Sunday a week ago Luz called from Topeka saying as soon as they got onto the plains both the smoke and their headaches went away, but here in the mountains the murk persisted…

And August’s Mondays seem bearers of bad news; on the 17th, we retrospectively discovered, our long- [almost 28 year] term rental in SF was foreclosed, precipitating a week of uncertainty for our tenants and ourselves;  we didn’t hear until Wednesday and by Thursday the new owners were there, taking as many names, numbers and photographs as they could manage while we, in addition to trying to arrange for trucking and a driver out of here for the Walsenburg work, went looking for the lawyer who’d crafted our leases, only to learn he’d passed away in the interim, finally finding a new guy in time to get a copy of the lease to him by email Friday…but all was in limbo through the weekend and kids’ departure…Meanwhile early morning coyotes faintly yip as Aggie begins her daily rounds.  We worry about that, too, but since she continues to return unscathed, assume they probably consider her the White Doggess.

Up Dry Creek is a place that often, in smell and feel, reminds me of the Sierra Madre behind the La Canada lands of my youth.  Now, living in a land of smokes, all the more so…

[Somewhat assuaged by the corn of Olathe]

Another Monday, 24th of August, Luz and crew venturing east from Topeka, and me upstairs at the computer while L., continuing long-distance hassles about cars and smog and other details, fields a phone call that quickly turns distressed – “WHAT?  Who is this?  What are you saying?” which brings me down the ladder in a panic to find the shock sinking in; not the kids on the road but her sister Elayne died utterly unexpectedly, sitting up in bed talking happily on the phone, her morning glass of iced tea beside her. Half an hour before; laughing, talking…poof.

On the seventh day of smokes some rains blew through, harbinging better weather for another swing through the ‘Burg and La Veta, where a haircut, as well as lunch at the Bakery with the original perpetrators of same, ensued in advance of the hastily arranged L.A. trip…and the lunch, outside in mild airs with pleasant conversation, was something her sister would have enjoyed, Linda felt…a small bright spot, much needed.

[some Walsenburg real estate opportunities]

[some things in the Habib awaiting transport west and some of the apples participating in our friend Mary’s inventory of the Apples of La Veta; then the road home]

Thursday eve we made it to the Lone Pine again and quietly barbecued on the porch,

…then woke before six, threw few things together, gave the dogs a rudimentary walk and were away at seven…

To be continued, con tristezza

M