home sweet home

I woke up at 3:34 Monday morning because my right arm had lost all feeling. Panicked, I sat up. As the nerve-needling slowly began perforating the numbness, trickling down from my shoulder to my hand, I smelled smoke. It was coming from outside, streaming in through an open window beside my bed. I looked out to see a huge fog-like cloud hovering just above us in the night-black sky. Thus, my day began. After following LAFD's Twitter announcements, checking the wind forecast (again and again), and then finally receiving a mandatory evacuation order text, we started to pack. It was 5AM. Family photos, irreplaceable art, passports and jewelry first. I'm not going to lie: I spent a good chunk of time in my closet, figuring out what really needed to go in the car pronto, and, truth be told, it wasn't a lot. (Yes, some exceptionally great/old Zara made it into the suitcase, along with one-of-a-kind vintage and my most beloved investment pieces.) While my kids loaded up their favorite possessions--two teddy bears and a drawer full of Nerf bullets among them--I thought about the irony of Architectural Digest featuring our recently renovated home on its website just three days ago and how, worst case scenario, it would be immortalized in some fashion. Right now, though, all I can think is how grateful that we, our bodies and those in our community, are safe. Thank you, Los Angeles Fire Department.

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