It is about 100 degrees where I live, and big chunks of Southern California is burning.  It's not so great for my asthma, though it's not nearly so bad as it is near the fires, where the air quality has actually been listed as Hazardous.  Marina, if you are ok, please let us know, ok?  I've been trying to restrict exercise, but I will have to get back to it because they say this fire might go on for two weeks.  

Last week I was at the grocery store and noticed a man in uniform behind me.  I asked "police or fire?"  and he said "fire,"  and I saw the LA County Fire Dept. badge.  I gave him a thumbs-up and said "I really, really appreciate everything you do."  I'm so happy I said that now.  I would never have the courage that these men and women do and I'm so grateful for them. 

I'm also worried sick about the big cats at the Shambala Preserve.  These are all lions and tigers and panthers, mainly who have been abandoned by stupid pet owners, or who were abused.  There are over 70 of them, and it's nearly impossible to evacuate them.  (Get 70 lions out on a two lane mountain road?  Um, no?)  So the staff has dug in.  They do a fire drill every six weeks, and they have a big fire break and a 22,000 gallon water tank and a lake and water hoses, and I hope to heaven it's enough.  I love every kind of cat, as you probably have figured by now, and I have a special kind of anger for people who decide that oh, hey, it would be cool to own a tiger, and then get rid of it.  

I'm trying not to think about it, because I'll be really sad if things go badly, but I can't.  And of course I'm worried about the people, too, though I do wonder why anyone would think they could "ride out" a Southern California wildfire by sitting in a hot tub.  Regular animals are being sheltered at the Pasadena Humane Society.  I just sent them a donation.

Also, anyone who feels like saying something like "well, it's their *fault* for living in a fire zone" :  I give you the back of my hand.  People like that have NO CONCEPTION of how big these fires get.  You don't have to be a millionaire living in a fancy home in a brushy canyon.  You could be some ordinary family living in a regular suburb.  I don't have a lot of patience with people who talk a lot of stuff about how the victims probably should have been living somewhere else.  When bad stuff happens, you pitch in and donate to the Red Cross, and send messages of support.  You save your criticism for later.

ETA:  GREAT.  Yosemite is on fire, too, and my parents are supposed to go there on vacation on Wednesday.  I'll call them tomorrow and check in with them.  I doubt they'd be in any specific danger, but my Dad has asthma too and a lot of crud in the air would not be good for him.

ETA 2:  My parents are going to Yellowstone, not Yosemite, duh.  And whew.

Via the fine folks at Sparklefield:

Wuthering Heights reprinted with *Twiight* style cover.  Twifans express disappointment.

Actual quote:  The novel might be flying off the shelves, but readers posting reviews on Waterstone's website weren't entirely impressed by Brontë's writing. Giving it just one star, Hayley Mears wrote that "I was really disappointed when reading this book, it's made to believe to be one of the greatest love stories ever told and I found only five pages out of the whole book about there love and the rest filled with bitterness and pain and other peoples stories".

This is really too bad.  Personally, I think Meyer's understanding of Great English literature is kind of reductionist.  Romeo and Juliet, Wuthering Heights, and Merchant of Venice are all about the love stories for her.  That's a pet peeve of mine, especially with books like Pride and Prejudice and Jane Eyre:  yes, they are love stories, and they are ALSO about other stuff.  Jane Eyre in particular gets big points from me when she has to decide if she is going to stay with Edward Rochester, because she knows he will do something desperate, and she should save him from himself, and after all he's the only one who cares for her:  "Who cares for you?"  and she responds to herself:  "I care for myself."  I can never think of that moment without a huge mental BOO-YAH.  

Incidentally, I was on another site where someone suggested that people who liked Twilight had never read anything else, and I shot back that that was definitely, demonstrably, not true.  It ain't my cup of cougar squeezins but that doesn't mean that no literate, intelligent people like it.  I think some of the argument that people make fun of it because it's a romance novel with a mostly feminine audience has some merit.  

I did a tiny bit of playing yesterday.  Not a lot.  Having work sitting around makes me feel guilty.  But I'm nearly done with drafting my theater business essay.  Now I need to add in the actual footnotes, which is a PITA and why so few people want to be theater historians.  Also, a super-sekrit crocheting project is nearly done!