Aimee and the ducks

Aimee (of the Bronze Shoes) finally got a stack of delayed unemployment checks and upgraded her phone, and she gave me her old iPhone 7, which is a big step up from the 5S I’ve been using. When Aimee was a nanny (a job she lost because of Covid) she’d take the little one to feed oats to the ducks, and the ducks remember her. The smoke wasn’t too bad this morning; we could breathe. But the fires have been devastating to many.

After I left Aimee, I went out to Beaverton to collect from their school the computers the grandchildren will need for online learning, and to water the garden for my son and daughter-in-law. The strong winds, heat, and smoke are dessicating the plants, and the family is camping in the high desert where, for the moment, there are no fires. As I was driving home into a smeary yellow sky, I saw in the rear-view mirror a wall of hellish amber following me from south of the city. I rushed in and shut all the windows, and the topaz-magenta smoke arrived about half an hour later. These skies are like nothing I’ve ever seen before. Extras were both taken at 4:30 as that wall of smoke moved in.