I spent (some portion of) 8 years of my life in San Diego County (Oceanside, specifically). We moved all the time growing up, but somehow kept returning to Camp Pendleton. Today, reading about the fires, I'm cringing and praying. Wildfires are a pretty common catastrophe in that area, but this week's are particularly awful.

I'm not sure what it is about a disaster that makes you long for a place. Perhaps a part of us is always present in the places that formed us, and we just feel it more sharply in these times.


  1. I didn't know you had been in Oceanside, just an hour south of us. We scattered my Grandma Pat's ashes two miles off the pier and it is so good to see the picture.

    The scope of the fires hasn't sunk in for me quite yet here in Toronto--I will go home Friday and expect it will then.

  2. I didn't know you'd been to Oceanside and more specifically Camp Pendleton! My dad was in the Marines for 24 years, so we were at Camp Pendleton at various times of my life. I was remembering those brown hills with the furrows on them to stop fires as I heard of evacuees going there.


"So keep fightin' for freedom and justice, beloveds, but don't you forget to have fun doin' it. Lord, let your laughter ring forth. Be outrageous, ridicule the fraidy-cats, rejoice in all the oddities that freedom can produce. And when you get through kickin' ass and celebratin' the sheer joy of a good fight, be sure to tell those who come after how much fun it was."
-Saint Molly Ivins