| Abrupt |
[Nov. 12th, 2018|09:25 pm]
rejectomorph
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The last four nights I've heard a cricket chirping nearby, but tonight it is silent. Crickets vanished from the ridge weeks ago, but it is normally warmer in the valley. It is now also smoky in the Valley. Today the sun looked like a tangerine. Yesterday it looked more like a radioactive persimmon. An improvement, I suppose. The smoke and ashfall add to my dismal mood. I suspect it's helping to keep me tired as well. Breathing thick air is exhausting.
I did some grocery shopping today, but still haven't been able to find a store with an electric razor in stock. There are trimmers everywhere, but no actual razors. I don't see a lot of guys with managed stubble or trimmed beards around here. Maybe I've been in the wrong parts of town. Have the hipsters all fled the smoky conditions? I've always found Chico just bit surreal, but in my current state of mind it seems even more so.
My great-niece, who has worked in the insurance business, has looked over my insurance policy and has filed a claim for me. I thought that the policy excluded wildfire coverage, but apparently the insurance companies sometimes use sneaky language to mislead customers. Who would have thought? It's likely to be a long time before any new construction gets underway in Paradise, so I'm not even thinking about that yet. A lot of infrastructure was destroyed and it will take a very long time to get the place habitable. And that leaves aside the question of whether anybody will want to return. I'm sure I won't If I rebuild it will be only to sell.
I have forgotten what I was going to say next, but it's getting late anyway and I should tr to sleep. |
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