Changes my friend...

I came home from a call just now and found both boys in the yoga Tree pose. Miles has been doing it for a couple weeks, for Taylor it's a first that I know of. So I joined them.

Update!

Brave New Words was a success, and a lot of other water has passed under the bridge.

My beloved, Jody, is still working, and house sitting as well. Seems like maybe this winter she won't get laid off, which is ironic because currently I am. Maybe more on that later. She's also house sitting. She'll come back from one job, and a week later head off for a two month stint up by Freeland, which is a paying job though. And she heads to New York to help finalize her late mom's belongings, then I will be in the house, taking care of the cats and dogs, with no TV or computer. Man, can you say devoted practice time? No, not my drums, my meditation practice. It's about a lot more than just being quiet.

Jode is still on the grief cycle. One of her friends recently had a son pass on, and there are plenty in Jody's family, the aunts and uncles, that are seeming to get ill and pass on almost en mass. But I've watched this woman over the years, and she isn't taking it sitting down. She processes things like nobody I know, and what with losing her mom and sister and other family members before Vasu passed on, it's just been her life for the last two years. She still gardens, visits with friends, laughs, and basically lives life, just with grief as a companion for now.

Taylor is working as close to full time doing dishes and food prep at Prima as he can get, and otherwise gardening. He just landed a job today, prepping a house for the winter. So he's going to use the winter work to prepare for the next summer's solo flight, as his co-worker has moved away. I've seen his handiwork, having done the gardens for a former client of my boss, and I've see him work. He has quite the ethic. He's teamed up with Jody and really done a number on the gardens here. It's been a joy to watch.

Miles is going to London tomorrow! He's going to visit an old friend, and when he returns, he assumes the position of sous chef at the Prima, a local restaurant. He will also likely be moving out soon thereafter, so Taylor will get his own room and Miles will get his own place. Being the sous, he's quite busy. It's a great opportunity though, because the Prima has great owners, good staff, and a good sense of what it means to serve a quality dining experience. A chance to prove himself is what awaits him.

As for me, well, just the usual insanity. Still doing the firefighter/emt thing. I took the test for officer last year, and unless the district floats the test again, the results will void out in two months, three tops and then it's a do over. Might not go down that path again. I like the activity, but as a career, I'm not so certain I'd head that way. Why, well, I'm experiencing a change in values I think. I'm more into plugging in locally, which is why I applied to the library board vacancy. I was approved, but it's somewhat of a better expression of a growing vision within me to see the community I live in grow towards the future. Maybe a city council seat sometime down the road. For now though, the library board suits me, and getting more involved with members of the city council because of that work. I'm also still organizing poetry readings, and currently I'm engaged in the play, Wind In The Willows, which is being produced by Whidbey Children's Theater. It's been a while since I did theater, and I remember why I stopped! However, I love the cast I am working with. I also started drum lessons, just before I got laid off. Levi Beurkle is my teacher, and I have plenty of time to learn the first set of rhythms he gave me. Add some fills, and set a pattern for three bars, add the fill, and come out into a different pattern for three bars, well, you get the idea. For all the playing I've done, it's proved to be difficult for me. Which is why I'm doing it. I knew I needed some better skills. Particularly if I want to make this a paying vocation. A local gig would be nice, and session work.

Being laid off is giving me time to re-examine what I want to do with my life from an occupation point of view. I heard recently that the level of income a person makes is a direct reflection of how many people consider them an expert. And relative to that is rethinking my own writing, and just what the possibilities are for marketing it successfully. So I am in the process of creating a business plan. It's time to quit counting on any one other than myself for my livelihood. And it seems like I could garner that from several sources!

I was talking with Robert Gilman the other day, and he used the analogy of being a midwife for change. It's going to happen whether we like it or not. How it happens depends on the skills of the midwife. I like that. As much as it's been easy to polarize politically, it isn't the most productive. Is it not better to help the change occur positively rather than harshly? So it was a challenge to me. Every being is trying to be happy, and not suffer. It is my calling to help facilitate that.

Brave New Words

You read that right. Brave New Words is indded the new resurrection of the poetry festival that happens at Greenbank Farm every year. It was originally conceived by Victory Schouten and Stephen Roxborough, and is again! So keep April 18 open for a visit to Greenbank Farm, and a day of great artistic performance.

The sponsors and donors are getting aligned, the volunteer staff is coming into shape, and the date is set. This year includes a youth element that will have it's own happening on April 17 at Langley Town Hall, and the "winners" of that event will appear at the BNW main event. There are several excellent local poets who will be reading, and some headliners that are alumni of Hedgebrook, a local writers refuge for women. Moonraker Books of Langley will be our bookseller at this event, and authors will be available for book signings at times throughout the day on April 18. And the setting of course is a great venue. There will be food available, there is a lovely little pond, a great big field to walk in, and little shops to visit, including a wine shop where wine is available for tasting.

So an early thanks already to the staff of Brave New Words, for the vision and work involved in making this expression of the literary arts accessible to the people of Whidbey Island. Come on out and make a day of it!

Oh, snap! Yessiree, for us it's a snap all right. A winter snap like I haven't seen since moving here in '02. We even ditched the snow shovels when we moved here.

If you look closely, you'll see our van in the background. The driveway was shoveled with, well, actually Taylor and I raked it.

Mind you, we're going on a week and a half of freezing temperatures, and today was our second snowfall in a wee, and there's allegedly more on the way this Saturday. So I guess it's a good thing I'm getting tires Saturday.

I think I'll look into chains as well. After all, on Sunday we head out to Michigan. All four of us. Our first vacation together as a family. The little stipend I make for a years volunteer work, and training and classes and duty shifts paid for the tickets. With $50 to spare. Here I was figuring that we'd be leaving our island where it rains and is grey and coolish to head off to frozen tundra Michigan. Silly me. By the looks of things, I'll need those chains on Sunday. Todays higway trips in Seattle, through which we pass to get to the airport, were fiascos. Just log onto KOMO 4 news and look at the archives. While you're there, check out their archives for the fire we had on Monday. Two houses lit off, well, one lit off and the other by virtue of guilt by real close association. Past the third alarm they simply called for all available bodies. that's when I left work to help. I leftwork at 0900, and returned after lunch. I work til four, and the fire crew was just leaving the fire when I left work. When I left it at noon or so, I was helping the overhaul operation, and we were preparing to foam down the remains of the second unit to prevent any reignitions. Anyway, the KOMO 4 helicopter buzzed over us a couple times.

So Happy Holidays to all from the frigid Pac Northwest! Next week when we are in Michigan our island will return to it's normally scheduled environment.

Whoa baby! Was I wrong. I am now updating this post when I should be in Michigan. The weather is what went wrong. We headed off the island on Saturday, knowing a new storm was coming in. We ran into it on the highway about half way to the airport. So it was 30 mph the rest of the way. We checked into our hotel, which is the best way to navigate early flights. The next morning, it started snowing again, and the flight cancellations, begun the day before, started escalating. For our airline, our flight was one of two canceled. So we strarted the options train rollling while the snow continued to fall. One option was another flight. Those were all standby, and the computer and phone systems at the airlines were beginning to fail. Another was to rent anSUV, which just might be cheaper than four tickets, and drive the one way to Michigan. The one and only option wanted $2000 for said trip, sans SUV and gas. Considering the mounting threat of closed mountian passes, we ruled out that option. Another option was to ask for our money back and try another airline. At the rate flights were cancwlling, those flights were dwindling fast. We found one, and then the trick was trying to get through to the original carrier for a refund. So Jode checked her e-mail, and lo and behold, they had already moved our reservations to three days out. Considering that she and I had been on the phoe with the carrier, Northwest Airlines, several times that day and all referenced to our confirmation number, it was rather frustrating that nothing had been said to us about the change. So we left for home.

In the snow, at 30 mph all the way home.

And it snowed. And snowed some more.

So much in fact that we now have a foot of the stuff in our yard. And we are possibly getting more! Arrgghhhh!

I'm still trying to get to Michigan. We have another early AM flight, so today we will leave for Seattle, and hopefully catch a flight out tomorrow morning to join the family in Michigan. Tonight another front moves in with the possibility of more snow. Not much, but if the airlines get nervous and cancel flights because our airport isn't designed for snowy runways, then we might be back, no. I'm not going to believe that.

Michigan here we come!

(By the time we get back, all this snow will likely be gone. That will be weird.)

Changes are blowin' in the wind!

From this:
















To this!

And so we are about ready to move into our new facility. That should begin any day now, as from this view you can't see the equipment inside that belongs to various contractors that are finishing up their punch lists and tasks to get the inside completed. The walls are painted, the bays are done, last minute electrical/security systems are being dialed in, and eventually we will need to begin removing the "stuff" from the old station to this one. Furniture needs to arrive, which doesn't amount to much, and the exercise equipment. Oh yes, we have a training room which I will put to good use. This view is looking east, and our house is actually about a half mile further east. And there is a possibility that I may end up the first resident officer of this station! Our captain is retiring, so the Captain of station 35 will oversee us, and come December and the Officer's test, either Wayne or I will be the next Lieutenant. Yes, the changes.

And our little community here has changes galore in the works. There will be a levy request for a community rec center with pools. That's a luxury in my mind. There is also a request coming for a new harbor project. Somewhat an infrastructure for us, as we already have one that does bring in revenue, or so it claims. I know the Sherrifs office will be requesting a levy, as they put out a whole page ad detailing the facts of their underfunded nature relative to the size of the community we live in. And of course most folk can't tell when the Fire District last asked for a levy lid request.

In this state, the fire district gets their money from property taxes. Years ago some bone head decided that we needed a law that capped property tax increases at 1% a year. So that somewhat limits the budget we have. Our whammy comes from the fact that any time inflation exceeeds that 1%, which it does every year, we lose money. So compound those loses for almost two decades, and you begin to wonder just how we get by. We did get new breathing apparatus equipment this year based on a grant. New laws now require that our bunker gear can be no older than 10 years, due to a breakdown in the liners ability to protect from heat. And that stuff isn't cheap for a well financed department, which many rural volunteer departments aren't.

Ah, the changes.

This year Langley will host it's first Oktoberfest. Not that we're heavily German around here, I think the community is finding ways to not only draw us together, but also draw in tourists. I've never been to the Leavenworth Octoberfest, and given a rather Bavarian looking town and some fall colors, they might have a leg up on us. On the other hand, from here it's three hours into the mountains. Close to the same for Seattlites. So maybe if they get something good going, it just might draw in a crowd. We have the Mystery Weekend, Soup Box Derby(more of a local thing), Choochokum Art Fair, and DjangoFest as major attractions for our area. It's actually kind of fun to watch these efforts.

The big change, and controversial it is, is the Island move to establish a public utility district. A PUD. Both sides are financed from involved groups, and obviously the big money is with PSE , our current provider, who once referred to our area as "losers," in the sense that they don't necessarily make money off of us relative to the cost of deliver and maintaining that service. Which of course has begged the question why they are fighting to keep us from being our own district. Right now in fact, PSE(Puget Sound Energy) is on the auction block, and an Australian group is seriously looking at it. So the signs are up, the mailers are going out. The paper and local internet forum are filling with arguments pro and con.

Myself, I want it. I want it and the switch to alternative energy sources. Renewable sources like wind, sun, and tide. I'd say geothermal, but I know nothing about it. I want local control and free renewable sources. I figure a decade to put it all in place would be worth the investment.

Oh, these changes. Do we just continue with the status quo, or forge ahead in new directions? That seems to be the question we face. Come November, at least so far as the PUD is concerned, we'll see what our area, and maybe country, are made of.

A Day At The Fair

The smell of Karmel Korn and barbeque float in the air. The sounds of various musical acts blend together with the voices of the judges from the animal arenas if you stand in the right place. Ears of roasted corn on the cob walk by, waiting to meet their fate with the teeth and stomachs of hungry fair goers. And I watch it all.

I see the single mothers with their kids, alternately looking for entertainment for the kids and a guy they can escape into. Some are just their with their kids. An altogether lovely thing to see. Some dads are present, some there in body only. The teen age girl asking their friend "Who else is here that likes me?" Their peer male counterparts in packs trying to out-cool each other, yet cognizant of the pecking order.

The older folk who remember when the fair was an agricultural attraction with the latest flowers, the big animals, the equipment, the canned goods, and what quilts were made by the ladies of the island. They move more slowly, sometimes with a lost look in their faces at the new fangled facade of the attention to musical acts, the carnival attached to the fair, and the availability of so many more food choices than when they were young. In the heat they start to look worn out before they crash. I watch it all.

People off their meds, or on too many or the illegal kinds, occasional drunks who make their way in, the politicians carrying on their own circus, the strutting teenage hormones, little kids with wonder in their eyes, the animal people in their own part of the fair and world with boundaries where the rest of us mingle with them briefly. People who eat too much, get too hot, and go for the rides anyway and end up in the medical both complaining of nausea. We let them puke in private. The patient with an allergic reaction, a chest pain complaint, and all four at the same time. Sometimes lending a hand to the team to get these people what they need. I watch all this too.

I monitor the 18 calls we received this day while so many our our emergency responders are at the fair. An unusual day. And people walk by laughing, kids with stuffed animals, and people digging the sun, the music, the food, while an ambulance drives away to the hospital, someones truck is on fire a couple miles away, and the marine team is rescuing someone who has fallen into the water miles away from where we are, in lives completely separate from the fair.

Food on sticks, the flip-flops, boots, and heels, the skirts, tops, or lack thereof, hair do, jewelery, uniforms, decorations, long lines to get curly fries, the tired, overwhelmed, bored, happy, plugged in and dropped out, connected, young and old. I have been there, I will do that. Or not. This is my home fair.

I breathe in, and watch it all.

Another Year Gone By

It hardly seems possible. But my dazed brain says it's so: another year, marked by the Fair, is only memory. Except for maybe the pound or two I might have gained....

I tried this year to mitigate the inevitable reality of eating fair food. The medical booth, which serves as Fair Command for us on duty, is also stocked with all the ususal belt busters: processed chips, candy, and pop. We do have water, and I drink it a lot.

It still amazes me how this period of frenetic energy is so exhausting. I came home last night after my shifts, and made like a vegetable. Then I realized I wanted away from it all, and returned to a book. But he fact remained; I spent two days essentially walking the fairgrounds as a Medical Responder, or standing at ease, whether at the Public Education Booth, Safety House(a fire simulation experience), or the Fire Suppression truck. And I came home tired.

I'll let you know now exactly what it is that makes me and the rest of us tired. it's the same insidious reason that fire fighters and EMTs have shorter lives by 7 years on average. It's a little chemical called adrenaline. It makes you go from zero to "hero" in no time flat. It makes for fight or flight, and isn't supposed to be on allthe time because it creates stress.

So I can't walk around the fair at ease. I'm in a constant state of hypervigilance. For example, I'm at the Pub Ed booth, where we let kids spin a big wheel and then ask them a safety related questions. They get a prize no matter what. Even the little guy who was absolutely mezmorized by just spinning the wheel got a prize because he was so spell bound. It's a riot. I love it. However, kitty corner(any ideas where this phrase camer from?) from the Pub Ed booth is the dog kennel, and between the sight of people falling down and the sounds of angry dogs, I bolted into action. I can do so only because my adrenaline is already in mid-gear, just looking for a boost. And the radio on my hip....

Thankfully, the dogs were well groomed enough to be more bark than bite, and no one was hurt, except for the uncharacteristic display of their "well trained" dog. So it was back to stand by mode, and digging on teaching the kids and their parents little tricks that could save their lives.

And eventually eating. And since we have to reamin on the fair grounds, it means fair food. Which I tried to control this year, and think I hit on something. Part of it is not wanting that "I ate the whole thing" problem. Because if I suddenly need to go, or am assigned to a call off the fair grounds, I don't want that feeling slowing down my body or brain, which in our heat this year, makes us do what the fair goers do: suddenly reverse the eating process.

So I didn't get a funnel cake this year. Or cotton candy, sundays, or any of the stick foods. I had a scone Sunday morning with coffee. And , the roasted artichokes were good, as was the roasted corn. And if I actually skip lunch, and eat mid afternoon, I then eat less over the day. And I don't hamper the ability to jump out of stand by.

On Saturday, besides the four patiente we had at once, two of which we sent via ambulance to the hospital, we had 18 non-Fair calls over the course of that day, including a marine call which was quite serious. That's a busy day. That's a day when we look for people ready to succumb to heat, or teens fighting, or unsafe activities of carnies around their rides, or people choking, puking, bleeding, passing out for whatever reasons that have culminated at this marking of the year on our island.

When Sunday night rolls around, I'm finally glad to be done with the dozens of smells, the cacocphony of sounds, the myriad sights, the fair food tatses, and I'm ready to go home to a quiet house. I'm ready to reflect on my shifts, and what we did and could do better. I'm ready to let my self get out of stand-by, which is sometimes difficult to do. I think I need to hit the training room this week.

Another year begins....

Headin' down to the farm...

Yup. Goin' down there, and raise me some crops. Gonna sit on the porch, eatin' cukes and watchin' the hay grow....

Yea right.

Actually though, Bur Oak Acres is a community farm here on Whidbey Island that I stopped in at with Jody. A co-worker of hers runs it. Turns out to be cooler than I thought.

Interestingly, I've been sort of looking into permaculture lately. And lo and behold, here comes an opportunity to work on a farm. And I have no doubt it's work. been there. Done that. On a real dairy operation.

Anyway, this will be raising the crops of which we get a share, and the rest is sold at the Tilth market here on the South End of our Island. Tilth is the market where you have to grow it to sell it. Which is what Bill, the owner of Bur Oak Acres believes. And you see that symbol right there to the right? That's the group that certifies that the produce Bur Oak grows is natural. It means the soil is natural, because it's tested as so. The standards are much higher than the federal standards which are only designed to benefit large food corporations. The CNG certification deals only with farmers that supply local markets utilizing sustainable agricultural practices.

So Jody thought I'd be interested, and I at first was hesitant. When the scope of it, and how it fit into some of the stuff rattling around inside my head, I shifted gears. The input is only a couple hours a week, and frankly, I'm not sure they want my black thumb anywhere near the plants. A lot of the work involved deals with transplanting starters to the field, and I honestly question my abilities to do that. What the hell am I saying?! No I don't. I just need to learn. I can however contribute to the maintenance of buildings and the like. I do however, want to learn the growing process. So how cool will that be to be involved in a great learning environment that results in food on my table? For a couple hours a week? Seems like a no brainer. Jody was right as usual.

It brought back memories of the days when we thought it would be cool to drop out of the plastic society we rebelled against with our pot smoking and music, and live on and off the land. Once we went up to Wisconsin with two friends who had two friends who lived on the farm, and when we visited we sat on the porch and ate fresh cucumbers. Ah, that was the life, eating fresh food, talking about the issues of life, all on the front porch in the quiet Wisconsin rural land.

Then I worked on a farm. In other words, I had to remove the rocks, disc, chop, bale, and stack hay, milk the cows, clean the barn, and all the rest of it to be able to sit on the porch and enjoy that cool glass of fresh milk. And my boss had no porch. So I learned first hand that a lot of hard work goes into small return, at least on certain scales.

Bu the times they are a changin'. I know a couple local restaraunteers who are looking for local produce to use on their menus. The local grocery store buys from local farmers. The local community web site has a forum that is getting more attention with this issue of people wanting locally grown natural (can't say organic, the feds might sue) produce on their tables.

The idea of permaculture is looking at how we can do that on an individual basis. In other words, here at my house, developing not only gardens but food production that works with the local environment and uses no pesticides or herbicides, but depends on natural systems for that as well as capturing rainwater for the irrigation of it all. At least, that's my nutshell grasping of it.

So it seems that the universe has offered me an opportunity which I won't say no to.

Headin' down to the farm with the missus. Shall we bring you back a tomato?

Meanderings...

Are we not having unusual weather here on the Island?! According to the Yard manager, whom we lovingly refer to as Yard Boy, especially if imitating a rich. pretentious woman, states it's the weirdest weather year he's seen in decades. Unfortunately, it's wreaking havoc on their sales.

Life is a hive around here lately. Both boys are back at home, and getting on their feet. Taylor is working with another lawn service, and he's moving toward operating it while the owner goes overseas, which to us Islanders, or South Islanders, means Mukilteo as well as anywhere else. But this guy is headed to Indonesia. And their season is getting into high gear now.

Miles wanted to get out of Seattle again, and is working for one local establishment to learn the kitchen management aspect of cooking, and he will later this summer try for another local kitchen that leans toward French style so he can learn a bit of that.

Eventually, both will want to move out so as to live their own life style. In the meantime though, it's quite busy when they are around. Which seems to come in bursts.

Jody is working the yard now at the nursery, and doing the best she can. Her mom died last November, and her sister has cancer that isn't surrendering to antidotes. She also found out this week that a co-workers wife was given two weeks to live, and a former co-worker's five year old son may have to undergo chemo again. So it's been hard on her.

Her and I have been watching the Oprah event on Monday nights with Eckhart Tolle. It's based on his new book, A New Earth. I'm on my second time through, which is to say that if I recommended any book for people to read this year, A New Earth would be it. That followed by Wayne Dyers The Power Of Intention. Both books have been quite important to us, and we think would do wonders for any who read them.

Speaking of reading, I just finished On The Road by Jack Kerouac. I loved it! At times it seemed a bit sophomoric, but that's just me. His style was very different, as were the experiences on which he based the story. By the time I was done, I was quite impressed. Now I'm onto The Dharma Bums.

Which comes slowly, like the other story did. Why? Well, I keep the book in the work vehicle, so the only time I read it is during ferry trips or work lunch breaks. Otherwise I have been reading Tolle's new book, and Jay Feldman's The Day The Mississippi Ran Backwards. That was a good book. I had known for years that part of the bluff my in-laws had built their home on in Wisconsin had been busted up by those quakes. So I decided to put it into context, and Feldman's book does a good job of doing so.

Otherwise my reading these days is limited by my attendance at Fire Officer Academy. I'm aiming at the Lieutenant test in December, and this class is the prep for it. Besides the text (thankfully small) there are several other items to read up on for the test: Haz Mat Operations, Principles of Foam Fire Fighting, that sort of stuff. Enough to dominate my reading time though.

And in all this activity, we continue to rise every morning and breathe. We are grateful for the health we have, for life in general actually. That we are learning, working, laughing. Some good meals, and good wine, times of silence, and some of loud music.

Our lives remind me of canoeing Canadian wilderness rivers when we were in high school. They were narrow, meandered, and you never knew what was around the corner. Sometimes it meant getting out and carrying everything. Or pitching tents on 10 degree embankments in the rain. Eating dried sausage while soaking wet. Sometimes it was a beautiful vista. Once it was a moose. A real close moose.

We are learning to flow.

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.