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Articles in "Island Life "

For a number of weeks recently we had our washer and dryer out on the back porch. The reason for this displacement was not as a banishing punishment or as a mini stay-cation to allow the machines a brief outside adventure before the wet of winter made time spent out of doors by objects with electronics an inadvisable alternative.

I am often to mostly running these internal monologues, which more often than not are where these scribblings come from. Writing things down is a means of purging the echoes, and it works well enough that there are times when I find myself the next day wondering what it was that I just wrote about, since I’m usually fairly certain that what is currently running in my head is a new tangential, mental squash game, banging around in there in search of an exit strategy.

As I sat down to this internets box this morning I came upon a headline in the lineup of what counts as news stories on my ATT or Yahoo home page among the many that reside there with their own amazing headlines like, you know, “the Best Frog Jumping Contests in Every State” or “ the Six Foods You Should Eat Today and Not Tomorrow”.

I will admit that back in the day, when the announcer at the beginning of each ‘Outer Limits’ show proclaimed that they were in control of both the horizontal and the vertical  on our TV set, I did not totally believe him. I did know where those control knobs were, and I do remember that it was the vertical hold that went haywire way more often than the horizontal.

In a time when I have been sitting on butt a lot while working on things in my magic computer box, to say that I walked uptown and back twice in one day is a bit of  a something. To say that I did it to be interviewed  for a live broadcast from the expansive studios of our own Voice of Vashon

I can remember those days in the darkroom when a batch of negatives came out of the tank with the curious purple cast that wet, black and white safety film has, and is especially noticeable when exposures were under what was recommended for a well balanced print to be made from them.

“Do we live in a world devoid of consequences, now?”     John Oliver
I was sitting on the couch the other night when Mr. Oliver posed the above question to Mr. Colbert, and not really jokingly, as one might have hoped. It was for the most part related to actions performed by the clown troupe from Trumpworld on a seemingly daily, if not hourly basis

We are once again to that time of the year when one can walk outside at most any time of the dark period and either sit or stand to drink in the darkness in a relatively comfortable ambient environment. It is also that time of year where nobility pays a brief but highly anticipated visit here.

I will admit it- I was trying to be clever with the title, switching lie for lay and thus making a phrase that is used to signify a perusal or survey of the condition or state of affairs of some situation, into the implied description of the latest verbal or written emissions from the current occupant of the oval office, and who we have previously identified solely as 45*.

 I was going to write this a few weeks ago when things were fresher, but I just had to complete the series on our swimming sojourn to the watery desert before moving along to something less fun. What I am referring to here is of course a return to the hallowed halls of Ober Park to remember all the good times we had there at all those past Park Board meetings

I walked passed a bag of papers on the way to the recycling place the other day and noticed a cover to a nursery catalogue- my first nursery catalogue- partly sticking out of the rest of the papers there. It was part of a bunch of stuff Wendy was hauling out of what used to be my office.

A portion of my time last Friday night was spent behind a video camera, a situation I have been known to find myself in as of late. The reason for being there was to record a panel discussion among four women who have been known to swim long distances in the open water, which in the purest sense usually refers to a fluid that is cold and salty.
 

As a member of the on again, off again group known as the Friends of Vashon Pool, I have been receiving emails lately that have been detailing the latest efforts to make the Vashon Pool a year ‘round facility. In reading what these e-epistles had to offer I was left less than impressed

I will admit it- I am addicted to the Trump Watch, in whatever form that might take. The reason for this obsession is fairly simple- we are looking for the end to the madness. The madness is of course that the president- previously noted here as mostly unworthy of naming and thusly designated as 45*- is actually the president, and the sooner he is un-presidented the better.

Last week, if nothing else, was an eventful one here on the farm, or whatever it is. As it was, we were named as the first family to lose power by the folks who came to get the troublesome half of the madrona off of our powerlines. It was Wendy who first noted that as a follow up to the airborne fir branch that took out part of her glass sunroof in that wind storm last October, that now a snow laden section of our majestic Nothofagus dombeyi had stripped her driver side mirror from the door.

I sat down to write something for this past issue, the first of the year, and there was nothing there. It was not because there was no there there, or that it depended on what one meant by the word “is”, or because a mission was “accomplished” and there was simply nothing more to say.

I don’t know that I have ever really been a fan of anything, in the sense that I have come to understand fandom anyway. I do remember becoming a Smokey the Bear ranger and getting a bunch of stuff from that club, but I don’t remember why.

There is something conflicted in thinking about infinity on the shortest day of the year. I suppose one could say there is something hopeful in it. But with the next delivery of hope balanced on the edge of some event horizon and threatening to disappear down a black hole, I guess hope is a requisite commodity once again..

I have been in Vietnam recently- the only reason I am not there now is because I am here writing this. Of course, I did not mean to mislead about my whereabouts- I wasn’t really “in” Vietnam. It is just that I have been immersed in hours of video and photos and listening to stories about one person’s experience of that war- hopefully soon I will be able to share this, but not yet.

“Before I built a wall I’d ask to know
What I was walling in or walling out,
And to whom I was like to give offence…”
            Robert Frost
            Mending Wall

I don’t know about you, but I found that the recent revelation that scientists had found something that would confirm Einstein’s theory about gravitational waves somewhat disturbing. I say this because, at least on the surface, the idea that it takes all kind of research and special equipment to discover something supposedly earth shattering, or at least physics-mind bending, is mind bending in itself.

When a clarion call rang out from the opinion pages of the Beachcomber last fall that terrorists had bombed the athletic facilities at the high school, I decided I should probably go take a look. In truth, David Hackett’s warning about the sorry state of many aspects of the VHS athletic facilities wasn’t really about terrorists, although the shock and awe contained therein smacked of sensational rhetoric.

Part of my morning ritual here and elsewhere generally includes the washing of the dishes. This is not because I am obsessed with cleaning, as a few people know all to well. It is because in a world cluttered and compelled by a variety of projects, it just feels good to wake up and finish at least one of them on a regular basis.

There is a box on the floor in our house that arrived recently with the shipment of objects, devices, artwork, clocks and toys from my parents’ house. Despite its daunting nature, I am slowly going through all of it, although compared to what got left behind, this task at hand seems rather small, but not insignificant.