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So everytime it rains I get a call from my mom who lives about 50 or so miles away - which is kind of far but not so far that we're not in the same weather system - saying in an a whispered tone that is supposed to sound urgent, "Molly...are you okay? Is it raining there? We just saw lightning! Isn't it exciting?" and all this other stuff. She loves foul weather because I think it makes her feel like life is so vital and tangible (or something, I don't know.)

But when, as happens every year in September and October, a brush fire breaks out and threatens our home, she's totally fine about it. This morning Keren called me to see if my family was okay because hers was being evacuated from a town nearby so I call my mom, certain that she will be frantic and exaggerating the situation but no. She's just casual. "Oh yeah, they said we should evacuate but your father is out of town and the neighbor said the winds changed so we're fine."

So I called my dad in Atlanta and he's totally unaware which is really strange considering that during fire season two years ago my dad was clearing brush for pretty much the entire neighborhood and it wasn't really even threatning our little sub-division. So I call my mom who's like, "yeah, I'll call you back" and then doesn't. And it's like, ummm, hello people?? This is not my role. I am not the one who makes a big deal out of things. That has always been your job.

So I don't know what to do but evidently harassing everyone I know who lives in that area via telephone isn't really helping anything.

Moral of story: Light rain, REALLY BIG DEAL. Huge brush fire possibly burning down the house, not so much really.

29 September 2005 - 6:05 PM

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Oh, brother.