The Art of Doing

How do we do all we do? People frequently ask this when they start learning what we do with our time and our lives. So enjoy following what we do, what we learn, and how we do our lives. We live, we love, we do!

Friday, August 5, 2011

Fire Break: My recap of the Dyer-Mill Fire; Grimes County Texas 2011

As a teacher I love my summer vacation. It remains one of the best perks of my underpaid profession. Summer break varies for me from the extremes of work all summer, finish paramedic school, take more courses, work and teach summer school, and so on for the last 20+ years. The events of this summer have  transformed me, peeled back some of my layers, and pushed me into new directions. Maybe even some healing. But I am different.

Last summer, I focused on the farm and connected to my inner earth mamma hippie, selling eggs at the farmer's market, knitting while there, and I reconnected to my inner warrior  by  learning the game of roller derby. While interesting, both were not really life changing. Maybe because it was just a surface facet of my life, and I somehow knew that I could never practically give over my life to either new interest.

But the fires....that event was life changing. The Dyer-Mills Fires of Grimes County, Texas changed my life and I didn't see a flame or a cinder. Not one. I saw lots of smoke. But the mental gymnastics that present themselves when faced with the very real possibility of losing everything, quickly, brought deep changes. Not just the choices of what to pack, but who to pack? The dachshund? of course. The horse? absolutely. The cow? I wasn't sure. The neighbor's horse and dog of whom I was house-sitting? without a doubt. Did I have time to get them to my farm. Maybe? Depended on fire movement, wind direction and wind speed. Ducks, chickens, geese, quail? They stay. Those in cages stay locked up. Cruel? Financially sound? What if  my farm didn't burn after I evacuated? I just released my product to the wild. No insurance check for birds that might not have been there. At least burned birds provided proof of my losses to an insurance adjuster. You start to see where my mind was spinning. Over several days of spinning.

Most freeing, the realization that I didn't NEED much at all. If I had lost our farm to the fires, I was ready to take the insurance check pay off what I could and move to Florida. I could work in Disney for the mouse if I wanted to do so. But I really didn't NEED much. My list of items in the truck was extremely short. And if you know me well, you know how much of the house is full of costumes, vintage clothes, fabric, pictures, Texas Renaissance stuff(swords),  personal history, not one but 2 Dra hats, more hats...things that weren't even considered when I was pulling things together. What would you chose to take? Leave? Did I mention I was leaving with a horse trailer and a 70+ y/o lady from the neighborhood in a truck behind me?

Then I learned how fires move, and I learned that I could probably stay and defend my house reasonably well.  In addition, I probably didn't have time to get the neighbor's horse in the worst of my scenarios given what I learned about how forest fires move and what they prefer to burn. More mind spinning.

I learned that my life is good. I don't have everything I want. I have so much more than I actually NEED, it's humbling. I was floored by the number of phone calls, texts, and emails of people offering their help and support no matter what I needed. More than anything, I am blessed. I am grateful for all that support, unsolicited support. Some messages came from folks that I didn't realize counted me that high in their circles. I discovered true class in one friend (she said I can't tell anyone) and a true lack of class from the person who wrote me off 4 years ago and called me out of guilt.

Closer to spirit? God? Goddess? absolutely. I spent the largest chunk and the most stressful chunks of this ride alone at my house. Lee was working the fires. His usual 24 hour shifts, plus many runs of 12 hour shifts. Daytime was the worst. Winds were higher. But I never felt alone. Safe? Not entirely....the saddest thing, the fires didn't scare me half as much as the life it drove in front of it...panicky people from the back of woods driving cars I have never seen before with meth-addled teeth...young men cruising fast and furious on four wheelers...older couples in unfamiliar trucks loaded with stuff...I pushed my revolver in my belt and brought the shotgun downstairs.

For those that lost their homes, I continue to send prayers in their direction. For the drought damaged forests and fire stripped trees, I pray for rain and common sense in my fellow man that the carelessness that started this fire is not repeated.

Following the fires as things began to run towards normal, it is easier to assess and decide...what project am I going to work on? Am I going to continue my hopeless balls to the wall drive for roller derby fame? Am I going to learn and create something new in the space left behind the fire line? I have a new clarity and appreciation for things. My students might not appreciate what I have to say. But it will get said.

Intense. Yes. as a sequel to the life and death summer of my paramedic clinicals..a good follow-up. Keeping me young? Nah...I got more white hairs over this one.

Irony point: I was born in the Chinese year of the fire horse. Go figure.

Peace, Love, and Hoofbeats from all of us at the farm.

1 comment:

  1. It was definitely scary seeing your updates--I can't imagine being that close! Glad you are okay!

    ReplyDelete