Reflections on Paradise

Three weeks from now I am scheduled to undergo an unpleasant medical procedure that has had me worried for days. This is of course a ridiculous waste of precious time, since for all I know I won't even be alive three weeks from now to undergo it. Clearly life is too short to hop on that train of thought. Nothing clarifies this truth more than the recent devastation of Paradise, California, a town totally obliterated by a forest fire a few days ago, killing some 48 people with the death toll mounting. The irony of the town's name is surely not lost on any of us; at least one newspaper editor took the cheap shot in a headline, writing "California's Paradise Lost." (I would fire that guy.)

Most people got out in time. As for the victims who were trapped in their homes, I wonder just how that went down. Imagine it: You're standing in your kitchen peeling hard boiled eggs for an egg salad sandwich and you look outside and see smoke far off in the distance, way on the other side of the woods. No problem, it's far away, you think to yourself. So you mash the eggs, chop up some celery, throw in a few capers and add the mayo, then casually look out the window again and the flames are in your backyard. Is that what happened?

Where I live in Maine is not currently on fire, so I'll consider this a good day. Still, with temperatures expected in the teens tonight, snow on Friday and more coming next week, there's plenty to worry about besides being burned alive. Thanksgiving looms, and one of my guests has requested yams topped with melted candy (okay, marshmallows), a dish I have never made on principle but will do so this year since the requester is my own son who, denied this traditional treat for his entire childhood, now at age 31 says he wouldn't mind "just a bite."

There are miles to go before that horrid colonoscopy. Today I'm in paradise.