Natural (and unnatural) disasters and me...

I would describe this past week as both wet and smoky.
It was one of those weeks where you try to plan for stuff, and those plans go buy-bye, which is okay, because as I thrive on action-y stuff. Like I've been told before, I'm "coffee-ready" or "copy-ready," can't remember which one it was.
Anyway, Thursday was insanity, weather-wise.
We have this tree at work that is on the left-side of our building, and it has super-shallow roots.
Combine that with the amount of rain we've had this month and the 40 mph winds gusting through town, the tree started to rock.
The roots started to lift up under the ground, and we could see the ground lifting up. It looked like there was a giant taking deep breaths laying under the ground.
My co-workers called the landlord, and I called public works. Turns out the tree doesn't belong to the city or to our landlord.
We basically hung tight for the rest of the day, after being instructed to call 911 if it toppled over.
Meanwhile, I'm out taking photos of puddles and downed trees, in the process, soaking the very un-weather appropriate ballet flats I wore that day.
I went home to put on better shoes and get a hat, and I'm there for about 30 seconds when I get a call for a tree that blew over into a house.
Luckily, everyone was okay, and the only pain I endured was dealing with a very sarcastic battalion chief (he was funny.)
I get back to the office, still pretty soaked, but okay. About an hour later, one of my co-workers receives a phone call from her hysterical sister.
"The sheep are drowning!"
In my town, like others in the area, we use sheep and goats to eat weeds and overgrown grasses in preparation for fire season, and to keep things looking pretty, to boot.
With all the rain dumping down that day, the poor little sheepers were up to their necks in water, but luckily their shepherd was able to herd them to higher ground, so there were no casualties.
I don't think I fully dried off until about 11 p.m. that night.
Fast forward to Saturday, had a pretty fun day.
I had the urge to just get out of Lincoln, and go do something fun, so Christy and I bummed around Roseville for a couple hours.
I took her by the Starbucks I first worked at in California, the same one where Andy and I met and fell in love.
I was pretty disappointed with the visit. It didn't have the same fun and friendly energy it had when I worked there, and I've worked there twice. Once from 2001 until 2004, and then again as an assistant manager from 2006 to 2008.
Both times were awesome, and I think there was that emphasis on taking time to get to know every customer, and to laugh and have a great time while working.
Oh well.
First we checked out Nice is Twice, a consignment shop in downtown.
We were there for two hours.
We did not buy anything.
I'm pretty sure the shopgirls wanted to check our bags when we left.
They did not.
Since, even for a consignment store, it was beyond my budget, I took to task trying on ridiculous clothing, while Christy was semi-seriously looking for clothes.
I tried on prom dresses and hats from the 1940's. I sort of have a thing for hats, especially if they are from 1950 or earlier. There's just something so elegant about that time period, because a lady never left the house without a hat and/or gloves.
Since we both didn't have a lunch budget, we took advantage of Whole Foods "try before you buy" emphasis.
I have to say, the Roseville blend olives were my favorite, and who know I had never tried cashews, M&M's and yogurt pretzels before? ; )
Next we hit the Antique Trove, and I think Christy realized just how much of a creepazoid I can be, because I kept finding the scariest items there, like a scary snowman and a clown that looked like he could have been Adam Carolla in disguise.
It was there that I realized I am too damn young to be too stiff to bend over and look at stuff, so starting Monday, I now run.
I don't like to run, but the happy feeling I get afterwards outweighs the suffering during.
That night, we went to dinner with Andy's grandma and mom, and went to bed thinking we had the next day off together.
We were wrong.
I will be the first to admit that getting me to do yard work takes lots and lots of arm-twisting.
So we were outside raking, weed-wacking and weed pulling on Sunday, when I heard sirens.
No big deal.
We live by Fire Station 34, and sirens are a pretty normal thing to hear.
After hearing more sirens than usual, I started to wonder.
Then I looked up and saw the plume of smoke that looked close enough to touch.
There I sat torn.
The reporter in me was like: smoke+fire=camera and notebook.
The wife in me was like, first day off with husband in awhile.
The reporter won, sad to say.
But boy, it was an experience.
I've never covered a fire live as it's happening, and I learned so much about what goes into a fire fight.
This may sound weird, but I sort of had a good time. I can't really explain.
I was out there for two hours, but I think the smoke permeated my brain, clothes, cell phone and camera.
I slept pretty well that night.
Last night was a blasty-blast, too.
Chris and Jenilyn hosted Gramin's birthday dinner, and it was nice to see the family.
Wow, I've rambled quite a bit.
Good night.

Spring has sprung

I've been inspired to start writing in this thing again after reading my bud Christy's blog this afternoon.
It's been quite some time since I've posted, almost two years, in fact.
A lot has changed since then. Well, only one thing has really changed.
I'm no longer a Starbuckian, I've worked full time for my city's newspaper, as the only reporter.
This last year and a half has been quite a ride. I've been turning out as little as eight and as many as 15 stories a week, which has been pretty crazy but has helped keep me a busy bee.
Andy and Brody make me laugh every day, I'm so glad to have those two by my side every day.
I'm quite proud of Andy. He's been going to school for drafting and will be finishing up this year. I'm glad that he's found something that he loves to do, because that is so important.
I would say most of the time, I love what I do. I have met so many awesome people over the last year and have been through so many different experiences.
I'm wondering if I should change the name of this blog. Samsel isn't my last name anymore, but a friend suggested that I use the name "Samsel in Distress," and how often do you find a play on words that faboo?
I'm going to try and update this thing at least once a week. After reading Christy's blog, and seeing how much history is contained there for her to look back on, and with all of the random stuff I deal with, por que no?