A lot going on!

Appearing soon in a blog near you! Yea, yea. That's why I'm a carpenter....

Major news shorts: Jody is still reeling from her mom having walked on, and her sister has a pretty advanced case of cancer. It bums me out to see her so sad. Her mom and sis were her two closest confidantes over the years I have known my beloved. Did I say years? I meant decades. Jode still tries to cope through work, and on occasion getting into her own garden. We are entering that stage of life though where friends and family will begin to experience the final stages of life as we know it on this planet.

And speaking of which, Jode and I have been reading the new Eckhart Tolle book, A New Earth. It is worth the second reading I am giving it now. Oprah Winfrey, the celeb, has been running a live webcast on Monday nights going through the book chapter by chapter with the author. So far we have had one week where we actually got unbroken reception. You are wondering where the segue is. Well, life as we know it on this planet is quite illusive, maybe even elusive, or even delusive. Consider this: When you look up into the sky at night, what do you see? We know from Hubble photographs that there are thousands more galaxies than we can even see in a spot of space about the size of a stamp just above the big dipper. That's how far away they are. Despite all that mass, what do we mostly see? Dark space. And if you zoom in on an atom, what do you mostly see? Little particles zooming around in empty space. If we removed all that space from our atoms we would be incredibly small. So what are we really? Are we the roles we play? The thoughts we think, or what we feel? Or something behind all that?

Tolle's book helps answer these questions, and in reality illuminates a path to genuine peace on this planet.It is altering us and the way we communicate with each other.

Which is good because our youngest son Miles has asked if he could move home for a spell. He is tired of Seattle, and wants to quiet himself and his pace down, and get geared up for his next life step. He's secured work and all that, so that isn't the problem. We'll just have a slightly more crowded nest here at the Harrison household is all. Miles himself is going through consciousness changes, so despite being crowded, there will be plenty of good energies mingling together.

Our oldest is trying to get out of our house, and now that he's starting another lawn/gardening season, he might be able to do that. He was comfortable in Coupeville, until his roomie took up with a new love, and then they didn't want to share room space anymore, and asked Taylor to vacate. So he's back to what he likes doing, and trying to gather new clients for garden work.

Jody is still at the nursery, fully in charge of the pottery and statuary. Which means a lot of lifting of heavy items, which she then puts out for display. Last year was a banner year for pottery. It made a lot of money for the nursery, tripling sales since Jode took over it. Plus she still gets into the garden shop and takes care of all the painting, and a ton of other little stuff that wouldn't get done at all if she didn't do it. It's even more poignant because they aren't necessarily things under her job description or title, but things that need to get done that others aren't willing to do. Jody however, is more concerned about making sure that the things that need getting done get done. If she ever quit, they'd find out the hard way just how much she does around there. Now that the weather is getting nicer, she'll start spending more time getting into her own garden. I think this year will be the deer proofing year. Meaning a fence of some kind. Our neighbor, as nice a guy he is, has decided that the semi-domestic creatures need to be fed, so anything for them, and there are a lot of them, is fair game. Mostly including our garden! He has his fenced in, and these deer hardly need to be fed as there is plenty of food, and no up-link in the food chain. they pretty much rule the roost as it were. Some get hit by cars, but overall the population will simply grow to the limit of the food availability, and then either disease or something else will draw down their numbers. Anyway, Jode doesn't fume about these pests as I refer to them, like I do. But now that it's affecting her investment, it's time to protect it.

As for me, well, I'm nearing the end of my nail bending days. I'm putting together a business plan for a cash machine of my own. My bro-in-law Tim directed me toward a web site that has been quite helpful in getting things done properly. I don't necessarily want to just occupy myself, I want to hire out the work, and move into another venture, and then hopefully a third one. That's the grand plan, but one step at a time. I find the most limiting thing is my own belief system about being wealthy. That too shall pass. And, because that doesn't take up enough time, I entered Fire Officer Academy. The Standard Operating Procedure for promotion changed around here. I'm in a station though with no Lieutenant right now, and come September, no Captain. The current Lieutenant is on leave, and may not be coming back. Mind you, the span of control might warrant a Captain and Lieutenant, but our span of control has been down to four at one point, and right now we are at seven, which requisites two officers. Two of those though are high schoolers who will eventually move on, and reduce our number again. But at least I'll be ready to serve, whether or not the opportunity opens up.

And there's still the poetry readings! I have some ideas brewing, so I'm off to contact some folk to make some of these happen! See you later!

Merry Chris Moose!

Yes, and a Merry Chris Moose it was. That's him on the right by the way. He's actually the oldest ornament that makes it's appearance on our tree. Jody, my partner in life, made him decades ago while doing a fund raiser for a church back in the days before we saw the light. And of course I dropped a double entendre there loaded with personal meaning that I won't bother explaining here.

So what made our Yule so special? Well, first, I had off work from the December 22nd through January 3rd. The boss decided to close the office during what is an unproductive time due to the broken week, and I loved it! Partly because I've always wanted this time off, and partly because I had a run with diverticulitis the week before, and the recuperation time was well appreciated.

Secondly, I got to see both my boys this year. They both live close enough, and so we had a house full, for us. And I always love seeing my boys, and so we ended up doing a bit more shopping that we might have, but it was worth it.

Third, and adding to the above mix, Jody's brother Tim was with us from Chicago. That's his mug below. He came out the day I got off, and was with us almost until New Years.



The cribbage board was mighty used while he was here, all of us taking turns with one another. We also did a bit of walking on the beaches and through the woods, trying to find that grandmothers house that seems so popular. We didn't have any luck finding it though. On the other hand, we saw some marvelous things. At the Saratoga woods we visited the massive Glacial Erratic Boulder, as it and it's cousins are referred to. One of the smaller cousins we saw at the Earth Sanctuary, but the one in Saratoga must the big brother. And Saratoga has some big timber in it. At Ebey's landing, on a windy day, we walked the trail that is actually the Robert Pratt Preserve loop trail. The vista from there is awesome, even on a cloudy, windy, winter day. That trail sports Douglas firs that have grown up in the presence of the salt and wind, and the difference between those and the parked relatives is quite remarkable. We ventured off trail a little bit. It was fun. And to our wonder, just as we returned to the parking lot, a quintuplet of paragliders came out of the trees just behind us. Basically, it looks like a lawn chair of sorts, a "harness" it's called, beneath a parachute. But a narrow parachute designed for maneuverability. It inspired both of us to try it. They just hung there, and then with a dip they zipped along the hillside, or swung around to regroup. No motor, no noise. Hanging on the wind and thermals, like a colorful bird.

Jody joined us for the walk in South Whidbey. We wanted to get down to the beach, but the trail was damaged and hasn't reopened, so we did the trail that takes one along the Ancient Cedar. There are some massive trees in that park. On one off trail excursion, we found a nurse log that was almost six feet high! Consider this: we found a cut log in the Saratoga, having been cut to clear the path. It was a 52 year old tree, providing I counted the rings correctly. It was roughly a foot in diameter. Which on a statistical average, that nurse log we found would have started growing before the our first English cousins first landed on the shores of the mainland. And it will likely lay there for almost as long rotting. My great grandchildren will be able to see remains of that log, and then some! It also was amazing.

Our last walk was Maxwelton Beach, wandering toward Scatchet Head. There was lots of cool drift wood, and mayhaps I'll post those photo's later. I thought the most interesting feature was a recent slide, that had then become a small waterfall, but even more interesting was the revelation of the makeup of the slide. It appeared to be that very ancient compressed peat moss. It basically looked like wood that had been buried literally six feet under a very long time ago. That sort of stuff you find in the Possession bluff, and that makes up the eastern portion of the Scatchet tideland at low tide. And then to top it off, a bald eagle flew right over us on our return to our vehicle.

We of course did the usual gift giving and had some wonderful meals, like this holiday season is so well known for. But what made it all special, particularly in light of the recent passing of Jody and Tim's mother, was the enjoyment of one another and many long talks late into the nights. That to me is what it is all about in the end.

So from all of us, Tim, Taylor, Jody, Miles, and me (I'm behind the camera), we hope yours was a nurturing holiday season, and we wish you a happy New Year.

Pretty woman isn't she? Particulalry for being 70+! That's my mother-in-law, who passed away this last Saturday. Her name was Evelyn, but we all called her Ginger.


This green plant doesn't care.
It just keeps growing, taking out
the carbon and converting it
for me to breathe.
The gnat(what's that damn gnat doing here?)
doesn't care.
Nor the Rhodie outside, or the deer
(damn deer! stay out of the garden!)
or the neighbor that feeds them.
He doesn't even know the story of Ginger.
Nor do most the people in my
village by the sea.
But I've read the story now
for several decades, and have
been warmed, encouraged,
angered, and pleased by this character.

The story is over now.
I have flipped the last page,
closed the cover.
I will miss this character.
Having been a major sub-character
in this story,
there is naught I can do but reflect.

She may live on in her daughter,
but there will be no sequel.

Proud Papa

I'll have to add a photo of Taylor later, but since my hard drive is being fixed, I am doing this post from the library, on a computer that doesn't have my pictures. Which of course has nothing to do with my subject....

Taylor is my oldest boy. He has recently been attempting to generate his own business doing gardening and yard work. It has been fun listening to him as he learns different plants, which sometimes means taking a picture and visiting the local nursery. But he's learning. The work lately has been spotty, and with winter coming on, he decided that he needed a full time job. Also, because he moved a bit north and has no vehicle, his south end clients lost his services. But I got to hear what every parent loves to hear about their child: a compliment from another person.

Now Taylor has done some work around our house to help his Mom get the gardens in order. So I know he does good work. But we heard a neighbor who has had other gardeners work on her place that it never looks as good as when Taylor does the work, and she would really like to have him come back.

Getting a full time job will basically mean that this woman will be his one "weekend" client. But when the chips were down for Taylor, he did what he needed to do to take care of himself and be responsible. He's out on his own, and learning to live as the master of his own fate. I remember those days. I'm still trying to figure out though just what has been mastered....

Miles surprised us the other day and came in and cooked us a meal. Miles as you may recall is a chef, and that's him in the photo above. Actually, he disowns the term "chef." To him it denotes a journeyman status he doesn't feel he's achieved yet. Right now he works a corporate restaurant in Edmonds, sometimes doing 1000 to 1200 meals on the weekend nights. Per night. So he's learned the ropes around banging out numbers of meals of quality dining. But like most chefs, uh, cooks, he wants the quality, the creativity a smaller kitchen affords, and so he has moved on. And we got a taste of how much his skill has grown.

Now perhaps this meal was a menu item somewhere. But I don't think so. Our appetizer was a cracker spread with a goat/cow cheese/truffle blend, topped with Serrano ham and caramelized onion and sprinkled with fresh thyme. That was accompanied with a bottle of Syrah. Dinner was baked fingerling potatoes and stuffed red pepper sections. The stuffing was spaghetti squash, portabella mushroom, and mozzarella cheese an\again sprinkled with thyme. That was accompanied with a delicious Owen Roe Chardonnay. Desert was vanilla ice cream topped with a sauteed pear/banana compote and a sauce made of blackberry cordial (the berries were from our area and Jody made the cordial) which Miles reduced and then added cream and butter, and once again, lightly sprinkled with thyme. Yes, thyme on ice cream. It worked.

Miles knew how all these flavors worked together, and I quite forget where he used the truffle oil. But the cooking times for perfect consistency, and flavor mixing were well beyond my imagination, and yet with no recipes but what was in his head, he threw this together. Wow.

It is encouraging to see these young sons of mine, these young men, get a hold of careers, relationships That's Miles and his girl friend), and life in general. As a parent, it naturally scares and saddens me to see them moving away. (?! yea, yea, I know...) I guess I'm like every parent in that regard.

And on the other hand, I couldn't be prouder of both of them.

Catch of the Day!

This was the first! I got myself a license, and some new equipment and took advantage of what Whidbey Island has to offer. What I'm holding there is a "humpie," or a Pink Salmon. I also caught another larger humpie, and a Coho Salmon that was the biggest. Yummy!

I haven't fished in almost ten years, and I've lived here on Whidbey for five of those years. The fishing here is highly regulated. it isn't like you buy the license (a small piece of paper) which you pop into your wallet, some equipment, and hit a lake until such and such a date. Oh no. Here you get several pages of what seems like cash register receipt paper, and on it you need to record what kind of fish you caught, in what zone you caught it, and whether or not it was a wild or hatchery fish. If perchance the game warden came by and your shore count didn't match your records, the fine is more than the equipment, license and value of the fish combined a couple times over.

Anyway, this co-worker of my wife is quite avid at fishing, and quite good. He's been offering for a long time, so I had some extra moola from a project I was doing, and dropped some on a license and new rod, line, and the salmon's favorite bait: Buzz Bombs.

There are at least six species of salmon out here: Coho(aka Silver), Pink(aka Humpie), Chinook(aka King), Sockeye, Steelhead(actually a trout), and Chum(aka Dog). Apparently they all have their favorite Buzz Bomb. The Pink strike the pink Buzz Bomb. The Orange and Yellow Buzz is the favorite of the Silver, and they hit it hard and fast. Then there is a Buzz that is white and green as I recall, and the guy next to me, who was a local homeowner who's yard we were in, caught and released two King's on it. He was the only person using one, and the only person who hooked Kings. All the other catches followed the "rules" above almost as if they were rules.

So I learned what stuff to buy, besides the Buzz Bombs, how to rig a line, how fast to reel the particular lure in, how to identify the different species (thanks Bob!), how to kill a catch without crushing it's skull, and how to later filet it efficiently. Turns out my walleye filet knife was a tad too small for the Silver I caught. I need to upgrade. But my freshwater stringer proved handy.

Here's the days haul actually. The bigger one is the Silver. This is just prior to the cleaning.

It's actually a great time. Salt water fishing is a bit different, but you get to get outside and experience the world around you. Mind you, I'm looking at the Olympic Mountains, the Puget Sound, the vast bird life that exists around here, and the seals that use these same hunting grounds. So even if you don't catch anything, you get to be out and learn how the water is moving while absorbing the view. And, the anticipation of a hit on your line is a bit of a rush.

There is a lot to be said about the quiet of being in a boat in the middle of a quiet lake though. The Puget Sound isn't quiet. We were on the shipping channel side, so we had a couple container vessels go by, and being that the fog was still hanging in the middle of the channel, the sounds of their foghorns. We also have the Victoria Clipper boats that cruise between Seattle and Victoria Island, Canada. They use a water propulsion system which allows for higher speeds and a lot more noise. And then of course, after a ship goes by, the wake comes ashore, and is no gentle wave. Bit it's still fresh air, and the wonder of all that goes on here; the shipping, the seals fishing, the birds doing their thing, the different water currents and their contents, and us fishing. Just a couple guys learning a little more of their world around them in the hopes of hooking part of it for a meal they can share with their friends and families.

So I'm pumped now. There are a couple lakes around here that we'll hit for the fall trout, we'll go back for more humpies and silvers, and then there is a steelhead run in the fall, and a chum run. That might set me in fish for the year. But I look at it this way. For the investment of money in the equipment and license, it's worth it. I spent roughly $100 this go around. I caught about 12 to 15 lbs. of salmon. Go price that out and you'll see that the cost is almost saved in my first trip. Plus I have the experience of learning , and spending the time to prepare my own meal. I think everyone should do that just for the sake of doing it. It gets you to realize a couple things.

First, what it was like for those without refrigerators and volume farming. Every day was an expenditure of time to take care of soil and crops and animals, or being in the hunt for them, to put food on the table. It brings to mind the advantages of our type of culture, and the disadvantages. Second, it teaches you how to exist on your own. I am now capable, by the sweat of my own brow, of putting food on the table and heat in the fire place. Meaning of course, I use wood to heat by. There is a certain sense of satisfaction knowing I can do that, whether I choose to do that or not. If I had to, I could.

And last but not least, I have a friend with whom I can go out and just spend time throwing a small piece of lead into the salt water. Maybe next time the odds won't be in my favor. Or the moon will be out of Jupiter and into Moorlock, and my biofeedback chart states I'm off balance, or my chi will be all jazzballed. Who cares. I get a little bit of both cultures, in that I can spend time with a friend enjoying the outdoors, and if I catch nothing than I can have spaghetti for dinner.

Either way, it's a great time.

History In My Pocket

For Mother's day I decide this year to add another installment to my own Little Brown Pennies poem which I first composed for the mother of my sons many years ago. I put together a picture of each boy, a poem, and then a penny of their birth year. Then when they were both grown, I repeated the exercise, and this time added a quarter of their birth years, indcating the growqth of their years, and return on her invetment in their lives.

I thought I would do it again, and rifled through my pockets looking for dollar bills that might have a series of the needed years, but no luck. You know what I did find though?

A 1939 Jefferson nickel. The picture is the exact nickel, but I need to be a bit stiller than I could mange. You get the idea.

Here is a nickel older than I am. It was minted before the Second World War. I showed it to my oldest boy, and he asked, "I wonder how many pockets it's been in?" Isn't that a great thought?

When I consider it, that nickel has been touched by those at the mint (the Philadelphia mint), and that involves several departments.

First it needs to be stamped. Since I feel more research screaming to be followed, I will surmise that there were probably several rows of stamping machines in their own area. Extrapolating from my previous manufacturing experiences, the stamped blank was then loaded onto a cart with many others, and then taken to the furnaces for annealing. A possible caveat: the '39 might be the last of the all silver nickels, so maybe it wasn't annealed. Usually after annealing, a blank is washed and dried. Then the blank is loaded by someone else onto a cart and delivered to another area to be run through a machine that creates the raised edge on the coin. So at least three different people have touched my nickel already. Then it is edged, reloaded onto a cart and moved to the imaging area. Four different people! What are their stories? Do they talk about the Great Depression? The uproar in Europe? The sporting events of the times? Did they eat Philly Steak and Cheeses sandwiches for lunch? In the imaging area it becomes currency when the obverse(heads), reverse(tails), and mint mark are pressed into the blank. Then it moves into the inspection area, and if it passes the inspection, it is bagged and counted, and readied for shipping to the local Treasury branch for into the economy through the local bank system.

So after the four, the inspector, and bagger/counter have touched that coin. That's in my opinion a matter of at least seven different people before it is transferred from the Mint to the Treasury. And this all happened 68 years ago!

This coin survived the subsequent World, Korean, Viet Nam, Baltic and Middle East conflicts, not to mention the actions in Panama and Grenada. It also was a part of the incredible growth of the middle class in America when taxes and wages were high, creating the likes of which has been subsequently eroded. My nickel has seen all that.

So how many pockets has that nickel seen? Let's suppose that I save my change, which I do. I use it to buy books. When I realize I have a couple pounds of steel in my pocket, I cull out a dollar worth and put the rest aside. When I hit around $30 I buy a book I want. So it came from a previous owner to me. Then it will hit the bookstore. Then let's suppose it is offered as change to someone who does what I do. It then would make a least four to five different pockets in a year. Multiplied by 68 years, and that's 272 different pockets by incredibly conservative numbers. The reality is more likely twice that many, if not many more. Over 68 years, possibly 544 different people handled the nickel I now hold in my hand. Considering that the average life span of a coin is 25 years, I'd say that it was "saved" several times at least. Was it once an aspiring fortune, spent on a comic book by a boy named Stan Lee?

Has it been bet on the ponies? Bought a beer at a local Phillie watering hole? Flipped in a bet? Used at the Five and Dime? Was it ever part of the purchase of a ticket to see a baseball game? How many times was it used to buy food? Books?

I'm going to have a gas working on this project! First step, the Philadelphia Mint....

A Sad Day

As most of you know, a gunman in West Virginia killed thirty two people, and then he was killed. I even yet to hear the details. But I know it will raise the hackles of the gun control crowd, and the gun lobby, which seems to want to arm everybody.

Mind you, I'm all for the Second Amendment. I'm also for mandatory service right out of high school, for two years in the state national guard unit, and then a third year in the Peace Corps. After that third year, you can opt to keep your military issued long rifle and side arm. Then you are in the reserves automatically, fulfilling both aspects of the Second Amendment. But you are also given the rest of your education free. All the way through PhD if you can do it, or want to.

But what would be wrong with closing the loopholes that make it possible to buy guns at shows without any checking of anything? Here in Washington, we had a boyfriend with a restraining order shoot his girl friend to death. Once the restraining order was filed, there should have been a gun owner flag that went up, and alerted authorities to a possibly higher degree of danger from this fellow.

it's too late for that.

So what would be wrong with even a month long waiting period for a weapon purchase? criminal background, mental health, current legal standing? It might even serve as a cooling off period. The gun would still be purchased, and what's the hurry in a gun purchase anyway? And that is pretty much what gun control is about anyway. The fringe that likes folk to think it means gun confiscation are lying. Yea, a world without any weapons of any kind would be great. But we aren't there yet. And our Constitution allows for gun ownership, albeit relatively. So what really is the argument from the gun lobby?

If the cost of unfettered gun ownership is what our country experienced today, than the cost is too high.

Yes, it's True.

We have been here this long already. As the Certificate, and accompanying pin (already on my uniform) attests, five years is the magic number. It will officially be this December that I will have completed the five years, but the Award Ceremony is in March. We actually were feet on the island in August. Five years already.

And yes, it's true that I am Firefighter of the Year. Great likeness isn't it? That's my non-existent brother Hank, whose likeness adorns several thousand of these plaques. Everyone must like him. After me, you will never see another FFOTY from Station 39, as we are being changed to Station 34. Well, actually that change occurred on the 19th, but our on-scene accountability system includes helmet patches which still haven't been replaced, nor the Engine designation placard. Those are signs of a tight budget me-thinks.

So will I go after the first FFOTY at 34? Do I defend my "title?" Maybe. What I'm really aiming at is a rank promotion, and that in light of the time table revolving around the new station building which will happen in a bout 2 years. In the meantime, our current Captain is retiring, so a former Battalion Chief will resume his place. However, the former Battalion Chief will be retiring in about a year and a half, from work and the fire service according to him. So I nudged my Lieutenant, and told here she had a year and a half to make the jump to first female Captain. Which of course leaves the vacancy of her position....

So what's involved in this honor? Well, it's a lot more than just showing up. It involves attitude, being teachable, able to communicate , input, responding to calls, making the right decisions at calls, knowing the equipment, and attending drills. And in my case apparently, always being willing to jump into a political conversation. We have a great mix of folk out here, and it's pretty rare actually. I think most of it might be prompted by my letters to the editor.

It was a lot of hard work, and my wife Jody pays the highest price. To her I owe the greatest thanks for being so gracious and accommodating. Captain Enslow and Lt. Parker are constant sources of encouragement, and tweakers of performance to get it even better. And rightfully so, to all the medics, fire fighters, and instructors along the way, this award is a reflection of all the work they have invested in me. Island County Fire District 3 is an exceptional organization that I am proud to belong to.

The Famous Bayview

This is where Jody works. The red building is the farm store, and the white buildings are the garden store, where she functions as the assistant manager. The rest of the nursery extends to the right of the photo, and it is a stitched photo, so i could lay out the whole panorama on the desktop, but it won't work here.

Basically, it's an equal right angle, and about a third of the red barn is missing from the photo. It's as deep behind the garden store.

What makes this place so incredible is not only the organic emphasis, but the staff. Between them, they have oodles of degrees, and they stay current in their field. So the information about plants is up-to-date and thorough. And they are great people to boot.

Maureen owns the business. A wonderful woman whose spirit is way beyond her diminutive size. She's a good boss, and has become a good friend as well. Eric runs the yard. For a good time, yell out "Hey, yard boy!" He loves it. I met him before Jody worked there when I took a leaf to him, and asked what it was. Turns out it was a Mimosa, and it's a beautiful tree right in front of the Island Coffee House in Langley. The farmer that runs the farm store is Miranda. Always quick with a phrase, she knows her farm stuff. Duke is a part timer in the farm store on the weekends. Jody's direct boss is the living embodiment of Betsy Boop. Elly, Steve, the other Jody, Brian and a host of part timers and new seasonal folk fill out the cast at Bayview.

Part of the wonder of the place is the the corner it's located in. You can see a roof above the garden stores that runs perpendicular to the garden store. That's the roof of the Bayview Center, which is across the parking lot from the Bayview Corner, directly behind the farm store barn. The Center hosts many events from concerts to the Unitarian services on Sunday. The Corner hosts the Three Cat's Cafe, a cozy little place. The Fishmonger is also there, and it's a wonderful place for fresh sea food, and on a couple Saturday nights a month, a Seattle sushi chef comes over for Sushi Saturday Nights at the Fishmonger.

The Star Store of Langley has a satellite store at the Bayview Corner, and there is also the Hub, a bicycle shop. There is also an art supply store, a beauty shop, and the offices of the The Record, the south end newspaper. Upstairs is the front Room, that hosts dances and art exhibits among other events.

It's a busy place. Lot's of people, and of course that's the perfect environment for Jody, because she may not be political, or religious, but she is a people person above all. And believe it or not, that all makes sense, and in truth, the only sense.

This is where Jody works, and where a portion of this small part of the world we inhabit, are fortunate enough to meet her.

Here we are at Christmas time! Miles, Jody(in her new robe, and Taylor. I'm not certain what the image on the TV is.

Yikes! This is what it looks like today on my back porch. The temp is below freezing for the second day in a row, and that is very rare here. So is the snow. Yet this year we have had two falls of this quantity.

Not that it matters much. By Monday this will all be gone, as it will get near or into the 40s again, and the snow and ice on the roads will all be memories.

It's been an unusual winter this year. We've had four power outages already, and two of them were lengthy. One was four days long. That is a first in our time here. And we still have a month and a half left of what we consider the windy months! Yikes again!

So the plants have found their way into our dining area, in the hopes that the cold hasn't already killed them. The fire is going, in hopes of forcing the thermostat to stay off for a while, and keep our house toasty. Otherwise we stay off the treacherous roads, and wait things out.

The Big Red Ones

These are my toys! Not that I own them, but in that I get to play with them, and take care of them. You'll notice the sign above the bay doors. That's not who I volunteer for. Actually, the vehicles all say, Island County Fire District #3. The District annexed the Langley Department when Langley ran out of money to pay it's fire staff. Out of defference to Langley, who still owns the building, and charges us a rather stiff rent for it, we leave the sign up. However, since we are building a new facility on land we own in Langley, this will only be true for another couple years. As that process takes place, those pictures will be posted as well.

This picture was taken during the second extended blackout of the winter of '06. The first occurred after Thanksgiving, and the second one just ended. Our power at home came back up last night, anfter going down Thursday night last at roughly 8:00 PM. I have been on duty both those weekends as it happened to be. That simply means that I am in the red Chevy there on the driveway. It's a Medical Emergency Response Vehicle, or Merv for short. I have to respond to every call that has the vehicle numner in it. You can barely make out the black plate on the front there, but it says "A32". So any call with A32 means I go, despite the hour. Things were so crazy during the Thanksgiving blackout, which was caused by several inches of snow, that between medical calls I was dispatched by my area commander to check on trees and lines down, and help other crews fix those problems as much as we can.

I meet some really cool people during medical calls. It reminds me how every one is a fascinating story. And even though I learn about those stories in some rather dire circumstances, they are worth the learning.

Anyway, the truck on the right is the primary vehicle for our station, Engine 39. The one on the left is an old timer that still works, but is in reserve in case stuff breaks or all hell breaks loose. It's called the Marion, which was that company that made it, and it sounds comfortable and definitely identifies the one truck.

So those are my big red toys. I am honored to serve this community, and alongside some of the finest people in this business. Thanks for letting me play!

All in a day's Work

This is what I have to live with. It's actually a zoomed view from Langley looking east over the Camano Head, the south end of the Island. It's the sort of thing that makes up my work sites. And the day was rather grey, not sunny and calm.

ALL IN A DAY’S WORK

Wasn’t it nice yesterday? It was sunny and warm and calm.

Putting on cedar shingles in the rain. Weaving the outside corners, taking care to shed properly between the old and new. The water runs off the valley right above my hands and from my soaked gloves down my arms.

The gulls are hunkered down somewhere, the hawks too. Maybe the eagles have taken a ride to the higher elevations.

As much white as green is in the agitated water that crashes on the beach.

The wind whips my face, as does the Green Guard I hold in my hand, trying to get it on the wall. I laugh. This is all in a days work.

I watched a Red Tail on the wing take his prey in the ditch by the storage business along the highway, the Marsh Hawk and his mate being antagonized by the crows, and

The Blue Heron hunt along the edge of the rushes.

I understand that this client can be a pill sometimes. So I ask him about his hobby, so evident throughout his house.

His face lights up, and for a few moments we are friends.

We can see Mt. Rainier, the Olympics, and the Cascades that rise behind Everett. We can watch the evolution of winter that paints these gray rocks white, and brings out the talk of snowboards and skis.

A bounty hunter, an artist, a drummer or two, or three. Boaters, skiers, parents, coaches, hunters, fishers, all as colorful as the hats we wear, or don’t. I’m in good company. This too is all in a days work.

There’s a llama on the road, no, two. That guy looks like he could use some help, so I stop. I direct traffic and prevent the creatures from heading toward the highway. Fifteen minutes later I’m on my way.

Sometimes I need to crank on my attitudes as well a twisted joist, and I can tweak my skills a little bit more as much as a precise mitered corner. Every day is so different.

I like what I do, because this is all in a days work.

Hard to believe I let this go for so long!

I'm sitting here aching after a good day of client and yard work. the client work was easy, yard work is what it is. Just finished dinner with the missus, and now I'm ready to read something that is non-EMT related.

Weird segue, huh? But it's true nonetheless. I've been in EMT training since January. Every Monday and Wednesday night, and every other Saturday. Monday night was lectures, the rest of the time was spent doing 6 different scenarios of patient treatment every four hours. Then there was the workbook to get through. Needless to say, it kept us hoppin' and focused. Now that I'm done, I don't know what to do with myself!

So I mowed the yard.

So you want a good omelet eh?

This is easy. You'll need a pasta sauce of your liking, and Italian sausage left over from last nights dinner. yea, right. Prosicutto works well in this omelet too. So we have the meat, and now a few red bell pepper slices, some onion, garlic, some bruschetta, and shredded Parmesan. Romano works well too, as does mozzarella, or any combination thereof. Three eggs, spices like sea slat and tellicherry pepper, and we're ready.

First, put the mushrooms, onions, and garlic in a mix of butter and olive oil to saute about half way. Meanwhile, whip the three eggs together, and cut up the bell pepper and the meat. Remove the saute items, and throw the eggs into a skillet. Once the eggs begin to cook through to the top, flip them. Then cover half the eggs with the saute mix, peppers, and meat, and a couple tablespoons of sauce spread over them, and cover with cheese. Flip the omelet over into the traditional half circle shape.

Put enough sauce to cover the omelet in the microwave for 30 seconds. Remove the omelet, cover with the sauce, add several small dollops of bruscetta, and sprinkle with cheese.

A great addition to this is a couple slices of ciabatta bread. It is a hearty meal, so don't be afraid to share it with a friend!

I LAUGH ABOUT IT NOW

(THAT TEE SHIRT WAS MINE)


I was ready.
Well, as ready as
A twelve year old could be.

I knew all the words:
“Two all beef patties,
Special sauce,
Lettuce,
Cheese,
Pickles,
Tomatoes,
Onions,
on a sesame seed bun.”

I even knew the melody.

“I’m sorry,” she said, “that contest
ended last week.”

I felt like an idiot.

Decembers

DECEMBERS

Here I can look out on the world from

my office window,

at the cold December snowy rain.

I feel the heat of the room where my tie

closes the shirt around my neck.

Cup of coffee in hand, I gaze at the

seasonal decorations that brighten

my cubicle world of

steel and plastic, computers and

conditioned air.

Away from there, I hate it when my feet are wet,

when my hammer hits my cold finger

working in a tight place, bound in four layers

of clothes to keep warm...

the sawdust in my eyes...

the whipping wind...

I hear it's song.

The eagle hangs in the sky looking below for

food on the edge of the woods where

treasures of a new world are hidden.

As a fleeing ray of sun warms my face,

I realize I enjoy working

in the cold December mud.

Hollywood Gal

HOLLYWOOD GAL

She stood, framed in the doorway,

her wet hair all a mess,

leather coat, and

oval sunglasses.

She looks like a Hollywood gal.

"Those jeans are tight on her ass."

Nice.

Fleeting moments that are

the feeling of time.

This woman who is almost

my silver partner.

This Hollywood gal who's

really from New York.

Here is my heart this moment,

this morning.

Yellow Bird Week

Good morning ! Well, for most of the country it is good afternoon as it is almost noon here. Oh well.

I have been posting on the whale watching network out here, www.orcanetwork.org, and most of my posts have come from the vantage point of Possession Ridge, where I was involved in an extensive remodel project. The owners there are a great couple. One of those couples that despite the stress make working a joy. Anyway, the husband had told me that during a surgery recuperation period, he logged 43 different species of birds from his back yard. After working there, I have to believe him. And this last week he added another, and it was a week I call Yellow Bird Week.

The 44th species was the Evening Grosbeak, of the Fringillidae family. I had seen many a Rose Breasted Grosbeaks of the Cardinalidae family at the former home of the in-laws west of Madison,Wisconsin. The grosbeak has a very distinct beak shape, and is white in color for the Evening Grosbeak variety. I happened to be returning from the lumberyard and there in the front yard in a conifer were 6 of them. I was fortunate enough to get the glass on them, that's lingo for using binoculars, before they flew on. It is always fun to see a new species of bird.

So a day or two later, as we were soaking up the sun and view during morning break, I noticed a streak of yellow flash out of the berry bushes that border the sloped back yard. I managed to glass it, but it moved to rapidly, and it rather resembled the behavior of the male Ruby Throat Hummingbird. Let me explain. When the Rubies made it back to the island, we were in the back yard overlooking the Saratoga Passage, on break, soaking it in. This particular Ruby was zooming straight up out of the berry bushes, and then straight down. Up and down. All day long, though not seemingly for more than several trips at a time. Well, I saw this flash of yellow, almost orange, flash up and then down. Not what I would say was Grosbeak behavior. Why? The grosbeak is a nut and berry eater, and unless it was mating season, I would call the flashing up behavior that of an insect eating bird that spied a cloud of insects. However, that wouldn't be the case for the Ruby Throat. I think they are territorial, and since the females didn't show up for several weeks until after the male, I suspect that what we witnessed was territorial behavior. Anyway, I glassed the feeder, and there were some Grosbeaks. They looked too pastel though, not bright enough for what I saw. Hmmm, I pondered.

My question was answered at lunch time. Remember the sloping back yard? There is a road down the slope beyond the berry bushes, and of course the resident conifers that fill the hillside between the road and down to the bluff edge or the beach. I saw the orange/yellow flash light in the top of one of these Firs, and I pulled out my 'nocs. Yup. That's no Evening Grosbeak! Black bill, slender as in the case of many insect eaters, and a black eye stripe with and orange eye line, sometimes called a lore. Well, I told the homeowner, and it turns out it's the Bullock's Oriole, the only Oriole species that appears in this part of the country. That explained the insect chasing behavior and orangeiness of it's color.

Part of what is exciting about seeing these new species is that it opens my awareness and observation to that around me. Everything has it's distinctions. Think about it in terms of people. Nose size as opposed to beak size. Eye color, hair color and shape, instead of feet or talons, the shoes they wear. Trees can be viewed this way. No, not as humans. In the differences of their needles and leaves, the color and texture of their bark, and so on. The colors, shapes and sizes of clouds. It is fun to see the different species of dragonflies on this basis. The different textures of wood come alive. Look at the trim in your house, or different pieces of wood furniture. It is truly amazing all the beauty and diversity that surround us.

That's it for today! Believe it, I'm going to post a delicious recipe for Italian omelets next!

HOPIN FOR WHALES...

We were disappointed. At least I was, and that was when we got there. Fishing boats everywhere. I couldn’t believe it. Right in tight on the shore, where the whales would feed if they had a mind to be there. It seemed like this was going to turn into a walk accompanied by the constant drone of outboard motors.

The last time we walked Possession Point; I ended up with an earache that lasted a long time. It was windy that day, almost a year and a half ago. This day promised to be different: sunny and warm, gentle breezes. And on such a sunny day, why walk in the woods? So I suggested Possession Point, in hopes of seeing the migrating gray whales.

Well, there we were, motorboats and a rocky shore. What the heck. We decided to walk for a little ways, and see if anything changed. So we headed for the point that makes up the southern most tip of Whidbey Island.

Possession Point has two very interesting features. One is that the bluffs there contain the most complete record of Ice Age deposits in the Puget Sound area. The second is the wreck that is just inside the channel buoys about 250 yards offshore. That area is home to several Giant pacific Octopi. What makes these features interesting? Both are hard to see! The dive to the wreck is risky, as boat traffic and currents are challenging. And the bluff face is quite expansive, and you need to know what to look for to see it. Yet a lot of people walk by there without knowing either of those two features.

Which is how I felt our walk would end up. Featureless, save for the excellent company of my wife. I could not have been more wrong. That day revealed several treasures, three of which I’ll share with you.

One is a particular favorite of ours. Remember the marker buoy I mentioned before? Guess who like to hang out there? That’s right, the California Sea Lion. We heard them first, swimming around the buoy and barking. Eventually though, two of them made it up onto the platform, and soon enough it was quiet again, and every once in a while a flipper would lazily shift as they lay there and basked in the sun. Mind you, a person can visit certain locks in Seattle during the salmon runs and see seals a-plenty. The numbers of seals are increasing, yet the downside is the depleted salmon runs, which are also adversely effected by pollution and over fishing.

I have long noticed that my wife is more observant than I. Once I get focused on something, most of the rest of the world doesn’t exist. Here I was walking along, looking at the rocks, looking for small tidal pools. I heard, “Rob…,” which translated meant, “Rob, don’t move and look up.” So I slowly raised my head and there not 30 feet away on a large dead tree trunk was a Yellow Headed Blackbird. According to my Smithsonian bird book, that species rarely comes west across the Cascades. Yet here this one had crossed the mountains and the water to come to our Island! Thankfully, I had the binoculars. What a gorgeous bird, with the yellow head and chest on a jet-black body. It finally flew up to the top of the bluff and out of sight. I had seen that species once in the almost 47 years I lived in the Midwest. Here I see it out of its range and usual habitat on a beautiful Sunday afternoon on the Island.

As we returned from our walk we noticed a large bird along the shoreline. It looked like a young eagle, and what struck me was the way nature still happens despite the proliferation of boats, and there were still very many of them on this opening day of Lingcod and Halibut. They adapt to the changes we make, and keep right on doing their thing as if we weren’t here. Truth be told, I am walking in their world, they aren’t “visiting” mine. We rounded the southern corner to head back to the van. For some reason, we both turned to look south, and there headed right at us was a bald eagle.

Now, back in the Midwest, a bald eagle was a big deal. Around here, I see them regularly. I see their nests. I hear them. It’s almost, well, I was going to say commonplace. Like whales though, they are too magnificent to be common. We had seen the young one fly off to the west, around the southern shore. This one was flying north, along the east shore, directly above us, but not by more than 40 feet or so, and with talons full of Lingcod. A good 12 to 16 inch Lingcod. This eagle rested on a dead tree directly above our heads. And suddenly, we were interrupting his dinner! It kept eyeing us, and not until we moved on did he begin his feast on his still live quarry. My wife wouldn’t use the binocs. But man, those eyes, and the beak, and the talons on that bird. It was amazing.

So despite being disappointed about not seeing whales, we still had many treasures on our walk. Motorboats, seals, eagles, a rocky shore, and excellent company. It was time to go home and check on our sons. I had been hoping for whales, and was surprised by joy instead.