<html><head></head><body><div style="color:#000; background-color:#fff; font-family:Helvetica Neue, Helvetica, Arial, Lucida Grande, sans-serif;font-size:13px"><div id="yiv9307198207"><div id="yui_3_16_0_ym19_1_1510162417060_2863"><div style="color:#000;background-color:#fff;font-family:Helvetica Neue, Helvetica, Arial, Lucida Grande, sans-serif;font-size:13px;" id="yui_3_16_0_ym19_1_1510162417060_2862"><div id="yiv9307198207yui_3_16_0_ym19_1_1510157650973_23299">Hi, everyone,</div><div id="yiv9307198207yui_3_16_0_ym19_1_1510157650973_23299"><br></div><div id="yiv9307198207yui_3_16_0_ym19_1_1510157650973_23299">Time to check in. </div><div id="yiv9307198207yui_3_16_0_ym19_1_1510157650973_23299"> </div><div id="yiv9307198207yui_3_16_0_ym19_1_1510157650973_23299" dir="ltr">First, thank you Jane for getting in touch with Primo and bringing him into our loop. I've been in touch with him by email. He writes about Courtney with a heavy heart, tremendous devotion, and a faith that I hope will see him through. I've been shedding a lot of tears lately; Primo and Courtney are up there among the reasons why. And then there is Nan Fry.</div><div id="yiv9307198207yui_3_16_0_ym19_1_1510157650973_23299" dir="ltr"><br></div><div id="yiv9307198207yui_3_16_0_ym19_1_1510157650973_23299" dir="ltr">Update on my status:</div><div id="yiv9307198207yui_3_16_0_ym19_1_1510157650973_23299" dir="ltr">George and I have closed on a house in town, on the golf course to which we belong. We can move in November 13th. Right now we have little to move. I remind myself that when we first were married all we needed was a bed, and we made good use of it. Now we need one just as much - for sleeping. Some other items will come in handy as well. Bottom line, we need to get a few furnishings before we move in, but this is no big deal.</div><div id="yiv9307198207yui_3_16_0_ym19_1_1510157650973_23299"><br></div><div id="yiv9307198207yui_3_16_0_ym19_1_1510157650973_23299" dir="ltr">We are currently staying in a different house (not the one we have bought). The owners are in Arizona for the winter, so we can stay here until we get settled in our house. We prefer to be in our house sooner than later, however.</div><div id="yiv9307198207yui_3_16_0_ym19_1_1510157650973_23299" dir="ltr"><br></div><div id="yiv9307198207yui_3_16_0_ym19_1_1510157650973_23299" dir="ltr">Since the fire, I've learned a lot about insurance coverage. Our company, State Farm, provides different adjusters for automobiles, dwelling, and contents. We've settled the 2 cars, hope to have the dwelling settled soon (who knows what that means?) and have yet to make a dent in the arduous task of itemizing the contents of the house. The way I understand it is that we will receive the depreciated value (based on current replacement cost) of the items lost in the fire (everything). There is a 2-year timeframe in which one must replace the items. When we replace an item, we will receive the difference between the depreciated value and the replacement cost. What a nightmare for all concerned. There were at least 5000 mostly high-end homes destroyed in this fire in Sonoma County. There is no way they can all be rebuilt and refurnished within 2 years. The insurance companies are going to have to extend that 2-year limit.</div><div id="yiv9307198207yui_3_16_0_ym19_1_1510157650973_23299"><br></div><div id="yiv9307198207yui_3_16_0_ym19_1_1510157650973_23299">My days vary. Some days I seem to be ok. Some days I begin to shake with anxiety when I awake. Some nights I sleep; others not so much. We survivors often feel as if we've lost our minds. I'm not sure I truly comprehend what has happened. I cannot take it in. The enormity of the destruction is just overwhelming. That word is apt. I cannot bear to drive by residential neighborhoods that were formerly green and tree-filled and full of life and now are just gray and black and skeletal. As one says, it's like a war-zone, as if a bomb went off.</div><div id="yiv9307198207yui_3_16_0_ym19_1_1510157650973_23299"><br></div><div id="yiv9307198207yui_3_16_0_ym19_1_1510157650973_23299" dir="ltr">I've tried to sift through the ashes in a part of the house where I had some jewelry. I give up after two minutes. Our house is just a pile of ashes with assorted metal hulks of appliances, furnace, automobiles. Our piano is a set of metal strings. Our china and crystal is welded into ugly globs of broken bits glued with molten glass, charcoaled wood, and ash. Our wooded property is brown and black. I'm hoping some of the old oak trees survive. OK, this is making me cry.</div><div id="yiv9307198207yui_3_16_0_ym19_1_1510157650973_23299" dir="ltr">You get the picture. Yesterday as I drove by one horribly ruined area of town I cursed and screamed in my car, yelling at the top of my lungs to whomever. I want to kill whoever let this happen, but of course there is no one to blame. It was an act of nature (although some are suing the electric company). A similar fire burned the same area in 1964 - I had seen burnt fence posts along my property line. The difference is that then there were no houses in the way. </div><div id="yiv9307198207yui_3_16_0_ym19_1_1510157650973_23299" dir="ltr"><br></div><div id="yiv9307198207yui_3_16_0_ym19_1_1510157650973_23299" dir="ltr">Enough. I've sounded off here. I am sad and angry, but not all the time. When I get down I realize I must put on my armor and fight. I'm not re-reading this because I am on my way out the door, so apologies to Miss Jarrell(?)</div><div id="yiv9307198207yui_3_16_0_ym19_1_1510157650973_23299" dir="ltr"><br></div><div id="yiv9307198207yui_3_16_0_ym19_1_1510157650973_23299" dir="ltr">Again, thank you for all your support. I love you all.</div><div id="yiv9307198207yui_3_16_0_ym19_1_1510157650973_23299" dir="ltr"><br></div><div id="yiv9307198207yui_3_16_0_ym19_1_1510157650973_23299" dir="ltr">Nancy</div></div></div></div></div></body></html>