I awoke alone for the fifth and final day in a row in what was left of my home. There was no direct damage from the fire, mind you, but without a doting cat and a loving wife to keep me company during my birthday week... it just didn't feel much like a home at all. I had moved back in after the evacuation order was lifted, so I could begin the arduous task of cleaning up after our hasty retreat from the premises, while also trying to remove the smell of smoke from... everything... before going down to SoCal the following weekend to collect my most precious of cargo... mi familia. I rented a rug cleaner and deep cleaned the rugs, and I washed sheets and towels and clothes and walls and curtains and oh my god is that a potato? I threw away some nasty things that week. Some reeeally nasty things. And on that final day before my trip south, I made sure that the car was packed and ready to go and the house was as clean as I was ever going to get it, and I went to bed early to get some critically important rest.
News that this would be one of the hottest weekends of the year was not at all welcome. But hey what else should I expect from 2020? It's not a bug... it's a feature - 2020 is definitely trying to kill us all. A pair of friends of mine had graciously stepped up to help me with the logistics of this trip, and they met me Saturday morning not far from the van rental place. They hopped into the van and I hopped into the car... and off we went. I will take a momentary pause, here, to thank them again for reducing my work and stress loads by about 50% just by caravanning with me, and helping me get the van loaded and unloaded at both ends. I have no proper words of gratitude that do it justice... thank you thank you thank you.
The drive down was fairly uneventful, although my air conditioner gave up the fight against the heat on several occasions. In retrospect, it might've been wiser to pay more heed to that issue than I did at the time. When we got to my in-laws' house, the afternoon heat was really doing its absolute best to try and kill everything alive. Weather in Los Angeles seemed to be ranging from 113 to 121 that day, with promises of being just as hot if not hotter the following day. My friends and I both agreed that an early start made some very sensible sense. We committed to try and leave town as early as we could. That night, though, I just couldn't sleep. It was due entirely to the heat... even at 10pm at night, it was unbearable for my Santa Cruzian senses. I do not care for summer heat, no sir.
I was up a little before sunrise - one might argue that I never really went properly "down". I probably got about 60-90 minutes of sleep all night. As I began to try and build a makeshift bed in the back of my car out of old mattress toppers, the sun made it's way over the horizon in the same sort of threatening way that a train approaches the struggling damsel tied to the train tracks. Where is Dudley Do-Right when you need him?? I was already beginning to sweat and it wasn't even 9am yet.
We were finally all packed up and on the road by about 10:30... it already felt far too late, but things take as long as they take, eh? It was hot and ugly outside, and we were fairly worried about hitting L.A. traffic fleeing the rising temps. Luckily we didn't see much of that traffic on our way north, and we were soon escaping the gravitational pull of the Greater Los Angeles Area, and crossing the desolate inland valleys in what can only be described as the worst possible day imaginable to be doing that. Staci was laid out in the back 2/3 of the car experiencing varying levels of comfort and frustration as she tried to stay stable on my improvised topper bed, while the cat was locked in her carrier and seat-belted into the passenger seat. As set-ups go... it wasn't the worst. With the back window blocked out by cardboard, Staci was less likely to bake into a staci casserole, and I had access to put my fingers into the kitty carrier while I drove, to help keep our travel-averse cat from freaking out too badly. I had really tried to prepare for every detail. What we were not prepared for... was the absolute misery of the heat, because...
...My air conditioner gave up... a lot... and frankly I didn't have a good plan for that. It's not that it broke at any point, but more that it was never designed to keep the cabin cool in 120 degree weather while the car was fully loaded and on an extended high-speed journey. If ever you wanted to make an argument to me in favor of buying a vehicle with more cylinders and a bigger engine... that day would have been the best day to make your case. The worst part of the heat getting to us, turned out to be the cat. 
She was miserable, panicked, dehydrated, fourteen years old... and wearing a non-removeable fur coat. At one point while she was panting and whimpering alarmingly, we tried to take her out of the carrier because we were genuinely worried about heat stroke. This proved to be both the worst and best decision of the day. After she tried almost immediately to escape our grasp down into the undercarriage machinery of our folding back seat (a seriously panicky moment for us), we had to put her back into the carrier - but that briefest of moments being held and comforted seemed to reset her brain and calm her just enough to stop the panic. And then... quite quite luckily... my A/C got the upper hand and started spewing cool air once more, and I successfully aimed it into the carrier. After that fifteen minute boondoggle was done, the cat settled down and napped uneasily, and was quiet. I spent the remainder of the journey making sure that no direct sunlight got into the carrier by shading the whole thing with a seat cushion. Yes... we pamper her. She's our bebe and well she can't pamper herself, you know!
We ended up getting back to Santa Cruz by about 4pm, where it was also quite horribly hot, but it was more of a pleasant sort of horrible in comparison to those inland valleys. We unloaded the vehicles, and got everyone inside... and in one final moment of drama for the day, my friend did battle with one of my outdoor planters and nearly lost. 
But in the end he turned the tide and soundly defeated the planter - killed it good. I was more worried about his ankle than he was in that moment, I think. I didn't care about the planter even half as much as I cared about the plant. And to define how much I cared about the plant... well... I keep buying that plant... about every year... due to my inability to keep it alive.
And so it was done. Over. Kaput. Except that it wasn't of course. The fire was still burning, the skies were still dark and/or martian on most days, my car covered in ash and soot every morning, and I have since become much more familiar with the "Air Quality Index" than I ever was previously. In fact they only just fully contained the fire this last week. But now, at least, life can get back to normal as I don a facemask to pick up groceries, bask in dark orange sunlight, cancel 95 percent of my travel plans, and wonder if we will still be "one nation, indivisible" after November 3rd.
Yep, perfectly back to normal!
