A day to remember

As I write this post, on Friday, Nov. 8, I'm doing a great deal of remembering. First, I'm thinking of my dad.

Anthen Hugh Hubbard was born on November 8, 1922. If he were still with us today, he'd be 97 years old. I feel blessed that I had him until seven years ago. My children, all adults now, remember him as one of the kindest, best people they ever knew. To me, he was Dad. His unconditional love carried me through all kinds of childhood and teenage crises, and strengthened me when the more serious adult challenges came. I always knew I could turn to Dad and he'd be there. I miss him.

The other memory associated with today is harder. It's also much more raw. Missing my dad can bring me to tears, but thinking about a year ago today is a whole other ball game. A year ago today, the most destructive and deadly wildfire in the history of California galloped through the county where I live. It wiped out the towns of Concow and Paradise, left 50,000 people displaced, and changed our county forever.

Many of our friends lost their homes and all their possessions. Some lost loved pets, a few lost relatives, friends or neighbors. 85 people lost their lives. The impact wasn't so great in my town. Although the fire burned within five miles of our home and threatened us with evacuation warnings, we were spared the flames. We were not spared all of the shock and horror. There's a hymn frequently sung in my church. The third verse begins:



     When dark clouds of trouble hang o'er us, and threaten our peace to destroy,
     There is hope smiling brightly before us, and we know that deliverance is nigh.

I can't sing it without tears. Any time I think of dark clouds of trouble, I remember stepping outside my home last November 8 and watching the black smoke, thousands of feet high, rolling toward us at 50 miles per hour, blown by the same winds that fanned the voracious flames. We lived in hazard masks for three weeks, doing our best to render aid to others while we all worked through shock.

My book, Sunny's Summer, the second book in the "Seasons of Destiny" series, works with characters who experienced that day as so many did. It takes place in the aftermath of the Camp Fire. In it, I've tried to give others the visceral sense of what that first day was like, and what the past year has been like for everyone who experienced it, each of us in different ways. Maybe, for me, it was a form of therapy, or working through the enormity of it all.

People here are recovering. Folks wear t-shirts that proclaim they are #ButteStrong or #ParadiseStrong. The first game of the Paradise High School football team this fall saw the stands overflowing with people who were moving back, or had sworn that one day, they will. Still, every community in Butte County has felt the impact, and nothing will be the same again.

Paradise may indeed rebuild, but it will take ten years before it begins to look like Paradise, and probably 30 years before the population numbers return. The population once here will not return, as displaced people scattered across the map, taking root elsewhere. Speaking of roots, most of the beautiful trees that did not burn died because of the toxins in the air and soil. The forest that went with the town may not fully regrow for a century or longer.

While November 8 means little to the people of the world, for me it's a private memorial day as I think of my dad. To the people of Butte County, it's a day that will live forever in memory, a memory we hope to make happier as life goes on.

Taking my cue from the sun

We're going solar. Again. The first set of panels, put up a few years back, have cut our energy bills so remarkably that, when we were given the chance to put more panels on our roof, we jumped for it.

We've been pleased with the solar company we chose. (Contact me privately if you'd like to know which one.) They own and service the panels, we generate power which we sell to the public utility, and we buy back power from the solar folks. So far, it's reduced most months' bills to a quarter of what they used to be, and the contract we have cost us nothing down.

Our public utility here in northern California has become something of a curse-word since the devastating fires a year ago. The fact that they're cutting power to households all over the state even as I write has not endeared them to any of us. My daughter put that whole question into perspective: "They say they want to avoid wildfires, so they have 900,000 households using candles." Uh-huh. It makes about that much sense to most of us.
 

There's no way to escape said public utility, but by becoming "co-gens" (makers of electric power), we feel we are fighting back, if only in a small way.

The first step in getting the new panels was some electrical rewiring. That happened last week. Abraham and Jesse were here for most of one day and they did a fantastic job. Soon the second crew will arrive and a bunch of healthy young people will crawl around on our roof, making said roof increase its usefulness and reducing the depth to which the utility company can reach when sinking its hand into our pockets.

It's one small step for humankind. I'm eager to take it.

Susan loves to hear from readers. Write her at susan.aylworth.author@gmail.com, or visit www.susanaylworth.com or her Facebook page, www.facebook.com/Susan.Aylworth.Author. Watch for Amber in Autumn, Book 3 in the "Seasons of Destiny" series, coming early next year. Books 1 and 2, Paris in the Springtime and  Sunny's Summer are available in e-book and paperback formats. Winter Skye will follow soon. Who knows? Stay in touch for updates. 

Goals

After years of setting New Year's resolutions which I largely ignored, I reached a point where I no longer set them. This year, my ambition was up and I promised myself I would publish at least five books in 2019.





So far, I'm on track. A MONUMENTAL LOVE, a novella in the Timeless Romance series, was released February 7. It is set largely in the Navajo Nation, in and around Monument Valley. Since my husband and I lived there recently, this was a fun book to write and something of a homage to our time working in and near Monument Valley among the Dineh.

Yesterday, March 20, the e-book appeared on Amazon for PARIS IN THE SPRINGTIME, the first book in my new Seasons of Destiny series. Lest the title confuse, my heroine's name is Paris. The story is set in a fictional town in the Sierras, called Destiny by the Gold Rush miners who first struck ore in this spot, now struggling to stay relevant in the twenty-first century. The paperback should be available by early April.

Now I'm at work on the second book in the series. SUNNY'S SUMMER picks up one of the people in Book 1 and tells her story. Unlike most of my stories, this one is definitely time-tied. We live in Butte County where the Camp Fire, which burned through most of last November, devastated Paradise and laid waste to much of the ridge above our town. More than 14,000 homes were lost, 50,000 people displaced, and at least 85 people died.

Here in the valley, we didn't suffer the same losses, but we had evacuation warnings, saw the fire burn without a few miles of our home, and lived under dark clouds of smoke for most of three weeks, wearing heavy masks to protect our lungs whenever we left home. We also saw the suffering of our friends and neighbors. For me, SUNNY'S SUMMER is an attempt to work through my own emotion about this catastrophe. I hope it brings healing to others.

As the year moves along, I hope to introduce AMBER IN AUTUMN and WINTER SKYE. I'm also considering a fifth book for this series.

So far, so good! If you wish, you can follow me along, checking up on me to see if I'll achieve this year's goals. As always, thanks to my readers. You keep me going.


Susan Aylworth is a wife, mother, former university professor, and author of 17 published novels with more to come. She loves to hear from readers. Contact her at www.susanaylworth.com or susan.aylworth.author@gmail.com, or on Facebook: https://facebook.com/SusanAylworthAuthor.