Ash Wednesday

~ Patrick O'Grady ~ 4 Comments

Goooooood morning, Bibleburg!

Well, not so much. A bunch of people lost their houses last night — no idea how many — 32,000 Bibleburgers are on the run, and we’re looking at another hot, windy day, which is good for the Waldo Canyon fire but not so good for anyone else.

There’s a chance of thunderstorms, but a thunderstorm is what got us into this latest pickle, driving the fire down Queens Canyon to the Mountain Shadows neighborhood. Another storm lit up a few hundred acres around Boulder. Theirs, like ours, has multiple-personality disorder and is burning in any number of directions. So it’s not like anyone’s jumping for joy at the thought of Thor swinging his hammer unless Odin is taking a good long beer piss while Junior gets his workout.

We’re south and east of the evacuation zone and the worst we’ve had to face is the smoke from the remains of our neighbors’ hopes and dreams, with a little ash-fall for dessert. We’ll keep you posted. And thanks for all the emails, tweets and Facebook posts inquiring as to our safety. We’re still on the right side of the grass and it’s not on fire yet.

But I’d sure hate to see this lovely old neighborhood burn. I’ve lived in a whole bunch of places and this is the only one that’s truly felt like home. So please to commence your rain dances with all possible haste. That is all.

Don’t freak out …

~ Patrick O'Grady ~ 9 Comments

… we’re OK, but a lot of folks aren’t. A burst of 65-mph winds drove the fire downhill into northwest Bibleburg and it set about gobbling up houses like a stoner does potato chips.

There’s a mandatory evacuation in place for basically everything north of I-25/Garden of the Gods, which is about 15 minutes by bike from Chez Dog. But it seems as though the winds have abated. I’m trying to confirm with Satan that he’s not foreclosing on that mortgage he holds on my soul, but I keep getting voice mail.

I’ll keep you posted while we try to figure out what we can’t live without, just in case.

Smoke gets in your eyes

~ Patrick O'Grady ~ 3 Comments
The Squeaker of the House
Ordinarily Mr. Boo would be fetching that orange squeaky toy from room to room, demanding playtime (squeaka squeaka squeaka), but it’s too damned hot to play Squeaker of the House today.

Deadlines have been eating up my mornings and record temperatures and smoke have been smothering my afternoons. I had to close all the windows for much of yesterday as a waterless thunderstorm up around Peckerwoodland Park shoved the plume from the Waldo Canyon fire right through downtown Bibleburg.

This morning all the varmints are stretched out on various bits of floor, trying to stay cool. It’s already 82 inside the house, so this is pretty much a lost cause.

Buddy (a.k.a. Mr. Boo) is not amused. Of our three critters he is the one most affected by heat. Turkish just flattens out until he looks like a big white throw rug with blue eyes, turning himself into a radiator. Miss Mia Sopaipilla simply naps more. But Mr. Boo insists on conducting business as usual and it always ends badly.

For example, this morning he was eager for a walk. And for about 30 seconds he even enjoyed it. After that it was just like walking a dog, only in slow motion. I’m going to buy a skateboard and henceforth shall tow him behind me like a hairy, bug-eyed little trailer.

Fire on the mountain

~ Patrick O'Grady ~ 4 Comments
Waldo Canyon from Palmer Park
The Waldo Canyon fire as seen earlier today from Palmer Park — which is now closed to keep it from getting lit up, too.

The mercury is knocking on the century mark down here in Bibleburg, but it’s a whole lot hotter in them thar hills.

Manitou Springs got cleared out last night and early this morning, and the Air Force is weighing in with a couple of C-130s that can drop 3,000 gallons of fire retardant in less than five seconds, according to The Denver Post. Two more are inbound from Wyoming.

Down here in the flats it’s oddly quiet. Lots of folks are watching the fire the way a bird eyes a snake, taking cellphone pix and muttering to themselves.

We’ve gotten a few calls from friends and family who wonder if we’ve been forced out onto the open road with only a few simple possessions and the menagerie enjoying a Romney ride atop the Subaru.

Nope. Herself is still at large in Mouse Country, I’m stuck in an un-air-conditioned office wrangling word count and the critters are trying to find cool spots to stretch out. Good luck with that. It’s not exactly fur-coat weather, is what I’m saying.

Still, there are worse things. We know a few folks who’ve been chased out of their homes by this bloody fire, and a few of them are staying next door until things cool off a bit. They may be waiting a while — there’s nothing but sun, heat and wind in the forecast for the next 10 days.  Y’all start doing your rain dances now, please. And thank you.

It’s not the heat, it’s the stupidity, part 2

~ Patrick O'Grady ~ 7 Comments
The Waldo Canyon fire
The Waldo Canyon fire, as seen from a couple blocks west of Chez Dog.

Sonofabitch. Now we’ve got a live one encroaching upon greater cosmopolitan Bibleburg.

Dubbed the Pyramid Mountain fire, it started somewhere near Waldo Canyon and is already estimated at some 600 acres. An assortment of mandatory and voluntary beat-it orders are in place for west- and north-siders, but at the moment it seems the prevailing winds are pushing the thing north and west, so Your Humble Narrator is not in danger — at the moment, anyway — of becoming a hot dog, har har.

The fire has been declared a federal emergency, and renowned feddle-gummint rassler Dougie Lamborn (R-Hypocrisy) reportedly “stands ready to assist if federal resources are required.” In light of the serious nature of the event I’ll refrain from delivering the obvious ironic rimshot.

More as we hear it.

• Late update: The fire is now officially named for Waldo Canyon (no “Where’s Waldo? jokes, please), and late word is that it’s torched a couple thousand acres and displaced about as many people. Nobody hurt so far, according to the local rumormongers, which is good. You can replace burned-up people, just like you can replace burned-up stuff, but the process takes longer and the outcome is uncertain.

The winds seem to have died down, but it’s always creepy to look at the sky at 9:30 p.m. and see peach-colored clouds and a moon that looks like an orange slice from some kid’s Halloween candy haul.