All bets are off now.

Photo copyright Aji, 2022; all rights reserved.

I thought we were in deep trouble yesterday. See, about mid-photo, that diagonal brown line over the peaks? The camera filters some of the glare, but to the naked eye, it looked less brown and more gray, and my first thought was that the pyrocumulus monster on the other side of the ridgeline had made it to this side.

It wasn't; it was actually a gigantic dust devil racing along the slopes. We're getting multiples of them every day now, some more destructive than others. But time was, you would never get one on the slopes themselves; it just wasn't possible.

All bets are off now.

As to the fire, it was up to 280K acres at dawn and still growing, and they lost significant ground on containment over the last few days. This one could, theoretically, reach us. More frightening is that fact that we spend every day laboring under the knowledge that one spark will send this place up like a rocket, too.

I'm tired beyond description. So is Wings.

We were supposed to go the nursery this morning to pick up some things for the garden, and I couldn't. Yesterday's errands wiped me out too badly. And even though I push it down deep, there's always that grief underlying absolutely everything now, mourning all the things I can't do, will never do again, never got the chance to do and now never will. I'm so tired, and I want to weep, and I don't dare because everything is so terrible that if I start, I'm not sure I'll be able to stop.

And still the work has to get done. It's harder than ever; I'm largely housebound now, walking is extremely painful, and we both have to mask just to go outside, even here at home, because of the pall of smoke. We couldn't even make our supply run before the boosters this coming week that will send my symptoms further into warp drive, (and now we have to shoot for the week after, because fire and wind and animals, including the 7 extra horses our b-i-l has put in the adjacent field). If you've never dealt with acute pain that is also chronic, you are blessed beyond measure and you won't understand this. If you have, you will understand when I say that I literally do not have the mental, never mind physical, space for anything more right now. So, to the one think I have to keep doing, because it's what pays the bills and keeps the lights on and keeps the Tax Man off our backs (four figures left on '21, two more 4-figure prepayments for '22, and $4,500 in the offing for my upcoming treatment, assuming that it works). I have to make that first big tax payment very soon (like NOW), which means I need to make two or three grand worth in sales to cover it.

Wings did finish the first collection in the next round of his "Elementals" series, this one the first set for spring, and I did manage to get it posted late Sunday. You can see it here. With a little luck, I'll have his next set to post tomorrow, and maybe some silverwork earrings, as well. We will need to make consistent sales all year to cover the medical stuff, (I just got another unexpected bill for another ~$360 I wasn't told about, and I have to call, but I suspect I'll have to pay it) but mostly to cover what the feds are taking. Links are here:

• Sales here; 
• Testimonials here; 
• Amazon wishlist here (priorities are first and foremost, the other ladder, the Thermacell lanterns [the flies are already out, so the mosquitoes won't be far behind], and the liquid soaps, which prevent our hands from cracking and bleeding given that we're forced to wash them fifty times a day;
• Patreon here;
• Ko-fi here.

We're still hoping to put aside enough for a new well when the ground thaws enough to drill in the spring, too, Nah, we've given up on the well. No one's available to drill before the latter half of summer, and the tax burden means we would never be able to afford it anyway. But it's perhaps even more of a good time to make a purchase, because Uncle Sam is a vindictive colonizer, and my current stress levels about paying it all are off the charts. And there's lots of fabulous work, so please share all of the links. 

All content, including photos and text, are copyright Wings and Aji, 2022; all rights reserved. Nothing herein may used or reproduced in any form without the express written permission of the owner.