Stress, scones and sewing
There are some people, I’m told, that simply cannot eat when they are stressed. To them I say: “Have you met a scone?” Because I’m pretty sure carbs were invented to soothe and comfort. I will admit, though, that even scones had a hard time here in early October.
During the firestorm, we were relatively safe, here at home in Windsor. Our neighborhood lost gas, but retained phones, internet and electricity. We were anxious, we were hyper-alert, we were exhausted – but safe. We knew many people – we all do – who cannot say the same and it breaks my heart. Our greatest personal loss came when we heard that Thomas’s school was destroyed when the fire consumed half of the Luther Burbank Center. (Anova is already “rising from the ashes,” with a new mascot – a phoenix – and expects to be back next week with several classrooms at temporary sites until the school is rebuilt. Thomas is looking forward to seeing his friends and teachers – although in all honesty, he will very much miss the pretty much unlimited screen time he has had in the last couple of weeks!)
My mother-in-law evacuated to our house from her home just on the other side of Guerneville Road for four nights. She had no electricity, and no phone – and then no cell phone, due to a combination of run down battery and no cell coverage. We ensconced her in Thomas’s room, and he got to sleep downstairs on the foldout couch, which he was thrilled about. (Really. It’s his Friday night treat. He was ecstatic!)
My father-in-law, who lives just behind the Safeway on Highway 12 and Calistoga Road, also had no electricity, no phone (until he remembered his old handset and plugged it in the jack) and no cell phone. (Strangely, his gas was fine; except he couldn’t use it, as his lighter is electric.) We checked in with him every few hours, until we couldn’t reach him – he was out talking to neighbors – and in a panic I made him come here, citing my sanity. He meekly submitted, but only for one night. He was stubbornly home for another night, and then the mandatory call came – and the hard knock on the door by a police officer – and the cat lost her mind and ran under the bed – and he had to drag her out – and she peed all over herself – and he had to hurry out in a traffic jam of other stressed out neighbors, all before 6 a.m. He and his cat Sophie were here in our office “guest room” for five nights, not that any of us were counting, and when the notification came that he could return home, he was out of here in seven minutes flat.
In between keeping out-of-the-area relatives updated, and watching the press conferences and Facebook postings – by the way, Town of Windsor, you did an awesome job keeping us informed; thank you! – I was restless. Regular TV was out; reading was difficult to concentrate on; we couldn’t go anywhere; and tragically, there are only so many scones one woman can consume, so I began to Stress Sew.
I organized some on-hand supplies, and cut, pinned, sewed, ironed and sewed some more. I worked on baby blankets, Christmas presents, gifts for people I know and love whose lives need a little TLC, gifts for people I don’t know that need a sign of love – anything to keep myself busy. As the scraps of fabric turned into tangible items, I prayed that the lives touched by this tragedy would go from uncertainty to hope. I prayed for safety, and comfort, and reunions. I prayed for recovery. I sent thanks up and out: to the first responders, to the volunteers helping organize shelters, to the news crews bringing us information. I choked on tears that hovered, ever-present, when I wasn’t crying – and still I sewed.
The fires are out, now and the skies have cleared. The devastation is visible and tangible wherever you look … but there is hope. For those affected, I pray that that hope can wrap itself around you like a quilt, comforting your sorrow and giving you peace. If you need a hug – or a scone – I’m here.
