SATELLITE

June 13, 2007

Under an overcast sky, with the thermometer locked on fifty, the writer went for his shower. 

Back by eight thirty he had settled in to write.  Being on the road for a while makes it hard to keep up with the daily details so notes are made and when time permits they are fleshed out.  Flesh has been pasted to bare bones now for sometime.

Later Onie got up, sat next to me and accessed the web.  Our computers are no more than three feet apart.  Mine couldn’t begin to find even a trace of the signal from the hot spot so the writing continued until we stopped for breakfast.

Cherrios and banana drenched with milk was breakfast.

Trying again I was able to get my web mail before returning to the stories.  Onie was back on the web, also.

To receive a TV satellite signal here one needs to be a Dish subscriber and have a dish that is at least thirty inches in diameter.  We lacked the big dish so we went shopping for one.  Our neighbor, Dwaine, gave me the card of the fellow that he got his from.  The guy brought it out, set up the antenna on a tripod stand, ran the cable and tuned it for him.  At what price he didn’t say.  We called the guy, Russ, his secretary answered and told me he was in the hospital receiving a blood transfusion.  He may be there a while and perhaps even be transferred to Anchorage for further tests to determine what ails him. We probably won’t be getting him to install an antenna for us.  We were on the way to Soldotna so we continued, stopping at Trustworthy to buy some clips before heading on to Radio Shack.

At Radio Shack we looked at an antennae and then at mounting hardware.  All they had was a roof or wall mount, no tripods for standing on the ground.  We thanked the young man waiting on us and left.  He had told us we might possibly get a signal from someone in the park if they had a dual LNB and were using only one side of it.  They would need to be not too far away.

Before heading back to the coach we stopped at the post office to drop off some mail and then headed to Safeway for avocados, milk, Clorox and non-iodized salt.

On the way out of the park this morning we had stopped to help Stu and Shirley get their boat ready for the summer.  The canvas top and its supports had to be put on as well as the plastic side curtains.  Then the battery was put in and connected.  We got fuel in the line and Stu turned the engine over a couple of times before it fired and ran. He shut it down after a few seconds.  They were ready to fish as soon as the boat was in the water.  We would help them with that another day.

The herbs and flower bulbs we bought in Anchorage were still waiting to be planted.  The planters were prepared and bulbs and herbs and tomato plants were put in their summer home and watered.

Readying the rods and reels for their work was next and I worked on two, one for me and one for Onie until she told me the grill should be started. It was near supper time and we were having steak, salad, mushrooms and potatoes.  It will be a real feast. While the grill was getting ready, attention was turned back to the rods and reels.  Stu stopped by to visit, thank us for the help with the boat and offer some advice on the satellite.  If we haven’t the equipment by Monday he will pick it up for us in Anchorage when he is there the first of the week.

We had our feast outside under the awning where it was sunny and warm with just a hint of a breeze. 

During our meal the resident cock pheasant came out for his evening stroll.  He walked down the hill to the south of us, stopping now and then to announce his presence with his raucous call, before continuing on his journey.  This evening it brought him close to us and we stopped eating long enough to get a snap shot of him before he went to the river where he flew across.

He has families on both sides of the river which leads one to wonder if he is Mormon or Hutterite.  

By nine the warmth was on the wane and we adjourned to the inside where it was still warm.

Onie got back on the web to check her mail, I still had no signal, and I played a game of Freecell before returning to writing.

With me working on the end of week three Onie turned her attention to resizing and placing pictures in week two.  Then she posted it to the website.  The keys on my laptop were still being manipulated to finish week three.

By ten thirty the goal of finishing week three had been accomplished.  It was put on a memory stick and given to Onie.  Se would have to transfer it to her machine and proof and edit the copy before doing her thing with the pictures.  It should be ready to post in a day or two.

Prior to tucking ourselves in we indulged in some fresh strawberries over hot whole wheat biscuits.  Both were covered with honey and whipped cream.

FIRST TUG

June 14, 2007

One’s reputation can be built in a single action or deed.  One caught in a lie once is usually suspected of being a liar and thus gains the reputation as such.  Much in a like manner on who steals once and is apprehended is thereafter thought to be thief although it may have been but a one time affair, brought on be desperate times or perhaps an unyielding temptation and too much opportunity.  Thus the saying that locks keep good men honest but do not deter thieves.

For many of us a reputation is gained through years of doing the same thing over and over, helping others, being truthful, being thoughtful and so on.  Through the years the author has established a reputation of rising late.  Late of course is relative and a certain president might argue what late is.  In the present context it refers to that hour of the day when most folk have risen and started their day.  In our present circumstance it seems impossible for the author to sleep past seven, except on rare occasions.  It is feared that some readers may take this for a change in the very character of the writer and having done so impute other undesirable changes to his being.  Hopefully this flaw is but a temporary one and will correct itself once the writer has returned to his winter home.

This morning he was up before seven and on his way to shower and was greeted with radiant sunshine and cool, forty five degree air.

Upon returning to the coach the coffee and tea were prepared.

Onie was up sipping on her coffee and ready to be handed week three.  Once on the memory stick it was loaded into her laptop and she began reading the stories, proofing and editing as she went along.

After a spell she took a break and fixed a breakfast of grits, eggs and sausage.

Yours truly continued to peck at his laptop.  When breakfast was ready the computer was abandoned in favor of the table and the steaming viands, waiting.

Our friend, Stu, likes to cook over a campfire, on occasion, and to do this he uses cast iron cook ware.  He carries it in a wooden box and the box and contents are quite heavy, too heavy for him, so I went over to lend a hand getting them out of his truck.  He also had a few other items tucked neatly away that needed setting on his deck.  With these little chores taken care of he and I sat and visited a bit.

Then I returned to the coach where Onie was still busy on week three.

We thought it was time for her to take a break so we extracted a watermelon from the basement, cut it and sat down to enjoy.  It was a small melon, the kind we used to call ice box melons.  The name has been upgraded to appeal to the baby boomers, personal size watermelon, but it is still the same melon. It was quite a treat on a warm afternoon as it was sweet right to the rind, tasting like the heart meat of its larger cousin.

Refreshed and hearing the ever present gurgling river slipping by put me in the mood to finish rigging the fishing equipment.  That done Onie and I padded down to the fishing grate for our first session of the summer. 

A large ice floe had come down river this spring and took out the fishing grate.  It also reconfigured the bottom so we had to learn where the holes and snags were.  We set to work with our flip, drag and retrieve, testing the bottom all along the grate.  Behind us the remaining trees showed scars where the ice had crushed against them, shoulder high.

Fifteen minutes into our session a red wiggled by my line, igniting a little more interest on my part.  Onie continued learning the bottom but felt no passing fish.  Perhaps another five minutes passed before I felt a strike.  This was not a red as he had actually taken the lure and you will remember the reds don’t bite, once in the river.  Well it felt like a good fish and slowly came near the grate showing itself, a twenty four inch rainbow trout.  There was no sense trying to land it as any trout over sixteen inches must be released and legally cannot be removed from the water.  A little slack line, a twist of his head, a shake of his tail and he vanished into the depths.

Further out in the river more fishing was taking place and by a much more adept angler.  A loon was working his way down river, diving and fishing as he came.  Loons are beautiful birds of black with striking white markings.  As the loon fished by us Onie captured his likeness with the digital camera.

A few more flips, drags and retrieves and we were both ready for a change of venue.

We opted for an early walk.  Along the way we collected some fireweed plants in the hopes we could get them to grow at our site.  For the most part they wilted almost as soon as they were out of the gravelly soil where they thrive.  Undeterred we carried them home, like small children, having faith that if they were put back in gravelly soil they would revive and flower for us, later this summer.  Back in the park we were greeted by several of the seasonal occupants who told us we were wasting our time.  They had tried the same thing and had only been rewarded with frustration.  We thanked them for their encouragement and went home.  We did get a shovel and scrape a little hole in the ground for our treasures, carefully placed their wilted selves in the ground, covered the roots and then watered them.  Time would tell if we would be successful.

Onie usually acts as the barber in our family and by the looks of my hair she hadn’t been practicing, lately.  She got out her gear and while I sat in the tub, on a stool, she lowered my ears to a respectable level.  Then the beard was trimmed.

After a quick rinse to get the trimmings off we opted to sit in the sun for a spell.  It was pleasant and quite comfortable without the usual evening breeze and the temp hovering at seventy. 

Supper was a real feast consisting of feral hog roast, mixed sautéed veggies followed by  ice cream bars for dessert.

At eleven our bodies invited us into bed.

THE WHOLE FAMILY

June 15, 2007

The scribbler got up at eight to bright sunshine and a light breeze.  The walk to the shower was quiet and quite pleasant as no one else in the camp was stirring.

Shower over he headed back to the coach where he stopped to check on the fireweed.  Some was looking very healthy but some looked not so good.

Sonny and Birdie were spraying for weeds and the writer reminded them not to get the fireweed.

Inside the coach the morning ritual of preparing the coffee and tea was carried out and while it was brewing last night’s dishes were washed and dried.

After a steaming hot cup of coffee, Onie headed to the shower.

In the stillness of the coach a few notes were laid down before the liberty toast and sausage were started.

After we had broken our fast I made what might go down in history as a bad mistake. I taught Onie how to play Snood.  She was a quick study and would probably beat me in a few days.  She, like most women, has great eye-hand coordination.  She will master the game quickly.

After such strenuous exercise we were tired beyond belief so a little nap was in order before we continued our day.

All day long we tried to get on the web and all day long we were unsuccessful.  The wifi was nofi.

After the nap Onie began working on cleaning the front part of the coach.  Watching other people work always tires me out so outside I went where I couldn’t see her labors.

Soon a feeling of guilt crept over me so I picked up paper towels, Windex and crumpled newspapers before setting to work cleaning windows.  They looked so good when I was finished that the three-oh-three was brought out and the rubber insulation and weather stripping was wiped down until it looked new.

Soon no day will be complete unless we fish.  To get in the habit we tried our hand for a while, with no luck, before returning to the coach.

Barb, who had provided me with three pints of fig preserves, and Sid came by to visit.  While we were discussing home, family and rigs, the three things most often discussed by RVers  the cock pheasant announced his daily rounds.  Soon he was just across the road from us, next to Dwaine and Bonnie’s rig.

Soon he was followed by the hen and three chicks.  We understand that on the family’s first foray there had been six chicks.  Now only three remained, the others having become a meal for an eagle, fox or large rodent, no doubt.

The male led most of the time but occasionally a chick or two would dart in front as they pursued some hapless bug.  Mama, too, darted here and there as she sought fresh protein.  Papa, in a dignified, some would say arrogant, manner strolled along picking at grass seeds as he passed.  By watching closely one could see a bug disappear now and again but he was too reserved to make a show of it.  Once or twice the family closed up enough to offer an opportunity for a family photo.

Then the children would run off on their own leaving the older folks behind.

None the less mom was never far away.

When the wildlife show was over we took refuge in the Marlin as the shadows were lengthening and the air cooling.

Onie served some snacks and then supper, salad with tomato, avocado, and greens with English cucumber topped with Feta cheese and a good dressing.  More pork roast followed.

Short work was made of washing the dishes and stacking them to dry.  We can do that here since the humidity is so low.

SNOOD FOREVERMORE

June 16, 2007

Sevenish found me headed for the shower under sunny skies and a balmy sixty six degree breeze washing over my bare head.  It had all the makings of another gorgeous day.

Coffee and tea were brewing by seven thirty while Onie dozed, rousing now and then when the odor of fresh coffee found its way to her nostrils.

By and by she woke, poured a cup of coffee and sat down to play Snood.  A few games later she took a hiatus so we could have breakfast, Cheerios topped with banana and soaked in milk.

Although Snood beckoned, there was still no connectivity on the wifi, there was work to be done.  She set about cleaning the kitchen and continued to work on the organization of the cabinets. 

Wherever the sun shines brightly it warms the air and it was certainly bright today.  When I went out to work on closet door latches the ambient air temperature was already seventy nine.  Last year we had many days when we never saw sixty.  This year may be shaping up to be a bit warmer.

With limited storage space the household becomes reminiscent of those of earlier days.  Large quantities are not easily stored so more frequent trips are made to the market.  Today we were off to Freddy’s, owned by Kroger and carrying a wide variety of their brands, and Safeway.  Milk, eggs, cheese, Bing cherries, Gen-Soy chips, pork chops and other goodies filled our baskets.

By the time we were back home at six the temp had fallen to seventy three with the sinking sun.  No, it won’t get dark tonight but as the sun sinks low and a bright twilight comes on, the temperature does go down.

With our new supplies in the coach we set off on our daily walk.  On the way to the store we had marked the different distances on our walking route.  Today we walked to the place where the round trip equals one and a half miles.  Our goal for the summer is to walk to Morgan’s Landing, a state park, and back which will be a total of four and a half miles, a lot of it uphill.

Back at the Marlin Onie worked at beating my current high score on Snood before turning her hands to preparing our supper of roast pork, kale and cornbread.  A cold glass of milk made the warm cornbread taste even better.

After supper my prediction of Onie taking the lead in high scoring for Snood came true and sooner than I had thought would be the case.  She had bested my high score by more than five hundred points.  Snood does keep a score board of one’s best ten games.  In that area I lead as my top ten overall scores exceeds her’s by some.

By the time we were Snood out it was eleven thirty, and still warm.  With the covers at half mast we went to sleep.

Onie returned to Snood and I embellished a few notes before we went to bed at eleven.

SUMMER

June 17, 2007

It looks like summer has arrived on the Kenai and some credit us with having brought it. Prior to our arrival it had been overcast, rainy and cold. There had even been a late snow and hard freeze which killed Strawberry Frank’s garden and his namesakes, his strawberry plants.  Since then he has been hard at work repairing the damage.  The last few days have been sunny and warm and this day, Father’s Day and Sunday, seemed destined to be more of the same.  LaVon, and other local ladies, love to wear shorts when it is warm enough but usually find that a Kenai summer only delivers a handful of such days.  Yesterday was such a day and most likely today would be another.

By eight the temperature was already at sixty two and climbing in the brilliant sun’s morning glow.

While we were sipping on our coffee and tea Onie remarked about the stillness in the park.  It was and had been for the most part a quiet summer so far.  Most of the sites are rented on a seasonal basis to folks who are older and have no children.  The occasional itinerant camper who does wander in and stays for a night or two usually has no children with them, either.  Thus we find ourselves without the noise and laughter that small children invariably bring with them.  We don’t miss the noise but we do miss the laugher.

After the warm beverages had been tasted and enjoyed for a while we both got our shower stuff and headed off o the lodge to clean off the accumulated dirt from the last twenty four hours.  I finished before Onie, she had to slow down for the curves, which I lack, and then we headed back to the Marlin to have breakfast and get ready for church.

Two games of snood were squeezed in before we sat down to Cheerios, bananas and  honey.

Dressed for church we drove off from a quiet camp.

First Baptist of Sterling is at the juncture of the Sterling Highway and Scout Lake Loop.  Scout Lake Loop passes a couple of what we call, good moose pastures.  These are boggy areas, often with a lazy creek meandering through them that have much lush tender growth for browse.  The tree line, on the surrounding hills, is not too distant and would provide a quick hiding place should the need arise.  As we passed one of these moose pastures this morning a young spike bull moose was grazing close to the road.  We stopped to watch a little and get a better look.  As he ate he walked and turned showing us just how thin and gangly he was.  His ribs were as distinct as strings on a guitar and Onie remarked about his age, probably a year.  If his mother was still alive he had been driven from her side when she had borne a new calf a few days earlier.  Onie, with the tender heart of a woman, was sure he hadn’t been eating properly since he was homesick and missing his mom.  She does recognize the fact that this is the real world where, when a being is old enough to fend for themselves they are sent packing, ready or not in their own mind, because mom knows best and it is best to provide for oneself rather than be dependent on one’s parents or the government.     

We cut our moose viewing short so as not to be late for church.

The building itself is one story, with a basement, and the sanctuary could seat one hundred fifty people.  This morning three fourths of the pews were occupied.  At the front sat three young folk, high school age, with their trombone, clarinet and flute.  They would accompany the piano and organ while we sang.  There was no choir loft so of course no choir.  When the service began the words to the various hymns were flashed on a screen for all to see.  We knew most of the songs but when one new to us was sung it was difficult as there was no music to follow.  Without this direction it was difficult, at best, to learn the music.

The minister brought a very good message on what it means to be a good father comparing our earthly fathers to our heavenly Father.  He was quite well spoken and enunciated clearly so Onie had no difficulty at all following him.

When the service was over the congregation crossed the road to a covered pavilion where they were to have a covered dish dinner.  We were invited but declined since we knew no one and had nothing to contribute.

On the way home we slowed to a crawl as we passed our moose pasture but the lonely bull was nowhere to be seen.

Changed into our work/play clothes we both settled back with our laptops and more Snood.  Onie had suggested a tournament of sorts and she was currently ahead.  That lead didn’t hold as one of my games surpassed her best by a few hundred points.  Thus secure in gaming superiority I forsook the keyboard and went outside to another project.

The rasp that was borrowed to work on the closet latches was very rusty.  Wanting to return it in better condition than it was received, Daddy taught me that, a wire brush was hunted up and then applied vigorously to the surface.  A few minutes later the rusty surface had been polished, a little WD-40 applied, and it was ready to return.  Richard and Mary were gone when it was returned so it was laid on their table under the awning where it would be readily seen.

Jim Johnson, our good neighbor and hunting partner, is keeping an eye on Lake Road for us while we are gone. This afternoon we visited about his wife’s, Polly’s, recovery from major surgery.  She is progressing steadily and should be fit as a fiddle before one knows it.  Certainly it will seem longer to her as she has to restrict her activities for a span of time and she is a doer, not on to lie idle, but perhaps she can use the time to catch up on her reading and visiting with friends.  Jim told us that the afternoon showers, so much a part of east Texas summers, have begun.  The cooling effect is still enjoyed by those fortunate enough to live there but they are not enjoyed quite so much as in days gone by. In those bygone days, before air conditioning, summer days could be hot and long.  Moms, not yet freed to leave their homes and children to their own devices, labored in the heat, sometimes cooled by a breeze but most often praying for a little relief from the scorching sun. Around three o’clock their prayers were usually answered in the form of a cooling shower.  Taking a break from her toils the lady of the house would repair to her porch, every house had one, and sit in her swing or rocker letting the cool breezes caress her feverish brow.  Twenty minutes later, the shower over, she returned to her work, a little refreshed and very thankful for the respite, however temporary,

As callous as it seems Jim told me life was going on as it had for centuries, children were being born, maturing, growing old and dying, passing into memory of those remaining.  None were guaranteed life, liberty or happiness but our great nation and its constitution does guarantee the right to pursue those dreams and more.  Our conversation at an end I joined Onie in her diversions, Snood and Freecell..

Pausing in the gaming I went to visit Stu and Shirley regarding a dish, tripod and co-ax so we could receive satellite signals for our television.  With the details agreed upon I took my leave and returned to Onie and the Marlin.  She was still engaged with Snood.

The river held my interest and gathering equipment for fishing I wandered there and cut the water with the thirty pound test line.  Again the reward was a fish willing to tease but not be landed.  Twice more, his cousins, taunted me but never once cooperated to the point of being landed.

With an arm growing a bit weary I made my way back to the coach where Onie had prepared a salad.  She was waiting for me to start a fire in the charcoal grill, When the cal-rod had the charcoal glowing a bright red it was removed, the lid closed and the fire left to mature.

Inside we enjoyed our salads before the steaks were placed on a fire, now ready.  Onie prepared sautéed mushrooms and onions along with a potato for each of us.  When Onie was done so were the steaks and we sat down to a meal sizzling with warmth and spice.

By nine thirty it was time to clean the kitchen while Onie went for her shower and then jot down a few lines.

On her return Onie brought the news that the outside temp had dropped to fifty six.  In addition the sun was falling behind the hill to our west and taking the last of our energy with it.

Before long we went to bed.

PITTER PATTER

June 18, 2007

Often, in writing, pitter patter is used to describe the sound of little feet running across a bare floor.  Other times it is used to describe the sound of falling rain splashing on a roof.  This morning about six it was the sound of rain falling on our roof.  It was the first rain since our arrival.  That was in contrast to last year when a day without rain was a rarity.

Between showers from heaven I took a quick walk to get a shower from a spigot.  Our friend, Jim Goodgion, has a way of saying absent that is uniquely his.  To spell it phonetically it would probably look like abbasent.  However it would look, yours truly had a case of absent mindedness as he hurried off for his morning ablutions.  He forgot his towel.  This slight oversight was not discovered until he stepped dripping wet, from the shower.  His choice was to put his robe back on without drying off or use some paper towels that are supplied for hand drying.  It can now be said, without reservation, that paper towels can serve very nicely to dry ones body.

Back at the coach by eight, the coffee and tea were set to brewing and the electric heater was turned on.  With the humidity the rain brought the fifty nine degrees inside the Marlin seemed a might cool.

The smell of fresh brewed coffee can sometimes rouse even those in the deepest of sleeps.  This morning, as the heater pushed the aroma to the bedroom Onie stirred and then came forth, for coffee.

She settled at the table with her coffee and today’s copy of the Anchorage Daily News.  While reading she announced to me that today would have total daylight of nineteen hours, twenty minutes and twenty seven seconds.  The sun rose at four nineteen and would set at eleven forty one.  That brings a whole new meaning to the phrase “working from dawn ‘til dusk”.

We wouldn’t work that long but we did have a full day ahead of us.  Accordingly she prepared eggs, pork chops and grits.  When we had gotten around this breakfast we organized our day.

A quick trip was made to Stu and Shirley’s to give him some cash.  They are going to Anchorage and are going to pick up a large dish for our Dish network system, a tripod to mount it on and some co-ax to hook it up with.  After that we should be able to pick up the stations on satellite one nineteen.  One ten is not accessible from Alaska regardless of the dish size.

First we would go to Soldotna and she would start shopping while I went to the post office to mail some letters/bills and a package and then we would go to the bank to replenish our cash.

When we returned she would do a little housework, we would strip the bed, it’s easier if we do it together, we would take the wash to the laundry in the lodge and she would do the wash, go online, hopefully, and post week three and read, time permitting.

In turn the author would take out the trash, fill the fresh water tank and empty the gray using the camp Blue Boy.

It seemed a fun day was shaping up for one and all.

Things perked along as planned with the labor devouring our breakfasts.  Of course the wash and drying took longer than anticipated but is always does.  As others in the camp ended their day, sat and enjoyed the evening breeze, we labored on.

At the end of our day all the tasks on our list had been completed and we had clean linens on the bed, clean kitchen towels and clean bath towels.

Now it was time for supper but first we snacked on some Gen-Soy chips and black bean dip.  Supper followed with warm ups. Warmed up steak and warmed up pork roast, warmed up greens and cornbread and warmed up mushrooms and onions.  It had been preceded with a tomato and avocado.  All in all it was a quite delicious meal that didn’t require a lot of effort.  That was saved for the fish grate.

Another half hour was spent testing the waters and learning the bottom before tiring arms and cooling breezes sent us home.

A decision had to be made, play dominoes or Snood.  We played Snood ‘til bedtime.

June 19, 2007

The sun’s work will never be done until the end of earthly time.  Until then it will rise every day and traverse the heavens painting its way across the ether as it goes from horizon to horizon, never sleeping.  This morning it had taken from its palette and thrown on the canvas of the overhead sky, reds, gold, pink and a bit of lavender.  To the north lingered a rag of a dark cloud, hovering on the horizon as if to menace the day.  Its struggle was a losing one as each passing minute saw its retreat.

This was the scene that greeted me as I stepped from the coach and started the short walk to the lodge and shower.  A glance over my shoulder displayed the early morning shadows of spruce trees lying, still, across the river.  With such a display of color and beauty no notice was taken of the forty three degrees.  With the sun blazing forth, as he was, it would not be long before the coolness would turn to warmth, perhaps heat.

Cleaned of the previous day’s dust I returned to the Marlin where Onie still slept.  Half an hour had passed and already old Sol had already added ten degrees to aid our comfort.  It was further enhanced with the brewing of the coffee and tea.  While those events were progressing a few notes were laid down to aid my memory at some future date when the journal will be completed.

When Onie has her first cup of coffee breakfast shan’t be far behind and so it was.  While she sipped, the pancakes were mixed up, the bacon placed in the microwave/convection oven, the ham ready for heating, the table set, butter, figs, syrup and honey pear preserves set on the table.  The honey pear preserves had appeared, on our outside table, yesterday afternoon while we were away from the Marlin.  Onie guessed it was Barb who had been the donor and her suspicion was correct.  She had gone to Barb’s rig on a hunch to thank her and Barb ‘fessed up.  When these details were accomplished and while Onie was on her second cup of coffee the whole wheat pancakes started going on the grill.  In just a few minutes we were enjoying the steaming griddle cakes, sizzling meat and hot tea/coffee.  It seems to the writer that we eat like royalty at every meal.

With breakfast tucked neatly under our belts, we had scarcely dribbled a drop, last night’s dirty dishes and those from this morning were once more made clean.

In the warming day I stepped out to do a bit of tidying up around the site while Onie made her way to the lodge and her morning toilette.

Morning details complete we sat down to our computer games but shortly yours truly took a break to do a little Agency work and open some mail.  In addition some writing took place.

Another good neighbor of ours, Jim Corbin, a Continental pilot, had a pear tree that lost a limb just before we left Coldspring.  The other Jim, Jim Johnson, had helped him in its removal and then with cutting it up.  In the process he set aside some to bring to us for use in smoking salmon.  We in turn brought it to Alaska.  Today it was reduced to finger length chunks.  Another day it will be relieved of its bark, split length ways and then split again.  All of this is to prepare it to fit in the tray in to bottom of the smoker and once there to emit a good volume of smoke.  This will be our first experience using pear wood to smoke with and we shall see how it turns out.   Last year we used apple wood, provided by Sonny, in a smoker borrowed from Ted Gotto, a friend from Maine, and we were very pleased with the results.  This year we will be using our own smoker, provided by Mrs. Santa, and apple wood provided by Ted.  Stand by for reports on taste tests to follow in the near future.

Even the most simple invention can cause complications and frustration to one’s life.  If you are a man just think of trying to use a lever, a pry bar, a very simple invention and tool, to separate two pieces of lumber that have been nailed together for many years.  Very often the two pieces do separate right away, leaving each other like mismatched partners but on occasion they cling together like lovers of fifty or sixty years, refusing to be separated no matter how hard one tries or from quarter the attack may come.  And ladies, think of the inclined plane, a ramp.  Take the ramp and make a circle of metal with it and you have a lid with a screw top.  Now, how many times have you struggled with a recalcitrant lid, frustrated and aggravated that something so simple should or could be so hard to operate.  These tools are ancient, used by the Egyptians in the construction of the pyramids but still measuring out their doses of frustration even today.

Fast forward to modern day times and a little thing called a computer.  It is just another tool but one imbued with the ability to be much more frustrating than a lever or inclined plane.  Frustrating it had been for several days as she tried to get on the worldwide web and post, to our website, our latest ramblings.  She spends a lot of time preparing the material at the end of each week and once it is complete she likes to get it posted.  Once the files are ready and she is online the process takes a maximum of five minutes.  Of course once it is posted she checks to be sure everything, index, stories and pictures are there.

This afternoon Onie was trying to rid herself of the latest aggravation with her laptop but it was not to be.  No matter how she tried the machine would not connect to the hot spot.  At last she abandoned it as wasted effort and went back to old technology, my laptop.  It is old only in the world of computers, being some four or five years old, a mere seedling in terms of redwood trees and almost a toddler in human terms but in the world of computers it may well be reaching the end of the line.  Even so it still creaks along and today, using a memory stick, she transferred all her web site work to it, took it to the laundry room, the best signal seems to be close to a dryer, and hit the send button.  Send it did and the third week was loaded.

Back at the coach I was hammering away at week four.

On her way back from the laundry room she stopped to join Sonny, Birdie, Frank, Mary and me as we sat  in the shade of Sonny’s coach.  The work day was drawing to a close and we sat visiting, waiting for Richard’s return.  Early this morning he had journeyed off to Homer in pursuit of halibut.  He had found some and was on the way back with fillets as proof of his success.  We each speculated as to the day he had.   Towards six he showed up looking tired and sun burned.  The fillets from his catch were in a cooler in the back of his truck.  After unloading them he joined us for a short spell but the gathering broke up soon after his arrival.  It was supper time.

More heat ups fed us.

It had been a long day but there was still fishing to be done so a rod and reel and the bonker was grabbed and a beeline made for the river.  After half an hour of teasing the fish, never once did I let one grab the hook, I returned to the coach where Onie was getting ready for bed. 

In her nightie she lay in bed reading the last few pages of her book while I recounted the days of our lives, on the laptop.

A little Snood, a little Freecell, a little Solitaire, a little Spider and a little later I was a little more tired but sufficiently so to join Onie in bed.