So this is how the day starts:
The Santa Ana winds kicked up over the weekend. I've expounded on numerous occasions how much I hate the winds, so it's probably not necessary to do it again. Suffice to say the air is dry and prickly. I'm just prickly.
(The son said this morning on our way to school, "I love the wind! If only to hear you go on about how much you hate it." Alrighty then.)
Parent-teacher conferences are this week at the daughter's school, and one of the daughter's teachers won't be at the school on the actual day, so I got to meet with her at 7am this morning. I rallied the son, telling him he'd have to move a little faster because we'd have to leave a little earlier, and I knew I'd have to get up earlier, too, because I'd have to dress a little more nicely than the standard 6:45 am sweats.
So, the alarm went off and I groaned, and the wind was howling. I finally threw the covers back--it's actually been pretty cool the last couple of nights--and no sooner did I sit up than suddenly everything goes black.
We'd lost our power.
At the least the coffee was ready.
Fortunately, the power outage was brief.
Around mid-morning the sky was suddenly, startlingly white. The firefighters quickly (thank you!) put out a small fire a mile or two up the road. So far we are blessed down here: nothing like what we saw last October, nothing like what is happening north of us.
My trees and plants are utterly shredded. When I think of everything else that's going on, it's almost going to be a pleasure cleaning up that mess once the worst of the wind dies down.
Welcome to Monday.
Go listen to some good music: "Monday, Monday" from the album If You Can Believe Your Eyes and Ears by The Mamas and The Papas.