Calistoga and the fires

Little sweetheart, there are terrible wildfires spreading all through California and today I got an alert on my phone that the beautiful little village, Calistoga, where I took you for your 31st birthday was evacuated.

Known for its hot springs, we drove there from SF the morning of the 13th and checked-in to a nice little hotel before trying out a few of the pools, like Goldilocks - this one too hot, this one just right. You had your enormous black sunhat perched on your head as we took a dip in outdoor one there and you wrapped yourself around me as I carried you across its length, the water coming up to my chin. Later, we went out to dinner at the lovely Calistoga Inn which had a restaurant and brewery (the latter, admitted, I sampled because you'd told me it was alright as long as I was with you, I should only drink when I was happy and how true - I could only ever be happy at your side). Passing through the lobby and peaking upstairs at the cozy furnishings and quaint decor we made a note to stay there the next time. And we took a walk through the sweet little main street. The next morning we'd booked you a massage - a whole hour and a half! - and I waited at a charming little coffee place writing in my notebook.

I so hope everyone in Calistoga is okay, my darling. And I pray that the sweet little village itself that holds such lovely memories of my time with you, our times together, is spared and remains as it was.