Worsened by the drought on the West Coast, a seemingly unquenchable inferno is eating up the trees, the brush, and anything that gets in its way. It's like the fire is a living thing, one that wants to get free and consume everything.

I'm rarely forthcoming about even our general location, for the obvious privacy reasons, but I want to share what it's like for a real family – mine – to live on the brink of disaster for an extended period of time.

For the past week and a half, we've wondered on a daily basis if THIS will be the day that our home burns to the ground, consumed by wildfire. We've wondered constantly if we will have to evacuate in the midst of cooking dinner, if someone will pound on the door in the middle of the night, or if the fire will jump the creek at the bottom of the next canyon over.

Natural barriers have allowed us a modicum safety, but we've been very watchful. This isn't the usual article about prepping. It doesn't contain a checklist with all of the things you need to pack. There are plenty of those out there. This is a diary of what it's like to live in an area that has been declared a disaster zone, and to be able to see the flames from your porch. It's about the state of being ready for action, but not being able to take it…and instead…just waiting.

It has always been my plan to bug in, but sometimes Mother Nature says otherwise. In situations like this, the most important preparedness skill you can have is adaptability. You have to roll with what comes your way immediately, and resist the urge to grimly stick with Plan A.

On the first day of the fire, I had gone through our BOBs and the safe with our documents. There was a distance between us and the fire, and although I was aware that evacuation was a possibility, it seemed rather unlikely.  Nonetheless, I made certain that all of the necessary items were there…the identification documents, the necessary personal items, the insurance paperwork. (You can find great evacuation checklists HERE.)   My daughter had gone away for the weekend with a friend's family, and I worried vaguely about what would happen if I was forced to leave home before she returned. I sent her a message and gave her instructions that if for any reason she was not able to return to our home in the mountains, that she was to be dropped off at a family friend's place that was further down in the foothills, and less likely to be affected.

I was even more relieved than I had expected to be when she arrived home. We sat down to watch a movie and pushed the fire to the back of our minds for the evening.