Company and Fish...

They both start to smell after three days.

The day ends, begins, ends, and begins again. No one has had much sleep in the last 36 hours.
















Dad evokes a smile from the oldest, even after hearing that we are not going home, again. Morning breaks on the third day to the latest report on a different fire burning out of control. Grandma and Grandpa are already packed. The only thing we can do is drink more coffee, watch more news, and wait for a second evacuation.

Breakfast is last night's dinner; frozen waffles and yogurt. Grandpa throws in a few slices of cantaloupe for good measure.

Ice-cream is distributed for comfort, along with Grandpa's mini Hershey's dark chocolate bars.

Even after three days in confinement, normal behavior continues, including this child's creative talent for designing a "set-up" with her strawberry cheesecake yogurt.











An early evening brings us to a Mexican restaurant because no one can bring themselves to stomach one more order of chicken strips and French fries from Jack-in-the-Box. We haven't eaten fast food in years.

More routine behavior surfaces over chips and salsa after one sister blows snot through the other sister's nose, but instead of the usual scolding, Mom takes their picture and turns back to her second Margarita. Before the entrees arrive, the cell phone rings with good news from our neighbor.

It is finally safe to come home after participating in the biggest evacuation in America's history.

Thank goodness, too. In seven more hours, we would have started to smell really bad.