Extreme Worrier

Extreme worrier that I am, in the past two days, I've elevated my award-winning worrying to new heights. I've been so worried about the fires and the toxic air that I haven't left the house. Like 99.9 percent of Angelenos, I've been glued to the TV, watching parts of the city ignite. I flit from channel to channel, getting different views of the wind-driven flames... (12-7-17)

I wrote the above when the Westside homes of my in-laws, dear friends, cousin and aunt were in danger. And here we are, a year later, and many dear friends have evacuated their homes in Calabasas, Agoura Hills, Westlake Village and Thousand Oaks.

Preceding the fires by a day - the horrendous shooting at Borderline Bar & Grill, where my close friend and neighbor Candy has taught line dancing for 23 years. By a miracle she wasn't there that night. Another close friend's son regularly attends College Night at the club. He wasn't there on Wednesday, either, but his best friend was, and barely escaped the carnage.

So what can we do at times like these, other than worry our keppies off, hold our loved ones tight and keep good thoughts for the people we adore? All we can do is offer consolation and a place to stay, hope for the best and try not to breathe in the smoky reminder that life is fragile and absurd.

A rare Mandarin duck in Central Park