March 9, 2007 ~ Suquamish ~ There is a feeling of spring in the air........at last. It poured rain yesterday and today there has been no sun. Is it the angle of the light? Or perhaps the returning song of the robins? A couple of pileated woodpeckers have stopped by to nibble at the suet right outside of our dining room window.
We actually had two days of sun earlier in the week and got out in the yard and finished pruning. We sat in the yard on Monday in the sun and listened to a class from the program with Bob Doyle that we signed up for. We learned of Bob through The Secret. We are loving the program. If you want to learn more, contact us.
So much has been going on with us. We remind ourselves daily to remember that it is about the journey and not the destination. It's also about remaining in the NOW......otherwise you miss the whole process. So much has happened since we watched The Secret.....5 times now and counting and then the Oprah shows about The Secret. It feels quite amazing at times.
It was a long process to arrive at this place. We kept trying to make our move to Washington work but it continues to feel like an uphill climb. After 2 years we finally stopped long enough to think about other possibilities.
It has been a good thing that the winter has been long, wet and dark and kept us housebound. We needed that time with ourselves. One can be too busy to hear the messages from the heart. A person needs to be quiet and still and check in with themselves at a deep level once in a while.
We needed time to BE in the moment. Of course, we didn't realize that. It just happened that way. It feels like synchronicity......the way everything came together. Again, it is only in looking back that we can see the process. We needed time to journal and contemplate. Since I began my training toward becoming a coach, I am learning that people avoid looking deeper. They are afraid of the truth.....they are afraid to look back and afraid to look forward. They are afraid of the questions that may come up and the changes truth can bring. We humans don't do change well. We are too attached to an imaginary outcome. We don't like to walk the "tightropes" of life or "free fall off of moutains" or set off on journeys to the unknown. We grow comfortably uncomfortable in the ruts of our lives.
Charlotte
Friday, March 09, 2007
Tuesday, October 31, 2006
Happy Halloween
It is a cold day in Suquamish. The thermometer says 42 but with the wind it feels much colder. We walked down to the post office and the gale coming off of the water was icy. The world is awash in color. The maple trees glow in the sunlight. With each gust of wind a blizzard of leaves falls to earth. The kiddos will need to bundle up tonight to stay warm.
Charlotte
Charlotte
Tuesday, August 22, 2006
Tribal Journey 2006
Photograph by Larry BaconTribal Journey 2006
A days rest in Suquamish on the way to Muckleshoot. "The Tribal Canoe Journey seeks to honor centuries-old traditions of transport and trade by the coastal tribes of the Northwest, many of which often traveled the waters to meet and gather for festivities. With every dip into the water their strokes bring back the memory of their ancestors. At every landing, custom teaches them the ways of their elders as they ask permission to come ashore." To learn more go here http://www.kingcountyjournal.com/apps/pbcs.dll/article?AID=/20060801/NEWS/608010321
Pow Wow in Suquamish
Photograph by Larry Bacon
Chief Seattle Days
from Kitsap Peninsula Visitor's Bureau
"This historical celebration, held the third week of August every year, features Traditional Native Dance Performances & Competitions, Indian Salmon Dinners, Traditional Canoe Races, Indian Arts & Crafts Vendors, and a Gravesite Ceremony in honor of Chief Seattle. Tribes from throughout the Northwest and beyond are represented. EVERYONE, Native
and Non-Native, is welcome to join in the celebration. "
"The first Chief Seattle Days was held in 1911 in downtown Suquamish and continues to be held on the orginal Celebration Grounds overlooking
Port Madison, Agate Passage and the City of Seattle, the namesake of Chief Seattle. The celebration honors Chief Seattle, the famous Suquamish chief who signed the Treaty of Point Elliott in 1855 that established the Port Madison Indian Reservation and delivered the famous speech used to support the cultural and spiritual values of indigenous people throughout
the world."
"Suquamish is on the Port Madison Indian Reservation, home of the Suquamish tribe. One of the most influential leaders of the Northwest, Chief Seattle, lived much of his life in Suquamish and is buried at Suquamish Memorial Cemetery.
Located along Agate Pass and on Madison Bay, Suquamish enjoys some of Kitsap Peninsula's most spectacular views, looking across Puget Sound at Seattle, the Cascade Mountains and Mt. Rainier. "
Chief Seattle Days
from Kitsap Peninsula Visitor's Bureau
"This historical celebration, held the third week of August every year, features Traditional Native Dance Performances & Competitions, Indian Salmon Dinners, Traditional Canoe Races, Indian Arts & Crafts Vendors, and a Gravesite Ceremony in honor of Chief Seattle. Tribes from throughout the Northwest and beyond are represented. EVERYONE, Native
and Non-Native, is welcome to join in the celebration. "
"The first Chief Seattle Days was held in 1911 in downtown Suquamish and continues to be held on the orginal Celebration Grounds overlooking
Port Madison, Agate Passage and the City of Seattle, the namesake of Chief Seattle. The celebration honors Chief Seattle, the famous Suquamish chief who signed the Treaty of Point Elliott in 1855 that established the Port Madison Indian Reservation and delivered the famous speech used to support the cultural and spiritual values of indigenous people throughout
the world."
"Suquamish is on the Port Madison Indian Reservation, home of the Suquamish tribe. One of the most influential leaders of the Northwest, Chief Seattle, lived much of his life in Suquamish and is buried at Suquamish Memorial Cemetery.
Located along Agate Pass and on Madison Bay, Suquamish enjoys some of Kitsap Peninsula's most spectacular views, looking across Puget Sound at Seattle, the Cascade Mountains and Mt. Rainier. "
Sunday, July 16, 2006
Summer In Suquamish
It is a lovely summer day in Suquamish. Just a few short months ago we wondered where we would be this summer of 2006 and then Karen came into our lives. Karen had an ad on housecarers. We responded and it was a real match for all of us. Karen is a lovely young woman. She is a merchant marine captain and she needed a housesitter for the summer. We are in a lovely spot surrounded by trees and just a 1/2 mile walk to the water where we look across to the skyline of Seattle. We are blessed indeed.
Charlotte
Charlotte
Monday, April 24, 2006
Where to go?
Thinking much today about what the next few weeks will hold. We are planning to move once again. It is a lovely warm day on the Hood Canal. We have been sitting by the water watching the ducks fly about. The seagulls seem to be content to just sit around by the inlet to the river. Larry says he isn't worried about "where" because he knows no matter where we are we will be together. We are looking for another housesit, hopefully in the northwest somewhere.
Charlotte
Charlotte
Thursday, February 09, 2006
Mousetrap
What can we learn from a mousetrap?
A mouse looked through the crack in the wall to see the farmer and his wife open a package. "What food might this contain?" The mouse wondered - he was devastated to discover it was a mousetrap.
Retreating to the farmyard, the mouse proclaimed the warning. "There is a mousetrap in the house! There is a mousetrap in the house!"
The chicken clucked and scratched, raised her head and said, "Mr. Mouse, I can tell this is a grave concern to you, but it is of no consequence to me. I cannot be bothered by it."
The mouse turned to the pig and told him, "There is a mousetrap in the house! There is a mousetrap in the house!" The pig sympathized, but said, "I am so very sorry, Mr. Mouse, but there is nothing I can do about it but pray. Be assured you are in my prayers."
The mouse turned to the cow and said "There is a mousetrap in the house! There is a mousetrap in the house!" The cow said, "Wow, Mr. Mouse. I'm sorry for you, but it's no skin off my nose." So, the mouse returned to the house, head down and dejected, to face the farmer's mousetrap alone.
That very night a sound was heard throughout the house -- like the sound of a mousetrap catching its prey. The farmer's wife rushed to see what was caught. In the darkness, she did not see it was a venomous snake whose tail the trap had caught. The snake bit the farmer's wife. The farmer rushed her to the hospital, and she returned home with a fever.
Everyone knows you treat a fever with fresh chicken soup, so the farmer took his hatchet to the farmyard for the soup's main ingredient. But his wife's sickness continued, so friends and neighbors came to sit with her around the clock. To feed them, the farmer butchered the pig.
The farmer's wife did not get well; she died. So many people came for her funeral, the farmer had the cow slaughtered to provide enough meat for all of them. The mouse looked upon it all from his crack in the wall with great sadness. So, the next time you hear someone is facing a problem and think it doesn't concern you, remember -- when one of us is threatened, we are all at risk. We are all involved in this journey called life. We must keep an eye out for one another and make an extra effort to encourage one another.
SEND THIS TO EVERYONE WHO HAS EVER HELPED YOU OUT AND LET THEM KNOW HOW IMPORTANT THEY ARE. REMEMBER: EACH OF US IS A VITAL THREAD IN ANOTHER PERSON'S TAPESTRY; OUR LIVES ARE WOVEN TOGETHER FOR A REASON.
A mouse looked through the crack in the wall to see the farmer and his wife open a package. "What food might this contain?" The mouse wondered - he was devastated to discover it was a mousetrap.
Retreating to the farmyard, the mouse proclaimed the warning. "There is a mousetrap in the house! There is a mousetrap in the house!"
The chicken clucked and scratched, raised her head and said, "Mr. Mouse, I can tell this is a grave concern to you, but it is of no consequence to me. I cannot be bothered by it."
The mouse turned to the pig and told him, "There is a mousetrap in the house! There is a mousetrap in the house!" The pig sympathized, but said, "I am so very sorry, Mr. Mouse, but there is nothing I can do about it but pray. Be assured you are in my prayers."
The mouse turned to the cow and said "There is a mousetrap in the house! There is a mousetrap in the house!" The cow said, "Wow, Mr. Mouse. I'm sorry for you, but it's no skin off my nose." So, the mouse returned to the house, head down and dejected, to face the farmer's mousetrap alone.
That very night a sound was heard throughout the house -- like the sound of a mousetrap catching its prey. The farmer's wife rushed to see what was caught. In the darkness, she did not see it was a venomous snake whose tail the trap had caught. The snake bit the farmer's wife. The farmer rushed her to the hospital, and she returned home with a fever.
Everyone knows you treat a fever with fresh chicken soup, so the farmer took his hatchet to the farmyard for the soup's main ingredient. But his wife's sickness continued, so friends and neighbors came to sit with her around the clock. To feed them, the farmer butchered the pig.
The farmer's wife did not get well; she died. So many people came for her funeral, the farmer had the cow slaughtered to provide enough meat for all of them. The mouse looked upon it all from his crack in the wall with great sadness. So, the next time you hear someone is facing a problem and think it doesn't concern you, remember -- when one of us is threatened, we are all at risk. We are all involved in this journey called life. We must keep an eye out for one another and make an extra effort to encourage one another.
SEND THIS TO EVERYONE WHO HAS EVER HELPED YOU OUT AND LET THEM KNOW HOW IMPORTANT THEY ARE. REMEMBER: EACH OF US IS A VITAL THREAD IN ANOTHER PERSON'S TAPESTRY; OUR LIVES ARE WOVEN TOGETHER FOR A REASON.
Saturday, January 21, 2006
A Foggy Morning In Belfair
Larry: Our home has found us at last. We have rented a small condo on the Hood Canal in Belfair, WA. A succession of synchronous events led us to this place. Our front yard is literally the "toe end" of the Hood Canal, a long, odd arm of the Puget Sound. Our upstairs office widow overlooks a tidal pond that is always bustling with the activities of ducks. I've spotted at least three species so far. Then there are the shore birds - sea gulls and I think Sanderlings. The Sanderlings are funny little birds. They fly in tight formations that form a cloud of alternating white or tan, depending upon which way they turn. How they communicate their decision to turn at exactly the same instant is a mystery. We have a pair of resident bald eagles that we see daily.
Charlotte: This morning the fog is rolling in. I have already seen one of our bald eagles this morning. He likes to sit on the top of an old snag that has washed ashore. There are flocks of robins that have moved in this morning. They are sitting in the tree outside our office window. There are so many Larry said they look like fruit hanging in the tree. We have had many days of rain. The clouds, water, light.....the mood of this place is ever changing. The little salt water inlet to the east is a flurry of activity this morning and ducks of every description scurry here and there. A little songbird stopped by this morning to sit on our back fence and serrenade us. This has happened several times now so I can't help but think that it sees us by the window and comes by intentionally.
Charlotte: This morning the fog is rolling in. I have already seen one of our bald eagles this morning. He likes to sit on the top of an old snag that has washed ashore. There are flocks of robins that have moved in this morning. They are sitting in the tree outside our office window. There are so many Larry said they look like fruit hanging in the tree. We have had many days of rain. The clouds, water, light.....the mood of this place is ever changing. The little salt water inlet to the east is a flurry of activity this morning and ducks of every description scurry here and there. A little songbird stopped by this morning to sit on our back fence and serrenade us. This has happened several times now so I can't help but think that it sees us by the window and comes by intentionally.
Thursday, July 28, 2005
Missing In Action
By Charlotte
Wow! Here it is July 28th, 2005. Where does time go? We have been missing in action since the first of the year. We didn't feel like there was anything going on in our lives worth writing about. Hmmmmm? Is that really the truth? In retrospect there was alot going on. These may have actually been some of the most important months of our lives. The truth is that we were afraid to write about our searching and struggles where others could see. Maybe we didn't want to see. We have been on a journey of discovery. Where are we going? And why? "Why" has become the question of the day. It is like peeling away the skin of an onion. Just keep asking the question "why" and tell the truth.......not the truth that sounds good but the real down and dirty, get out of your head and into your heart truth. The "whys?" lead to the first response and then once examined, it is cast away and the search goes on. What is the real motive behind the action...... the real reason for the choices we make.
The other big question is "Why Are We Here"? Day by day we keep writing down the answers and getting closer and closer to the truth. We are living a life dedicated to a deepening of the spiritual journey. The choices we make ultimately serve that purpose.
Today finds us in Ballard, Washington which is really the northern area of Seattle. Our actual mailing address says Seattle, Washington. We are loving our time in the city. The last 4 weeks have been an unexpectedly delightful and rewarding experience.
Much has happened in the last few months to write about but...... maybe the timing wasn't right. We started off the year in Port Townsend, WA and then moved over to Indianola, which is on the Kitsap Peninsula. At waters edge we looked across at Seattle. For three months we lived in a small house in the woods. Our most important discovery there was that we don't want to live in the woods. It is fine for camping and long hikes but we want to live where we have distant vistas and big sky. That is what feeds our spirit.
We left there and headed east. I made a pilgrimage back to Texas to see relatives and revisit my childhood memories. The difference on this trip is that I chose to leave the rose colored glasses at home.
Today, here we are in Ballard. When we go to the water's edge on the west side of town we now find ourselves looking across at the Indianola pier. This is a quiet neighborhood of old homes and beautiful gardens. We are very thankful to be in Seattle this summer. They have been having a heatwave in Sacramento, where we spent last summer. We definately don't miss the long hot days of summer. We are house/pet sitting for Carolyn and her young son Scotland. They are in Europe for the summer. They were at the Tour de France when Lance won last week. This is a lovely old home, complete with Snitch, the golden retriever. Snitch is 2 years old and has more energy than we do. There is a lovely lake nearby, where we walk. Greenlake has a 2.8 mile path around the lake and lots of trees and shady lawn areas. We go there several days a week.
We have found another awesome spiritual community at the Seattle Unity Church with Richard Levy. We're taking a class based on Julia Cameron's book, "Vein of Gold". Given our "Golden" history, it's quite ironic. The class is requiring us to dig into our life for the "nuggets" that we all have hidden away - another big stretch for us.
Wow! Here it is July 28th, 2005. Where does time go? We have been missing in action since the first of the year. We didn't feel like there was anything going on in our lives worth writing about. Hmmmmm? Is that really the truth? In retrospect there was alot going on. These may have actually been some of the most important months of our lives. The truth is that we were afraid to write about our searching and struggles where others could see. Maybe we didn't want to see. We have been on a journey of discovery. Where are we going? And why? "Why" has become the question of the day. It is like peeling away the skin of an onion. Just keep asking the question "why" and tell the truth.......not the truth that sounds good but the real down and dirty, get out of your head and into your heart truth. The "whys?" lead to the first response and then once examined, it is cast away and the search goes on. What is the real motive behind the action...... the real reason for the choices we make.
The other big question is "Why Are We Here"? Day by day we keep writing down the answers and getting closer and closer to the truth. We are living a life dedicated to a deepening of the spiritual journey. The choices we make ultimately serve that purpose.
Today finds us in Ballard, Washington which is really the northern area of Seattle. Our actual mailing address says Seattle, Washington. We are loving our time in the city. The last 4 weeks have been an unexpectedly delightful and rewarding experience.
Much has happened in the last few months to write about but...... maybe the timing wasn't right. We started off the year in Port Townsend, WA and then moved over to Indianola, which is on the Kitsap Peninsula. At waters edge we looked across at Seattle. For three months we lived in a small house in the woods. Our most important discovery there was that we don't want to live in the woods. It is fine for camping and long hikes but we want to live where we have distant vistas and big sky. That is what feeds our spirit.
We left there and headed east. I made a pilgrimage back to Texas to see relatives and revisit my childhood memories. The difference on this trip is that I chose to leave the rose colored glasses at home.
Today, here we are in Ballard. When we go to the water's edge on the west side of town we now find ourselves looking across at the Indianola pier. This is a quiet neighborhood of old homes and beautiful gardens. We are very thankful to be in Seattle this summer. They have been having a heatwave in Sacramento, where we spent last summer. We definately don't miss the long hot days of summer. We are house/pet sitting for Carolyn and her young son Scotland. They are in Europe for the summer. They were at the Tour de France when Lance won last week. This is a lovely old home, complete with Snitch, the golden retriever. Snitch is 2 years old and has more energy than we do. There is a lovely lake nearby, where we walk. Greenlake has a 2.8 mile path around the lake and lots of trees and shady lawn areas. We go there several days a week.
We have found another awesome spiritual community at the Seattle Unity Church with Richard Levy. We're taking a class based on Julia Cameron's book, "Vein of Gold". Given our "Golden" history, it's quite ironic. The class is requiring us to dig into our life for the "nuggets" that we all have hidden away - another big stretch for us.
Tuesday, January 11, 2005
Bremerton Memories
January 11, 2005
By Larry
We drove over to Poulsbo yesterday for lunch at a neat little Italian bistro overlooking the waters of Liberty Bay. This morning, while writing in my journal, I realized how close we were to Bremerton. In order to make some sense of this, I must bring you up to date. I joined the Navy in 1958 and was subsequently assigned to the USS Bon Homme Richard, an Essex class aircraft carrier. In the winter of 1959, our ship was drydocked in Bremerton, Washington for three or four months. During my free time, I explored the area, often taking the ferry across to Seattle. Now here, 45 years later, I'm exploring the area just north of Bremerton. The question arose - what forces, decisions, whims, nudges, etc. place us where we are at any given time?
I really enjoyed my Navy experience. In retrospect, I might have stayed in, making a career out of it except for the fact that I was married with two children by the time my first enlistment was up. I felt the family obligation of settling down and so it was. What process directs our lives like that or is it simply organized chaos that tosses us to and fro? In the fall of 1959, my buddies and I somehow wound up in an out-of-the-way, rundown honkytonk where I met my first wife. I don't know what the circumstances were that brought her and her girlfriend there that particular night. And what was there about a wet-behind-the-ears sailor, all of 19 years old and a single mother, already divorced and jaded by life that compelled us to make a life together? Was that marriage meant to only last until I met Charlotte or was Charlotte sent to pick me up when I fell? Meeting her has it's own set of circumstances that seem implausible.
How does all of this work in my life today? Is the end result already written somewhere? If so, what part do I get to play - the protagonist or the victim? We chose to come north this winter. The Merrils' housesit and now this one in Indianola came in handy but I think we were headed here anyway. Why? Are we supposed to meet certain people up here? Is each day up for grabs or are we on a set path? Is there a way to test this process? What if I purposely jumped outside the box on any given day? Suddenly veer off the freeway to check if anyone is following me? To simply see what will happen as a result? This whole idea of feeling out the complexities of this process, of becoming aware of the subtle nudges, whims, inspirations that life sends my way intrigues me. What about actually utilizing this process to fit my intentions. Is that how it all works? Simply set clear intentions for your life, for your years, for your weeks, for today and then joyfully - playfully tap into the Universal Potential that is our's for the asking in order to make those intentions a reality.
I may be onto something here! In order for God to help us, we must make our intentions crystal clear. How can we get "there" if we don't have a clear idea of where we are going? Okay, here are my intentions, God: I want to be of service to the world, to people who are less fortunate than I am. I realize that my life will not count for anything without reaching out to help others. My clear intention is to earn enough money to fund a "comfortable" lifestyle. I don't need a fancy, "display" home - just something large enough to accomodate two of us and our guests. I want to grow things - veggies and flowers. I see a green house up here, about 10 X 20 feet should do nicely. That would grow most of our fresh food needs year round. I intend to have a boat large enough to sleep four people. I would share my boat generously. I intend for our Mannatech business to fund my other intentions so I'd better make this intention clearest of all.
If the "hows" are none of my business, then all I have to do is be clear about the "whys". I see our lifestyle as being one of cycles. A period of service, perhaps in a foreign land or here at home. A period of restorative rest and recuperation would follow. We will have our home and our boat between service assignments where we can garden, fish, cruise and catch up with our writing and reading. Good food, good wine, wonderful get-togethers with good friends, a few weeks up in the inland fiords of BC and we'll be raring to go again!
By Larry
We drove over to Poulsbo yesterday for lunch at a neat little Italian bistro overlooking the waters of Liberty Bay. This morning, while writing in my journal, I realized how close we were to Bremerton. In order to make some sense of this, I must bring you up to date. I joined the Navy in 1958 and was subsequently assigned to the USS Bon Homme Richard, an Essex class aircraft carrier. In the winter of 1959, our ship was drydocked in Bremerton, Washington for three or four months. During my free time, I explored the area, often taking the ferry across to Seattle. Now here, 45 years later, I'm exploring the area just north of Bremerton. The question arose - what forces, decisions, whims, nudges, etc. place us where we are at any given time?
I really enjoyed my Navy experience. In retrospect, I might have stayed in, making a career out of it except for the fact that I was married with two children by the time my first enlistment was up. I felt the family obligation of settling down and so it was. What process directs our lives like that or is it simply organized chaos that tosses us to and fro? In the fall of 1959, my buddies and I somehow wound up in an out-of-the-way, rundown honkytonk where I met my first wife. I don't know what the circumstances were that brought her and her girlfriend there that particular night. And what was there about a wet-behind-the-ears sailor, all of 19 years old and a single mother, already divorced and jaded by life that compelled us to make a life together? Was that marriage meant to only last until I met Charlotte or was Charlotte sent to pick me up when I fell? Meeting her has it's own set of circumstances that seem implausible.
How does all of this work in my life today? Is the end result already written somewhere? If so, what part do I get to play - the protagonist or the victim? We chose to come north this winter. The Merrils' housesit and now this one in Indianola came in handy but I think we were headed here anyway. Why? Are we supposed to meet certain people up here? Is each day up for grabs or are we on a set path? Is there a way to test this process? What if I purposely jumped outside the box on any given day? Suddenly veer off the freeway to check if anyone is following me? To simply see what will happen as a result? This whole idea of feeling out the complexities of this process, of becoming aware of the subtle nudges, whims, inspirations that life sends my way intrigues me. What about actually utilizing this process to fit my intentions. Is that how it all works? Simply set clear intentions for your life, for your years, for your weeks, for today and then joyfully - playfully tap into the Universal Potential that is our's for the asking in order to make those intentions a reality.
I may be onto something here! In order for God to help us, we must make our intentions crystal clear. How can we get "there" if we don't have a clear idea of where we are going? Okay, here are my intentions, God: I want to be of service to the world, to people who are less fortunate than I am. I realize that my life will not count for anything without reaching out to help others. My clear intention is to earn enough money to fund a "comfortable" lifestyle. I don't need a fancy, "display" home - just something large enough to accomodate two of us and our guests. I want to grow things - veggies and flowers. I see a green house up here, about 10 X 20 feet should do nicely. That would grow most of our fresh food needs year round. I intend to have a boat large enough to sleep four people. I would share my boat generously. I intend for our Mannatech business to fund my other intentions so I'd better make this intention clearest of all.
If the "hows" are none of my business, then all I have to do is be clear about the "whys". I see our lifestyle as being one of cycles. A period of service, perhaps in a foreign land or here at home. A period of restorative rest and recuperation would follow. We will have our home and our boat between service assignments where we can garden, fish, cruise and catch up with our writing and reading. Good food, good wine, wonderful get-togethers with good friends, a few weeks up in the inland fiords of BC and we'll be raring to go again!
Tuesday, December 21, 2004
Searching for Gibsons
December 21, 2004
In January, 2003, we moved to British Columbia with the idea that we could live there permanently. We had visited the little town of Gibsons on the Sunshine Coast several times on holiday and had fallen in love with it. The first time was in the fall of 1996. We had committed to an Alaskan cruise that departed Vancouver, BC on the Sunday of Labor Day weekend. We left Seattle with the plan to find a place to stay Saturday night in Vancouver but guess what? - There was no room at the inn! We couldn't find a vacancy anywhere. We happened to belong to Days Inn club so we called their help line. The nice young man in Tennessee told us there were vacancies in Gibsons, just a short drive north of Vancouver. We happily made reservations and headed out of town. The four lane freeway abruptly ended at the water. Thinking that we had missed the turn off, we retraced our path only to return to the water! After calling our Tennessee friend back, he rechecked and announced that there was a ferry crossing necessary to get there. After a magical late afternoon crossing, we drove into lower Gibsons and found our motel. Gibsons is a fishing village that time forgot. People walk the streets for entertainment, going down to the pier to watch boating traffic, looking at the towering, snow-covered mountains, spying the ferry on its hourly crossing. We were enchanted. Since we were very nervous about our cruise having never been on one before, we wished that we could have canceled it and spent the week in Gibsons. It was a good thing we didn't because our Alaskan cruise was magical - but that's another story.
Our home in Gibsons overlooked the harbor and we awakened each morning with eagerness. We went exploring by car and by foot. Almost every evening, we walked down to the harbor after dinner to look at the boats and daydream about where they had been or were going. We made friends at the coffee shops and spent hours conversing with them over a pastry and a cup. The accents were captivating, the customs just different enough to be interesting and the exchange rate fluctuated daily. We were in love with a new country, a new home, a new beginning.
Then in May or so, we met some ex-pat Americans who informed us that we could only stay for six months out of each calendar year. We resisted at first, determined to become illegal aliens, hiding from the vaunted Royal Canadian Mounties of lore. But eventually, sanity prevailed and we planned our departure, saddened but fulfilled by our time there. The only problem since then is that we tend to measure each place we visit by Gibsons standards and all fall woefully short. Just this morning, we realized that as much as we like the Port Townsend, Washington area, it's just not our Gibsons. Will we ever find a replacement?
In January, 2003, we moved to British Columbia with the idea that we could live there permanently. We had visited the little town of Gibsons on the Sunshine Coast several times on holiday and had fallen in love with it. The first time was in the fall of 1996. We had committed to an Alaskan cruise that departed Vancouver, BC on the Sunday of Labor Day weekend. We left Seattle with the plan to find a place to stay Saturday night in Vancouver but guess what? - There was no room at the inn! We couldn't find a vacancy anywhere. We happened to belong to Days Inn club so we called their help line. The nice young man in Tennessee told us there were vacancies in Gibsons, just a short drive north of Vancouver. We happily made reservations and headed out of town. The four lane freeway abruptly ended at the water. Thinking that we had missed the turn off, we retraced our path only to return to the water! After calling our Tennessee friend back, he rechecked and announced that there was a ferry crossing necessary to get there. After a magical late afternoon crossing, we drove into lower Gibsons and found our motel. Gibsons is a fishing village that time forgot. People walk the streets for entertainment, going down to the pier to watch boating traffic, looking at the towering, snow-covered mountains, spying the ferry on its hourly crossing. We were enchanted. Since we were very nervous about our cruise having never been on one before, we wished that we could have canceled it and spent the week in Gibsons. It was a good thing we didn't because our Alaskan cruise was magical - but that's another story.
Our home in Gibsons overlooked the harbor and we awakened each morning with eagerness. We went exploring by car and by foot. Almost every evening, we walked down to the harbor after dinner to look at the boats and daydream about where they had been or were going. We made friends at the coffee shops and spent hours conversing with them over a pastry and a cup. The accents were captivating, the customs just different enough to be interesting and the exchange rate fluctuated daily. We were in love with a new country, a new home, a new beginning.
Then in May or so, we met some ex-pat Americans who informed us that we could only stay for six months out of each calendar year. We resisted at first, determined to become illegal aliens, hiding from the vaunted Royal Canadian Mounties of lore. But eventually, sanity prevailed and we planned our departure, saddened but fulfilled by our time there. The only problem since then is that we tend to measure each place we visit by Gibsons standards and all fall woefully short. Just this morning, we realized that as much as we like the Port Townsend, Washington area, it's just not our Gibsons. Will we ever find a replacement?
Tuesday, November 30, 2004
Northwest Report
Almost two weeks in Port Townsend, Washington! My, how time has flown. What a glorious place this is with it's snow covered peaks, waterways and forests. We can see the Olympic range draped in it's winter coat of white from our chairs in the front room. On clear days we can see Mt. Baker, Mt. Rainer and the Cascades. This feels like home to us. We feel good in this environment.
We will be house/pet sitting here into the New Year. Our charges are one very large black dog (lab mix) - Markus and 2 cats, Suzie and Mimi. The cats are feral. Their owner, MaryAnn, has tamed them enough to be indoors. They are locked away in a bedroom while the bathroom remodel construction goes on here. They seem content enough in their room. Suzie has her leg in a cast from an injury she suffered when she escaped into the crawl space below the house. She spends most of her time securely nestled into the corner of a carpet lined box. She goes back to the vet in two weeks and has her cast removed. I am sure she'll be glad and so will we. She can't lift her bum leg into the litter box and often misses. Jay and MaryAnn have 2 horses who are boarded out in the country. We go by there once a week for a visit and to deliver a large bag of carrots.
We are camped out here but quite comfortable. The owner's have not moved their household furnishings up from California yet. We have a nice bed, camp chairs, a folding table, fridge, stove, washer and dryer. They recently installed a lovely gas fireplace, the nicest we have ever seen. The fire very much resembles the many campfires we have warmed ourselves by. We sit around the fire in the morning and evening.
This area requires exploring. No matter which road you take, it eventually reaches the water. The other day we were driving along the banks of the Dungeness Wildlife area near Sequim when we spied a bald eagle, high atop a scraggly pine. My photo doesn't do it justice. When I mention bald eagles to the locals, I get a "ho-hum" response. I hope I never get there since it is so exciting everytime we see one. The weather is grey with lots of sun breaks. The sky is constantly changing. Yesterday, as I was driving to the post office, the Cascade Mountains were awash in brilliant sunlight even though we were in the grey. The contrast was surrealistic but alas, when I grabbed for the camera, I realized that I had left it at home.
We have tried two Unity churches now, one here in Port Townsend and one in Kingston. Our plan is to go over to Sequim next Sunday, then make a decision about which one feeds our spirits best. Until the next time.
Charlotte
We will be house/pet sitting here into the New Year. Our charges are one very large black dog (lab mix) - Markus and 2 cats, Suzie and Mimi. The cats are feral. Their owner, MaryAnn, has tamed them enough to be indoors. They are locked away in a bedroom while the bathroom remodel construction goes on here. They seem content enough in their room. Suzie has her leg in a cast from an injury she suffered when she escaped into the crawl space below the house. She spends most of her time securely nestled into the corner of a carpet lined box. She goes back to the vet in two weeks and has her cast removed. I am sure she'll be glad and so will we. She can't lift her bum leg into the litter box and often misses. Jay and MaryAnn have 2 horses who are boarded out in the country. We go by there once a week for a visit and to deliver a large bag of carrots.
We are camped out here but quite comfortable. The owner's have not moved their household furnishings up from California yet. We have a nice bed, camp chairs, a folding table, fridge, stove, washer and dryer. They recently installed a lovely gas fireplace, the nicest we have ever seen. The fire very much resembles the many campfires we have warmed ourselves by. We sit around the fire in the morning and evening.
This area requires exploring. No matter which road you take, it eventually reaches the water. The other day we were driving along the banks of the Dungeness Wildlife area near Sequim when we spied a bald eagle, high atop a scraggly pine. My photo doesn't do it justice. When I mention bald eagles to the locals, I get a "ho-hum" response. I hope I never get there since it is so exciting everytime we see one. The weather is grey with lots of sun breaks. The sky is constantly changing. Yesterday, as I was driving to the post office, the Cascade Mountains were awash in brilliant sunlight even though we were in the grey. The contrast was surrealistic but alas, when I grabbed for the camera, I realized that I had left it at home.
We have tried two Unity churches now, one here in Port Townsend and one in Kingston. Our plan is to go over to Sequim next Sunday, then make a decision about which one feeds our spirits best. Until the next time.
Charlotte
Saturday, November 13, 2004
Nesting and Passing Time
Charlotte: Since leaving Sacramento and moving up to the Grass Valley area we have been a little down all week. We feel lost. It occurs to us that even though we love to travel, experience new places and meet new people, perhaps we need a nest somewhere. Moving is supposedly a very stressful experience and I think we are feeling some of that this week. Without a nest, maybe this moving every few months is taking a toll on us. As we think back, it seems like we get down every time we move. We love the feeling we get when we hit the road, headed to a new place... but the week before we leave and about the first week after we arrive at our new destination we are down in the dumps. Is there a pattern here? Duh? It is especially hard this time because we have made so many friends in Sacramento. We are leaving "family" behind this time but we know that we will return for visits.
We are excited about heading back to our beloved northwest. It feels more like home that any other place we have been. We haven't been back in almost 2 years now. Maybe before we think about any more housesits we should find a place to call home. It would be fun to get all of our worldly goods out of storage. It would be like Christmas since we haven't seen any of our "stuff" in so long. We stored everything away in 1997 and hit the road. It would be nice to have a place to go back to once in awhile..... a place where we have "community" and a sense of family. We'll be at our next housesitting assignment in Pt. Townsend, Washington next week. Perhaps being there will help us in answering some of these questions.
Larry: I've been taking a break from my farm chores by sitting on the front porch watching a kingfisher hunt for his breakfast. What a simple life, eating what you catch when you're hungry. I was watching the leaves fall from a tree - talk about being present! One or two leaves would drift down, then a breeze would pluck a dozen or more so that a flurry of leaves fell. The ground beneath the tree was solid with yellow and orange color. I was struck by the metaphor of life and passing time . Our days float by like the leaves of autumn, some days faster than others, some weeks fly by without our noticing - all joining the past and accumulating around us. In order to appreciate our time here, we must stay present and watch each day as it drifts toward the past. Too quickly, our life will be represented by the stark bareness of the leafless branches.
We are excited about heading back to our beloved northwest. It feels more like home that any other place we have been. We haven't been back in almost 2 years now. Maybe before we think about any more housesits we should find a place to call home. It would be fun to get all of our worldly goods out of storage. It would be like Christmas since we haven't seen any of our "stuff" in so long. We stored everything away in 1997 and hit the road. It would be nice to have a place to go back to once in awhile..... a place where we have "community" and a sense of family. We'll be at our next housesitting assignment in Pt. Townsend, Washington next week. Perhaps being there will help us in answering some of these questions.
Larry: I've been taking a break from my farm chores by sitting on the front porch watching a kingfisher hunt for his breakfast. What a simple life, eating what you catch when you're hungry. I was watching the leaves fall from a tree - talk about being present! One or two leaves would drift down, then a breeze would pluck a dozen or more so that a flurry of leaves fell. The ground beneath the tree was solid with yellow and orange color. I was struck by the metaphor of life and passing time . Our days float by like the leaves of autumn, some days faster than others, some weeks fly by without our noticing - all joining the past and accumulating around us. In order to appreciate our time here, we must stay present and watch each day as it drifts toward the past. Too quickly, our life will be represented by the stark bareness of the leafless branches.
Friday, October 29, 2004
Golden Dream
Journal entry from 1983 ~ the gold mining years
High Sierra
Cold Water Creek
The day started out the same as most mornings. The air was brisk, even cold when I slipped out from the warmth of our down cocoon. My breath plumed in front of me as I inhaled the pungent piney air. I lit the stove to start the coffee and then stirred the coals in the fire ring. Adding a handful of chips and bark, I blew a few strong puffs and was rewarded with a slender flame that I encouraged with more wood. The fragrant smell of wood smoke filled the air. From the safety of a high limb above, a squirrel scolded me for my efforts. By the time the coffee was ready, Charlotte had joined me at the fire and we contemplated our day, warming one side at a time against the chill of the high mountain air.
After a hearty breakfast, we loaded our backpacks with our lunch and enough gasoline to run our dredge for the day. The hike down the steep trail to the river took about 15 minutes with an occasional slip or two. We had carved the trail in a series of switchbacks because of the steepness. The creek didn't look any different that day either. The towering trees formed a canopy over our heads and the clear, icy mountain stream plunged and gurgled it's way past us. We were mining for gold in the High Sierras of Northern California using a suction dredge - sort of like an underwater vacuum. The gold in this particular stretch of the river had been meager to average. The creek seemed stingy, wanting to hold onto it's treasure. Somehow though, I sensed a shift - a tingling deep in the primitive part of my brain.
Charlotte and I took turns underwater and this morning was my turn to begin the day. The water was icy cold and the first dive began before the sun hit the water so no one argued for the first shift. The water was so cold that we piped warm water from the engine down the back of our wetsuit. I began to clean the jagged bedrock with the dredge nozzle. The surface of the rock didn't prepare me for what was about to happen. I was working along a smooth fluted groove in the rock when I came to the hole. It was circular and about 3 feet across. We called them boil holes because sometime in the geological history of this stream, there had been a waterfall here which had provided the energy to create a vortex that had carved the hole out of solid rock.
The tingling became a constant vibration in my head. I slowly worked my way down through the tightly packed rocks and pebbles, my mind filled with visions of gold. About two feet down, the brilliant flash of native gold caught my eye. A perfect teardrop shaped nugget about 1 1/2 inches long materialized and I excitedly handed it up to Charlotte who was standing in the water next to me. Knowing how gold seeks the lowest level, I thought, "If this big piece is up here above the bottom, what must lie below?" Now I knew that the river was rewarding us for our perseverance. After clearing another foot or so, the hole began to slope inward, signifying that the bottom was near. As the last debris began to clear from the bottom, a golden glow began to fill my vision. There in the bottom of the hole, layers of gold nuggets gleamed with the shiny brilliance that had started wars and birthed the west. I handed the largest ones up to Charlotte. I motioned for her to cut the engine so that we could take a look in the box. Sure enough, it was lined with golden color.
Just as we were cleaning the last of the gold from the riffle box, a huge roll of thunder interrupted our excitement. A storm was right overhead. We raced up the trail barely ahead of the heavy droplets of rain. Breathlessly, we jumped into the pickup and headed for camp, exhilarated by all that the day had blessed us with.
High Sierra
Cold Water Creek
The day started out the same as most mornings. The air was brisk, even cold when I slipped out from the warmth of our down cocoon. My breath plumed in front of me as I inhaled the pungent piney air. I lit the stove to start the coffee and then stirred the coals in the fire ring. Adding a handful of chips and bark, I blew a few strong puffs and was rewarded with a slender flame that I encouraged with more wood. The fragrant smell of wood smoke filled the air. From the safety of a high limb above, a squirrel scolded me for my efforts. By the time the coffee was ready, Charlotte had joined me at the fire and we contemplated our day, warming one side at a time against the chill of the high mountain air.
After a hearty breakfast, we loaded our backpacks with our lunch and enough gasoline to run our dredge for the day. The hike down the steep trail to the river took about 15 minutes with an occasional slip or two. We had carved the trail in a series of switchbacks because of the steepness. The creek didn't look any different that day either. The towering trees formed a canopy over our heads and the clear, icy mountain stream plunged and gurgled it's way past us. We were mining for gold in the High Sierras of Northern California using a suction dredge - sort of like an underwater vacuum. The gold in this particular stretch of the river had been meager to average. The creek seemed stingy, wanting to hold onto it's treasure. Somehow though, I sensed a shift - a tingling deep in the primitive part of my brain.
Charlotte and I took turns underwater and this morning was my turn to begin the day. The water was icy cold and the first dive began before the sun hit the water so no one argued for the first shift. The water was so cold that we piped warm water from the engine down the back of our wetsuit. I began to clean the jagged bedrock with the dredge nozzle. The surface of the rock didn't prepare me for what was about to happen. I was working along a smooth fluted groove in the rock when I came to the hole. It was circular and about 3 feet across. We called them boil holes because sometime in the geological history of this stream, there had been a waterfall here which had provided the energy to create a vortex that had carved the hole out of solid rock.
The tingling became a constant vibration in my head. I slowly worked my way down through the tightly packed rocks and pebbles, my mind filled with visions of gold. About two feet down, the brilliant flash of native gold caught my eye. A perfect teardrop shaped nugget about 1 1/2 inches long materialized and I excitedly handed it up to Charlotte who was standing in the water next to me. Knowing how gold seeks the lowest level, I thought, "If this big piece is up here above the bottom, what must lie below?" Now I knew that the river was rewarding us for our perseverance. After clearing another foot or so, the hole began to slope inward, signifying that the bottom was near. As the last debris began to clear from the bottom, a golden glow began to fill my vision. There in the bottom of the hole, layers of gold nuggets gleamed with the shiny brilliance that had started wars and birthed the west. I handed the largest ones up to Charlotte. I motioned for her to cut the engine so that we could take a look in the box. Sure enough, it was lined with golden color.
Just as we were cleaning the last of the gold from the riffle box, a huge roll of thunder interrupted our excitement. A storm was right overhead. We raced up the trail barely ahead of the heavy droplets of rain. Breathlessly, we jumped into the pickup and headed for camp, exhilarated by all that the day had blessed us with.
Friday, October 22, 2004
ET, Phone Home
by Larry
Someone asked us the other day if we were tired of traveling and didn't we need a home? It got me to thinking about roots. Roots means family, community and a historic home to me. Those ingredients become problematic when you are on the road as much as we are. Charlotte and I are essentially, vagabonds. Actually, we are professional house sitters which means that we live in lots of different places for one to three months at a time. In just the last 18 months, we have lived in British Columbia, Atlanta, GA., Portland and Cottage Grove, OR., Dallas, TX., Denver, CO and most recently are living in Sacramento, CA! Talk about diversity! House and farm sitting has provided us with a way to see the country and meet lots of interesting people. If you are ever interested in looking into this as a way to thee the country or the world you can find out more at housecarers.com.
Friendships are what holds us together and provides us with "family". Richard Bach says it best, "The bond that links your true family is not one of blood, but of respect and joy in each others life." As for a home where all our friends live, Bach again nails it: "Can miles truly separate us from friends? If we want to be with someone we love, aren't we already there?" In this manner, we carry our community with us.
Each new destination offers new opportunities to meet new friends, make lasting relationships, thereby expanding our family and growing our roots ever deeper into the rich tapestry of our lives.
by Larry
Someone asked us the other day if we were tired of traveling and didn't we need a home? It got me to thinking about roots. Roots means family, community and a historic home to me. Those ingredients become problematic when you are on the road as much as we are. Charlotte and I are essentially, vagabonds. Actually, we are professional house sitters which means that we live in lots of different places for one to three months at a time. In just the last 18 months, we have lived in British Columbia, Atlanta, GA., Portland and Cottage Grove, OR., Dallas, TX., Denver, CO and most recently are living in Sacramento, CA! Talk about diversity! House and farm sitting has provided us with a way to see the country and meet lots of interesting people. If you are ever interested in looking into this as a way to thee the country or the world you can find out more at housecarers.com.
Friendships are what holds us together and provides us with "family". Richard Bach says it best, "The bond that links your true family is not one of blood, but of respect and joy in each others life." As for a home where all our friends live, Bach again nails it: "Can miles truly separate us from friends? If we want to be with someone we love, aren't we already there?" In this manner, we carry our community with us.
Each new destination offers new opportunities to meet new friends, make lasting relationships, thereby expanding our family and growing our roots ever deeper into the rich tapestry of our lives.
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