5 Jan 2013
What I wrote yesterday was meant to be a kind of balance on the 'goodness, it's still so cold' comments that weave thru Dig In - I wanted to share with you a Hobart experience of summer. I had no idea it would turn so personal.
Last night, after much manic pacing thru the house and hysterical crying, I took up my journal in an attempt to calm down and make sense of the day's events. This is what I wrote last night; I hope you don't mind me sharing something 'off-topic' again. My parents are an important part of my life, my kitchen and therefore this blog, so it seems right.
I have just heard from mum and dad after hours of no communication from them and horrendous news on the TV and radio. I am hysterical with relief that they are safe and their home is safe, but equally hysterical that so many of the neighbouring homes - evacuated, thank goodness - have been lost to the flames.
I still have no way of seeing my parents in the near future, as roads remain blocked and closed (though I dread seeing the area; from what mum has told me, the imagined blackened landscape is nightmare enough). But I am so grateful I finally spoke to them and they are alive. Somehow the dog is alive, though sick from the ash, and miraculously, those little chickens are all alive, though understandably traumatised. And mum and dad found a singed and trembling little possum, sheltering in the vegie garden. They rescued him, popped him in a safe tree and fed him apple peelings.
Today was Hobart's hottest day on record, with temperatures around 41. Just before the firefront descended, Dunalley's automatic weather station recorded a temperature of 55 [I should say that my parents live at Boomer Bay, near Dunalley, which bore the brunt of yesterday's hellish conditions].
At my place, the sky turned that ghostly orange-grey colour; ash fell thru the air as my neighbour asked after mum and dad.
Thank you to everyone who has called or texted me. Your concern is a great support to me in a terrible time. I will not truly be comforted though until I can see my parents again.