Fires still burn throughout the state.
Fires still burn here.
But life goes on, and the clean up and rebuilding of lives begins.
Apparently there is a list of the dead in the paper.
The paper is now nestled in the bin. I don’t want to know yet.
My heart skips a beat every time the phone rings. No no, I don’t want to know.
Today I mopped my floors for the first time since the weekend.
Ash covers every single surface.
As I mop – eight buckets, I emptied eight buckets of black water – I wonder what the ash is.
Someones home. A childs toy. Linen, clothes, photos, lives destroyed.
I don’t want to think about what else it could be.
Too many broken people. Too many walking around with the light in their eyes gone.
K is finally allowed to leave her home. See her boys. Leave the designated crime scene.
I get to hug her tomorrow.
Friends are still fighting fires or searching for victims. No one should have to see what they have seen.
I am here safe. Mopping and dusting. Scrubbing the oily remnants of others lives.
This is fucked up.
I wasn’t going to do this. If you feel the need to donate to the appeals you will find them. You don’t need me to beg. To me this sort of thing is private, I won’t be sharing what I have or have not done to support victims of this horrendous crime. But so many people have emailed me asking how they can help, where to send money, begging for guidance, here is a link.
Thank you everyone for your comments, emails, twitter and plurk messages. I feel guilty about the outpouring of love and support when I have lost nothing, and others have lost so much.
I will bring the bitch back asap and answer your questions from this post.
I will leave you with this: