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Let’s see, will it be a blue floral cotton or a black KN95 of sorts?
Somehow, if I dare to leave the confines of my house to do anything other than eat chocolate and worry about the cat population, a make-up mask is provided. Now I don’t like to wear things, but I am free from proud restraints and happy to do it for the common good.
But why, when the temperature drops to around 80 degrees, must the infernal shroud prevent me from enjoying the great outdoors?
I went back through my Southern Oregon Journal archival collection to retrieve some useful information on how to assess your chair’s smoke safety levels.
Oh, I know we can visit the AirNow website and get updates every hour, but that leaves the whole adventure out. So here are some observations made while battling a similar blanket of particles just over three years ago.
I have the spectrum down – green, yellow, orange, red, purple, and purple. Eh? Since I spend most of the day connected to a computer, it’s all too easy to go back and check for updates every hour.
It is quite frustrating to look at the smoke map provided on the sites. Just as our region begins to approach the green or even yellow spheres, the wind redirects the trail of fickle smoke into our valley funnel.
One thing I discovered is that the wind and smoke play a mixture of dodge ball and hide and seek, ganging up on Shady Cove first, then rushing through town to the purple things at Ashland. It encouraged me to be more spontaneous and to drive faster.
I don’t need a smelly index. I have one of my own. When I wake up and smell smoke, I know it’s smoky. If my eyes are burning but my head isn’t swimming, it’s probably in the Dangerous for Sensitive Groups range, and a medium-length walk is a good idea. If I don’t see my neighbor smoking on his porch, I stay inside.
For a backup, there is the shade and tint test. That’s when I pull out my Benjamin Moore paint chips and measure them against the depth of orange reflecting off my curtains and floor. Oxford Gold means I can probably take a short walk without a mask. If Orange Burst matches, a combined trip for newspaper and mail is allowed, and perhaps a birdbath. When Flame is in line, it’s time to collect the car keys and head to greener territory.
I’m sick of the word particles, but lingering in the dark narrows my focus and turns me into a fallen piece of sofa.
Good things are happening. People and businesses survive. The coast is clear. The TCM is still working and my bowl of popcorn is ready. I no longer hyperventilate when I open my VISA bill, because it has become thinner due to lack of indulgence. A short drive northwest and we escape into a blue sky, enjoy a few deep breaths, and reset the bezel.
The first morning in September always falls for me. Why wait until the 22nd to start celebrating my favorite season? This first frosty day of autumn, according to the Pegorian calendar, said 44 degrees. If that doesn’t mean the fall leaves are falling and the cocoa on the front burner, I don’t know what it is. It’s time to pull off the fake leaves and fill my friend Lynn with bowls full of candy corn or candy corn for when she comes to see old movies. It’s time to think outside the mask, even if I’m wearing one.
This week, I think and pray for those who will relive last year’s disaster, and I will give thanks for all the rebuilding of lives that has taken place despite desperate circumstances. A united community will not fall.
Peggy Dover is a freelance writer / author. Contact her at [email protected]. Find her books, “Stone Revival” and “Trips and Tangents: 101 Favorite Southern Oregon Journal Columns” on Amazon or order them at any bookstore.
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