Millbrae Fire Chief Dennis Haag “…said the first engine on scene got within about a 100 yards of the fire and ‘then had to stop because their windshield cracked (from the heat). As they pulled back, they saw paint bubbling on the cars in the street.'”
Source: SFGate
Every morning after I wake up, stumble over the cat and yawn three times, I start to think about my day.
Part of that thinking involves devising a topic for my daily entry to this little ol’ blog.
Over the years, the topics have varied widely from news of the world to news of crevices of my mind. And food. Lots of talk about food.
So I thought quite a bit about what to write about today for this, my 997th post in the life of Oh Fair New Mexico.
I could write more about the really awful fire in San Bruno last night. About the stutter-stall from PG&E in addressing the situation, about the homes and lives lost.
I could go on a rant about the nature of mega-corporations (*coff*BP*coff*) and their inability to respond in crisis situations.
I could even write about the fact that my own employer is a way-too-huge corporation, and sometimes that worries me.
I might even wander out of my local area and riff on that wack-a-doodle “minister” (I use sarcastic quotes on purpose) who is so filled with hate and not a small amount of insanity, that he would endanger the lives of people around the world and American military troops just to get a little publicity for his wack-a-doodle 50 follower church.
I seriously considered discussing the conversation I had this morning with my boss, who is here in the US for three weeks, but who usually lives in London. He is a very kind, gentle and mellow man. He said to me this morning, “I don’t understand this man who wants to burn the Quran. Can you explain it to me?” I couldn’t. It is beyond my grasp.
I could discuss my growing dread regarding the upcoming California governor’s election in my state.
Or my belief that on both sides of the political spectrum, our US Congress has run so far off the rails that I’m unsure how we will ever find our way back.
And I could talk about how, really, this must be end of days because I can’t fathom this world where being so rude, being so self-centered, and being so utterly oblivious are acceptable. And yet, it is.
I even considered discussing how I’m what is considered a very sensitive person. In fact, there are books written on this subject, “The Highly Sensitive Person” and such. And because of that, how my choice to watch a blazing fire on my television all last night is really NOT good for my soul. How tweaked out I am about this whole thing.
Yes. I considered all of those topics and more.
But it’s Friday, and I’m exhausted. Three weeks ago one of my dearest friends died and I still can’t seem to climb up out of that grief.
And watching people lose their homes and their lives last night really did me in.
So today, I’m going to talk about a dog.
My first god dog, a heeler and Chihuahua mix, has been a good dog. She’s deaf and near blind and still very sweet. But she doesn’t run around and chase the ball like she used to.
My second god-dog is an adorable little beast. I’m not good with dog breeds, but I think he is a boxer. He’s a big, muscular dog with a menacing bark.
But he’s the sweetest little pea-pod of a dog I’ve ever known.
And he likes his godmom back.
There now. Let’s not think about the jacked up things in the world.
Look into those eyes. Doncha just feel better basking in the glow of this little bubba of a dog?
I know it makes me feel better.
Everyone just pat a cute dog on the head and love your neighbor and hug your family.
And let’s all have a nice weekend, ok?
Looking for news from the homeland, I hit up the news tab on Google and put in New Mexico as my search term.
And what did I get back from that big omnipotent search engine?
New Mexico man set on fire after losing drinking game
3 dead in New Mexico business shooting…
and
Police search for two after finding missing boy (in New Mexico)*
My oh my former home state. Very busy in the news today. But not, you know, in a good way.
Clearly, Bill disapproves….
* text in parentheses is mine.
I have a crush.
Ok, to be fair, I have the biggest crush of all on my husband. He makes my tummy go all googley.
But I also have another, less powerful, crush.
A crush that I’ve been open and honest about with my spouse. He is ok with it. Or, while maybe not ok with it, tolerates my geek girl crush because that’s just the sort of kind and understanding way he has with me.
You see, my crush is not about the usual sort of person you’d think.
No Robert Pattinson nor Johnny Depp. Nope.
Not even someone who you might call a celebrity. But someone who is a known figure…at least in the UK and to watchers of the BBC.
Oh, ok, I’ll be out with it.
I have a crush on Mike Embley, lead presenter on BBC World News.
In my post-cable rabbit-ears-and-a-digital-box joy, I’ve discovered the very serious yet truly wonderful BBC World News show.
It’s informative and not inflammatory. It’s not televised drama, it’s actual news from around the world. I’ve learned a LOT from this show and I chalk much of that up to Mr. Embley who presents the news in a professional and calm manner with a slight tinge of a sense of humor burbling just below the surface.
Plus, he cuts a stunning figure in a pink shirt and tie with a dark grey suit.
Truth be told, I find him rather irresistible. Brains and humor reel me in every time (just ask The Good Man who has both in spades, and might I mention, cuts a rather fabulous visage in a suit, himself).
Anyhow, yesterday, I was taking in the world news from the pleasing voice of Mr. Embley, and at the end of the show, he said, “You can follow me on Twitter at @bbcmikeembley.”
Well that was that.
I looked him up and began following him straight away.
In reading his Tweet stream, I saw that he seems to be rather responsive to his followers. In many cases, he thanked people for the follow and answered their questions.
So…I took a chance.
Here’s the transcript:
From me:
karenfayeth @bbcmikeembley I’m pleased to find you on Twitter. I very much enjoy your BBC World News broadcasts!!
A couple hours later came the reply:
bbcmikeembley @karenfayeth Happy to be Twting. Don’t as much as I’d like but that mostly cos busy with the brdcasting. Or kids. Or dog. Or v bad guitar.
Oh swoon!
I appreciate he left out vowels to get to an economy of characters, and still managed to be very well spoken.
I am simply all a flutter to receive a reply!
When I showed it to my husband, he replied, “Oh my, you’re a news fan geek. Who would have thought?”
He says this because I’m pretty steadfast in that I don’t watch the news.
I really, really don’t watch American broadcast news. It sets my teeth on edge.
Nope, no news…
But for one show. The one presented by my new Twitter friend…Mr. Embley.
: geek out!!! :
Lately, I’ve been thinking a lot about the nature of memory.
Mainly, because my own memory sucks.
What was I saying?
Oh yes.
Some of this memory loss is, I think, is a hazard of having put in a few years on this ol’ planet. Over time, one tends to collect a few things in the closets like bottle tops, tattered paperback books, and stacks of memories, both good and bad.
I sometimes think of my brain as a big storage device. Lots and lots of space. Too many bits of memory get shoved in there, and it’s time for an upgrade.
But maybe that’s a little too Silicon Valley for my tastes.
Let’s try another metaphor.
Maybe my brain is more like a big glass jar filled with marbles. Some are large, some small, some are in between. So as I go about living this crazy mixed up life, these marbles roll their way toward the jar and drop in. These new residents tend to push out the old when I’ve run out of space.
There is only so much room in the jar, of course, and once filled to capacity, something’s gotta give.
As I was getting my hair cut last night, I spent the color “cook time” working over this particular visual metaphor. Unfortunately, I was thinking about it while also pouring over the pages of the current “People” magazine.
Without my consent, some fresh, small marbles found their way into my jar.
For example, I don’t really need to know that one of the Jonas brothers broke up with his girlfriend. *plink*
Or that Jon and Kate plus 8 lady just celebrated the birthday of her sextuplets. *plink*
That some blonde chick named Heidi needs “time alone” from her overbearing husband. *plink*
And that weird Svengali-like husband of that sad, tiny, actress that recently died has now also shuffled off this mortal coil. *plink*
These are not vital memories. These don’t need to be kept in the jar. If they do manage to stay in the jar, then other, better, memories have to slip out.
Oops, there goes making Thanksgiving turkey drawings by tracing my hand onto the paper.
And there goes the name of my childhood friend who lived by the park, across from the swimming pool. We took gymnastics class together at the YMCA. What *was* her name?
Don’t tell me a Jonas brother shoved my friend out of the brain jar!
I suppose the trick is to let those lightweight worthless marbles flow in for a moment and then find a way to shove them right back out.
If I get too many of the trivial marbles, there’s no room left for the big meaningful marbles to find a permanent home.
Of course, some of those big marbles are so heavy, they can’t possibly be washed out. My wedding day. Holding my oldest goddaughter for the first time (I cried). Cracking jokes with my pops while he was in the hospital.
The big ones stick around, no matter. The middlin’ sized tend to go all floaty without my permission. They are the hardest to hold onto.
But I try. Oh I try.
Let’s just hope that at the very least, I can manage to hang on to most of my important marbles.
Because I surely would hate to, you know…lose my marbles.
Photo from the KM&G-Morris public Flickr photostream.