema creams, haha. You're probably looking at about $3-4k right here. Is it irreplaceable? With the exception of one hat that a friend knitted for me, nope. But it'll be a comfort come winter to have these things ready.

We also pre-evacuated photos and family mementos, and a few rare books. Surprisingly little of my treasured book collection is irreplaceable! I can replace almost any of them with the click of a button! But I included a few that will be engrossing to read to self-soothe if our house burns down. And I also did photograph our bookcases, so if we ever want to duplicate them, we can!

And I've signed up for all the text alerts, and no longer turn off my phone at night. Unfortunately, they aren't divided by geography, so I can be woken up in the middle of the night by an evacuation notice for 40 miles away, but that's okay. Better safe than sorry.

The Borough maintains an evacuation map, which of course I have bookmarked on both my phone and my computers. Green means "ready", which means pack your emergency bags, medications, pet supplies, etc; yellow means "get set", which means stay near home so you are ready to flee with your stuff if you need to; red means "go", now immediately, do not pass go, do not collect $200. However, DL and I are staying one step ahead of them. We are now NEAR a green zone, so we are ready! If they turn us green, we will "get set". If they turn us yellow, we will leave immediately. We won't wait for the red.

I am grateful for how many of my friends are taking steps to evacuate and stay safe. (I felt similarly during COVID, when it became extremely obvious that my crowed leaned toward the cautious end of things!) If my friends and colleagues were those fatalistic, "I'm not worried/God will protect me" types, I think it would be bad for my anxiety. My musher friends who have dog teams are all evacuating super early. I offered help with dog transport, but dang, they were so organized that they declined! If any locals are reading this, please don't hesitate to reach out if you need help. This is a classic Fairbanks scenario where we all help each other. People are offering beds, showers, and camping space to strangers. Please reach out if you need help!