My mother’s table – Happy Thanksgiving!

I’m celebrating this Thanksgiving at my mother’s table, once again.

It’s not often, at this point in my life, that I find myself surrounded by family for the holiday. We often visit in summer, or at Christmas, but the Thanksgiving break is shorter, and makes for a harder trip.

But this year, the stars aligned, and we have a cross-section of ages and family branches, from multiple time zones and states, gathered to share the day and the feast, to tell stories and catch up on news, to snap photos and give hugs. We’ll hear about what’s new, remember what’s past, (and who’s passed), and talk.

Most of all, we’ll talk.

In my mother’s kitchen, around my mother’s table, we’ll talk. The stories will flow, and mostly they’ll be funny. Sometimes the talk turns to country and opinions, and the opinions are always strong, and strongly voiced. But no one is uninvited here, whatever is said. We’re family, and that’s that.

My mother has two tables, in side-by-side rooms. There’s a formal dining room, and we’ll have enough people in the house that both tables will be used.

But it’s the kitchen table where the magic happens.

It doesn’t matter how long it’s been, when we gather, we eat, we talk, and we laugh, often late into the night.

Like so many families across the country, we’ll do the traditional things, eat traditional foods, and mark another year.

There are some missing from our clan. Some just can’t be here, too far to travel, and too short a break. We’re missing others who’ll never sit with us again. But they’re here in spirit, and in stories, and in the recipes we use, the names we recall…”Papa,” “Mama,” “Daddy,” “Mother.”

The day will be full, and we’ll be full, stuffed with all the trimmings, and all the favorite dishes offered up to mark the meal, to say this is a special time, to remind us of tradition and occasion.

We are thankful, the lot of us. We’ve all known joys, and we’ve each known loss. We’re a cross-section of Americana, in so many ways…from careers to interests to where we live and how we talk. Some accents are southern, some less so. Mostly we’re united by common genes, common faith, and heritage of place and upbringing, though we’ve wandered far and wide from our starting points.

Thanksgiving is a day for many things…a national pause to say grace and peace, to thank and remember, to eat and celebrate. Mostly, to me, it’s about family. Purer than any other holiday for that focus, it’s a day that allows us to be together with no other motive than that…to be together. The food and the other traditions are really the extras. It was never really about what’s on the table.

What we’re really thankful for are the people, gathered around.

Happy Thanksgiving to you and yours! May your table be full of food cooked with love, and the chairs be filled with faces you love. As you look around tomorrow, may you know who you’re thankful for, and find kindred spirits to talk and laugh with.

I’ll be at my mother’s table, and I’ll be thankful to see the faces, hear the stories, and feel the love.

~ Sheila

Re-entry to the world of stuff

I wrote recently about the decision to re-settle ourselves in SE Alaska, ending a two-year roving lifestyle, working and living in temporary clinic housing when we weren’t out of the state traveling.

In the past month we ordered enough household items from Amazon to start life again…we’d sold almost everything when we sold the Ketchikan house in October, 2014, so we had some restocking to do. I have to admit, until now, I wouldn’t have associated Amazon with furniture. But it turns out you can order quite an array…everything you need, in fact. And though what we bought isn’t heirloom quality, it’s solid and looks good, and that’s sufficient for our needs at the moment. I’m not furnishing my dream home with this move.

So this is how you move to Alaska…SE Alaska, anyway. You talk with the barge lines that serve SE Alaska and sort out their timetable, and the various options for shipping. You can use an entire shipping container, 20 or 40 foot (or as many as you need), or you can ship up on pallets. If you ship on pallets, you’re charged by weight, and per hundred-weight, it works out to twice the cost of shipping an entire container. For a container, you pay a flat rate, and whatever you can put in goes for the same flat rate. So that’s the better way to ship, at least for larger volume.

It turns out we had exactly a 20-foot container’s worth of belongings. I think that’s pretty good, actually, for 35 years of marriage. We’ve thinned a lot along the way, so even after replacing furniture and adding the household items I had in storage, we still kept it to a manageable level.

At least, that’s what I thought, until the container was unloaded into the two-car garage at our new place. It was full, with boxes stacked on boxes, three or four levels deep. Suddenly, after a two-year break from possessions, it was overwhelming to look at everything at once.

I can’t deny I’ve done a happy dance or two at the thought of having my kitchen set up again, and it will be lovely to have all my clothes in one place, to see familiar and homey knickknacks again. It will be nice to actually fully unpack my roller bags, and live out of drawers and closets for a change.

But I also can’t deny…there’s a part of me that’s a little suffocated, a little weighed down just looking at all the stuff.

I’ve happily collected and kept my favorite things, and as I get older, I’m pickier about what meets that standard. What is worth holding on to, moving around, and ultimately keeping throughout my life? I think a bit more these days about how much stuff I’ve accumulated, and what I’ll leave to my kids to deal with (one day, far, far in the future!)

When you’ve had an opportunity to live stuff-free for a significant time, as we’ve done the past two years, you see it all a little differently. Yes, the convenience and the comfort of having my own things is enjoyable, and I’m excited to revel in nesting again.

But I also have a wee bit of a feeling that my wings are clipped, that I’ll be more tied down than I have been. And I didn’t expect to feel that. Didn’t expect to experience any negative side to setting up a home again.

Me, the ultimate nester, feeling overwhelmed by my twigs?!

Maybe I just need to clear a few boxes, and get cozy again. But it makes me think about how consumed Americans are with stuff, and getting more stuff, and maintaining stuff. And all this makes me determined to keep some perspective…to be a little less thing-oriented, and see it all for what it is…pleasant filler that makes my day-to-day convenient  and comfortable.

But stuff is not so important to me as it once was. And maybe that’s the lesson of the last two years: I can actually thrive without a lot of it, and as long as the really important elements of my life are in place…health, and family, and nurturing relationships…the other stuff is just that…stuff that fills my garage, and will soften my life. But it doesn’t make my life. I never thought that it did…but coming full circle through all of this brings that reality home to me.

We’re about to enter the season of giving, and getting. I’m thinking more about giving experiences, and the types of gifts that don’t accumulate to pile in the garage or basement, that don’t need sorting and caring for.

This isn’t meant to guilt anyone…we all need things…but just to say, how much is the right amount? And how can we have a healthy relationship with the stuff, instead of being overwhelmed by it?

It’s one of the ongoing conversations I have with myself…what about you? Got a handle on this? Any wisdom to share?

~ Sheila

The day before the day – Election, 2016

It’s been a long hard run for all of us weary spectators to the blood sport of American presidential politics. Are you as exhausted as I am?

I’ve posted before about this sad chapter in American history. How did we get here? I know there are enthusiastic supporters for both major party candidates, but I can’t help but feel that whoever wins, we’ve all lost.

We’ve lost our collective dignity, and I believe, a large measure of world respect. I’m embarrassed for the whole lot of us. I can’t imagine where we’ll go from here. I think it will take a long time to rebuild faith in our process, in our system. So many charges of corruption and both major candidates being unfit to serve…it’s disheartening to think this is what we’ve come to.

I know elections from other eras also had a lot of mudslinging, accusations of dishonesty and scandal. Maybe what we’re experiencing isn’t unique. But it feels that way. It feels like we’ve stooped to new lows, as a country. I want debate discussions to be about issues that affect us all, not about salacious personal details or possible criminal charges. I’m tired of the national political figures seeming more fit to be in a soap opera than the next leader of the United States.

I want to believe. Maybe that’s just naiveté I never outgrew, but I want to be able to believe in our leaders. I don’t care if the president is man, woman, black, brown, white, or whatever ethnic background…I just want this person to be honest, and to try to do what they promise. I’m not looking for perfection. I am looking for sincerity.

And as important, I want to believe our system is honest. How can any of us feel good about anyone winning the election if we can’t believe it was won honestly and fairly?

I’ve given up hope for this election. I couldn’t vote for either candidate, though I did vote down ballot. But here’s what I do hope:

  • I hope we’ll see a grass-roots movement rise up and demand that both major parties clean house, clean up any whiff of corruption or dishonesty, and improve their internal processes to allow more access, and more transparency. It is disgraceful that we have two candidates who are widely disliked and distrusted. What does that say about us as a nation, that these are the best we could field for this office?
  • I hope we can have a national conversation about the lessons learned from this cycle, and what we can do better…surely that would cover almost everything that’s happened.
  • I hope we’ll find ways to require voter id from everyone, and at the same time ensure that process leaves no one out…voter id requirements should never be used to limit voting.
  • We need to talk about the pros and cons of early voting and any voting options that reduce voting on election day. I understand the value of absentee voting, but I also think all these voting options make it more difficult to ensure voting is fair and that votes are counted accurately. Whether I’m happy about any election outcome or not, I want to believe results are accurate based on actual votes. It demeans the process and erodes faith when we can’t believe in our system, whether the charges are that one party is trying to stuff the ballot box, or the other party is trying to suppress votes. We need clean voting, and we need to make it an easy task…in this era of brilliant technology, surely we could sort this out?
  • I think we need to redesign the process as to the way some states seem to matter, and others don’t. You see this during primary season, and definitely for the national election. So many states are really just taken for granted…maybe that’s inevitable given the known voting records and demographics, but still, it feels unfair and unbalanced that half a dozen states, or maybe even a single state, can be make-or-break for the winner. Another reason to require everyone, in both primary and national elections, to vote on the same day.
  • I think we need to shorten the election cycle, by law, so we end these never-ending runs for office that begin as soon as the last vote is cast in the current cycle. Enough! Give us a break from the madness! Spend some time doing the job, not simply campaigning to keep the job at the next election.
  • We need to limit the amount of money anyone can spend on a campaign. We need to find some way to both control the money that special interest groups throw at the process, and open opportunity to candidates who are not personally wealthy or come from political pedigrees…in other words, make it possible for “average” Americans to have a shot at political offices, even the highest one. When I say “average,” I don’t mean to dismiss education or pertinent experience…those requirements should be a given…but we definitely need new ideas, new blood and innovation.
  • I’ve read pros and cons about term limits. I think our system would be healthier if politicians could not become entrenched for life, regardless of job performance. Same for judges, at all levels. I particularly think Supreme Court judges should have service limits. Elected officials should serve and move on to something else, and I’d also like to see regulation of politicians moving into lobbyist positions…I’m not sure much good will be achieved with term limits if politicians can simply move next door and continue to be part of the process in the private sector. I really think we need some way to ensure that once a politician has hit term limits, he/she is required to return to civilian life rather than stay on in the political arena of influence.

I’ve said I’m less concerned about who wins than that the winner be a person of integrity and that they, and their entourage, be people of honor. I would like to think honor still exists among those who seek high office.

I’m not one to advocate for rebellion or violence, but I’m convinced after the travesty we’ve witnessed, with all the drama, name calling, and dirty tricks, we, the American public, deserve better, and should demand change before we go through another electoral cycle.

You have to be an adult to vote. I would like to believe I have choices of responsible, honest, and honorable adults to vote for. We have serious problems, and we need serious candidates to step up. But we, the voting citizens, have an obligation here too…we need to raise our voices to demand change, demand honesty, and get involved at every level to ensure that happens.

Maybe then we could get excited about voting again.

Frames

Last summer we rented a house built beside a stream. The house wasn’t air-conditioned, and even in the temperate climate of Hawaii, it was stuffy without the windows open, and ceiling fan running. So we slept with open windows, and the sound of water running through our nights.

A funny thing, I noticed the stream didn’t bother me. I noticed it because running water at night usually does bother me. When the source of the water is a toilet that keeps filling, or a faucet that isn’t completely turned off, I hear the trickle of water and I can’t unhear it. It annoys me, keeps me awake, disturbs my rest.

What is the difference between the two? The stream was actually louder than a trickle from a toilet that keeps filling, or a leaky faucet.

I think the answer is how I framed the noise. The stream, I told myself, is soothing, natural, a white noise that’s calming and peaceful. It’s a good thing.

The leaky faucet or ever-filling toilet…nothing soothing about those sounds, and I feel like I have to get up and address the issue. To ignore it would keep me tossing and turning all night.

It’s all about the frame I put around the noise, and the story I tell myself.

Ah ha…

I wonder how else I demonstrate this principle in my life?

Some issues have to be addressed, have to be challenged, have to be sorted out.

But how many battles do I fight that don’t need fighting? What if I tried to re-frame the things that bother me, to see if re-framing changed my attitude?

It’s a question worth considering, and worth answering.

Can I see differently? Can I frame people in my life through a different lens? Can I use a filter of kindness and patience to help ratchet down frustration?

There was a time when I was impatient with life, a time when I wanted everything to be fair, and it bothered me a lot to see inequity. I saw life in a concrete way, with little tolerance or allowance for the realities of the in-between.

I thought if I complained about unfairness or things that needed improving, that would help. Instead, it mostly created conflict.

The reality is many situations are colored in shades of gray. Most relationships have their strong points and weaknesses. People are a mixture of great character and qualities, and habits that annoy, distract, and grate on nerves. Work is usually the same mixed bag…things we like, things we don’t, or maybe even things we hate.

Some elements in my life are less-than-perfect, and I’ve come to accept that. After all, I’m not perfect either, and I know it.

The challenge is always drawing the lines: what can we re-frame or accept…live with, if you will…and what issues will we dig in and fight for?

There are things worth working for, things that need to be changed. But a lot of what frustrates just isn’t important, in the big picture.

And yet, so much of the little stuff gets in the way of the good stuff! The irritants of life derail the day, shift the focus, sharpen tones.

I need to do a better job of framing. I need to recognize that the habits that annoy, or the things that go wrong in my day, are not worth angst, and certainly not worth spreading my frustrations to others.

Why do I let something insignificant be more important than the people I love, or the issues of real value? I think it’s because the small things are often the barriers of the moment…those “in your face” challenges that lead to a spike of temper, raised voices, impatience or unkindness.

That’s not who I want to be on any day.

And so I remind, and re-train, and ask myself, on a regular basis, “how does this help?” How does it help my day to bark at my husband, or tell myself a story about all the things that have gone wrong since I got up this morning?

Perspective, re-framing, choosing to live out of kindness and patience, rather than frustration…none of this makes me a saint. In fact, it’s hard work to coach myself out of these attitudes. But living with intention makes me happier and calmer. And that’s a gift to myself that’s worth the effort of re-framing.

I find it’s a lesson I have to re-visit often. I remind myself of the good things, the great people in my life. I practice gratitude. I ask myself what will matter in a year, or even in a week? Will it be this issue that flashes up to cause anger, or make me feel like I’m doing more than my fair share?

Please understand…in the words of Ann Voskamp, I’m preaching gospel to myself. I don’t do this well, or all the time. But I see it…I see how often I’m my worst enemy, letting the little things become big, and forgetting what’s truly important…the laughter of someone I love, health, opportunity to do something good with my day.

So, re-framing…perspective…gratitude…the lessons come packaged in different ways, but the bottom line is always the same. I have the ability to shape my life, my happiness, by what I focus on, by choosing the narrative I rehearse to myself.

I have the power. You have the power in your life. That’s the thing…we each have this amazing potential to frame our lives with joy and humor, or to frame our lives with anger and impatience.

Once more, for today, I promise myself to see differently, to show patience, and to ask my favorite question, “how does this help?” It’s a habit that requires daily practice, this effort at re-framing.

And maybe I won’t have to worry about that trickle of water I sometimes hear at night.🙂

~ Sheila

 

Sometimes you need to be still…

For two years I’ve lived out of a suitcase. Two years.

I never saw that coming.

The past two years, since we sold the house in Ketchikan, we’ve worked in small communities in SE Alaska, lived in temporary duty clinic housing, and traveled.

We’ve traveled a lot.

And that’s been good. We’ve traveled for work and traveled for fun, spent time with family and friends, and seen some amazing places. We sorted through a lot of stresses, a lot of questions, as individuals, and as a couple.

We didn’t really have a plan when this chapter began. We just sort of fell into this life. Mostly we couldn’t decide what we wanted, where we wanted to make a home again. We still haven’t decided. And the thing about Alaska is, there’s always plenty of work. It’s easy to ride the circuit of clinics, spending a few weeks or a month at a time, take a break, then make the rounds again. It’s easy to stay busy when you can’t make a decision.

But as of this month, we’re creating a hub again.

We didn’t buy a house, or settle on our “happily ever after” place. We haven’t retired, and we’re not working full-time either.

One of the locations where we’ve worked on a regular basis has individual clinic housing available that we can use with a limited commitment, so we’re taking the offer of housing, more stability, and a space to unpack, for the first time in a long time.

My personal commitment to Alaska is on the horizon. I have roughly four years to go to my next decade, and that’s the timeline I’m working with.

While I’m slightly giddy about seeing my Kitchen Aid again, spreading out, and having access to all my wardrobe in one place, this decision also serves other needs.

There’s no doubt we’ll be here more regularly, even though I expect we’ll still be working in other locations on occasion. It will be good to have a part in adding stability to this clinic. We’re not indispensable…no one is…but we have a contribution to make.

The other thing I’ve realized is: I need some stillness in my life.

In the past year I wrote a book, launched a site, I’m creating an online course, and I’m developing webinars and videos. All of it was done between working in three different locations, traveling back and forth cross-country, and trying to make sure I had the right clothes for the right season and occasion in my trusty roller bags.

Some days I’m disheartened because I have so much I want to do, and I feel so slow at accomplishing.

I finally recognized I’m never going to progress unless I slow down and carve out some space, and time. I’ve been telling myself if I’m focused, if I want to take my online work to the next level, I just have to try harder, be more determined.

What I really need is to slow down a bit. I need to be in the same place for more than two weeks at a stretch. I need to spend more time writing, and less time packing.

I need to set up my little home studio and leave it in place, rather than trying to cart it around with me. I need to use the timeline I set for Alaska as the timeline for my personal work goals as well.

Even as I write this, we’ve got more travel lined up for the fall. But I think the difference is in my mindset. There’s a place in this home that’s just right for a little creative nook, and I’m excited to have more time to invest in the work I’ve committed to.

So much about the last decade has been unexpected. To be honest, that pretty much sums up my experience of Alaska. Unexpected. Some good, some not-so-good. But this is a twist I hope will be in the first category.

And maybe my roller bags will get a well-earned break.🙂

~ Sheila

 

 

My country, ’tis of thee…

It’s been a while since I wrote on this site. Life has been full of travel, recruiting, day jobs, and family.

I had intended to do a post about fish and chips, a follow-up to the last post on fishing. I wanted to be light-hearted and fun.

But today I don’t feel light-hearted, and I want to say why.

I like to think I’m patriotic. Not in the grating, super-power-proud-gloating sense, but in the tear-up-when-I-see-a story-of-American-heart-and-American-goodness sense. Whenever I’ve been out of the country and I feel the touch-down of the plane’s wheels on American soil, no matter the point of entry, I always breathe a little welcome sigh, a recognition of being “home.” I love so many of the things that Americans sheepishly acknowledge…speaking generically, we really are a melting pot. We love corny things, little guys winning uphill battles, we value fairness and people standing up to challenge wrongs. There’s a segment of the population that’s sophisticated, by the going standard, for sure, but I think the majority of us are still focused on the basics…family, making a life for our kids, being part of communities that need good people and good ethics.

Which brings me to my moral dilemma. As the events of the last few days have unfolded, I’m reminded, again, that we have two candidates for the highest office in the land, and I can’t vote for one, and won’t vote for the other. The order of which names fit with “can’t” and “won’t” change from time to time, but the bottom line is the same. No options.

I would love to see a woman in the office of president, but not this woman. I can’t get past the enormous sums of wealth this candidate and her family have accumulated in public service, with no visible sign of creating anything of value, other than influence and favors. I’ve seen estimates of net worth from $30 million up to $111 million. Add that to the decades of scandal and charges of corruption that have followed this family, and I just can’t vote for more of the same. I’m sure there is some truth and some hype, but really, can’t we do better? From the beginning of this election cycle, through the primary season when so many of the contests looked unfairly rigged, there’s been a sense that this was a choice made for voters, rather than by voters. There’s nothing right about that.

A lot of my distaste comes from exhaustion. I wish politicians had the grace to move off the stage after a few years, but it seems almost no one does any more. I am fiercely opposed to political dynasties. I believe allowing multiple family members to milk the political system off name recognition and shared influence gives unfair advantage and access to a process that should be based on merit and work, not who one is married to, born to, or otherwise related to.

And the other candidate…well, I just can’t go there either.

I understand we’re electing a president, not a pope (I read that little nugget recently). I understand we’re all human, we all have faults and flaws, and who am I to judge, anyway? I’ll tell you who I am: I’m a voter. And while I accept that any human being is far from perfect, I want to elect someone who has aspiration toward high standards, who I can look up to and feel that at least they’re attempting to be a person of honor.

I’m sure that all people in places of leadership have their bad moments, lapses in judgment, and say things they regret. I do all that too. We all do. But I’m not proud of those moments when I fall short. I don’t go around bragging on myself that I got away with bad behavior, or find myself expressing remorse because I got caught at something and now have to try to look sorry, whether I really am or not.

I understand that in many ways, culturally we’ve done away with moral standards, with the traditional “rights” and “wrongs” of past eras. Or maybe we haven’t. Maybe we’ve told ourselves we’re all grown up now, so sophisticated we don’t pass judgement on anyone anymore. Live how you want, say what you want, just don’t get caught on camera or mic, right?

I think our culture has an up-close view of what that looks like in a potential leader, and we’re disgusted with what we see…and who we’ve become, to some extent. Maybe the reason so many are outraged with this candidate is that he is a self-indictment, in many ways.

After all, morality either matters, or it doesn’t. Crude language is either acceptable, or it isn’t. Politicians either have private lives, or they don’t. We can’t really have it both ways.

Personally, I believe when someone offers themselves up for the highest office in the land,  for that time, they don’t have a private life. Their children should be off limits, but anyone running for the office of president should be prepared for every word and action to come under a microscope. And if they’re not, maybe they should not invite the scrutiny of the world. I’m not saying that’s fair, or even right. But in this day of ever-present media, and no subject off limits, that’s the way it is.

Honestly, I would be glad to not be privy to the personal details of candidates’ lives…I don’t want to know all the nitty-gritty. But that’s not the culture we live in, when anything and everything is fair game for dinner table conversation and social media posts.

I wish the wise people who founded this nation had given us a blueprint for this scenario: what to do when we want a do-over, but don’t want to create a constitutional crisis or a revolutionary change. I don’t want to see anything like that happen. I do want a way out of this dilemma.

Personally, I would be happy to see the vice-presidential candidates take over the top of the ticket.

Or if we can’t take that approach, maybe we can launch a write-in candidate via social media to win the most votes? Who will step forward to save us from these two? Anyone? Anyone?

Going forward, I think we need to create constitutional amendments that provide two things:

Term limits to two election cycles…I don’t care if you run for dog-catcher, two terms and you’re out. Whatever benefit accrues from having people in office who know the system are far outweighed by having people in office who corrupt the system.

Only one family member can be president, period. This may seem unfair and arbitrary, but I think we could go a long way toward fixing the political dynasty issue if we took the top prize off the table, once someone in the family has had it. Enough already. Go home, go away, just go! There’s a whole country full of people who are potential candidates. Let someone else step up to bat.

I know there are people who believe in both these candidates, who will vote for them for various reasons, and I understand that…we all have to vote our own consciences. For me, this is a year of none of the above. I’m not excited about the third party candidates either, and realistically, we’re not at a point in our politics where that makes a difference. No third party candidate has enough traction to matter, at least not yet.

Maybe the lessons of this election cycle, on both sides, will be that choosing candidates wisely is important. By the time we’re at this stage of the process, it’s too late to get picky…we’re stuck, voting for undesirables, or voting for no one.

It’s rare that I feel much angst politically. Usually I just tell myself that things will work out, and of course, life goes on, as I’m sure it will, whatever the November election brings. But after such a season, I hope there’s a national call for change to some of our process so we don’t find ourselves here again.

Surely, we can do better than this. We deserve better, our children deserve better. It’s time to look in the mirror, and face what we’ve allowed.

 

 

Fish ON!

Some summers in SE Alaska are jewels, and jewel-toned in color. The sky is blue, the water is a deeper blue, and the rain forest vegetation is a lush green.

 

But all that takes a back seat to the draw that brings so many tourists to this area. With the salmon capital of the world right here, what else could it be?

That’s right…fish! Salmon and halibut are king, but there are other fish in these waters, and when you’re out for the day, or you’ve come up for a few days of high-priced guided fishing, you want to take something home. Most people coming up to fish have a target, either salmon or halibut. Non-fisher that I am, before I lived here I wouldn’t have really known much about the variables in guiding for different types of fish. But fishing is an art, like any other skill. It’s also a hobby, sport, industry, and a way of life for so many in SE Alaska.

 

As with any hobby/sport/industry, you can outfit yourself with a lot of tools, gadgets, must-have and nice-to-have equipment. For professional guides, the challenge is not just having equipment for yourself or your family; you have to have enough gear to supply the guests you take out. And a boat.

 

There’s a reason fresh-caught fish is expensive, and when you spend some time around these fishermen, you quickly realize to be successful in the fishing industry requires a hefty investment of time, money, and effort, to say nothing of skill, and knowing these waters. I listen to fishing guides talk, and it’s a different language with its own idiom, terms that I can only hazily interpret the meaning, and stories that are fish-sized.

 

Another factor that impacts this industry is the seasonality, whether you’re fishing commercially, as a guide, or even as an individual. You have to have the right type of license, know where to fish, know when to fish, and then be prepared to fish while the fishing’s good. There are “openings” for different types of commercial fishing, at different points in the season, and the state regulates the limits that can be caught. Fishing lodges are seasonal as well. The short summer here means lodges have to make their money in a compressed time frame. In the peak of the season, communities that draw fishing tourists are hopping. Then almost overnight, things change. The season ends, the crowds fly away, and the sleepy little towns go back to their off-season norm. Lodges close, the seasonal workers leave, and the locals breathe a sigh of relief.

 

Some years the fishing’s amazing, and the commercial industry makes fantastic amounts of money. And other years, it just doesn’t happen. This year I hear the water wasn’t right for the salmon. Too warm maybe? Seems hard to believe (I’ve dipped a toe in these Pacific waters, and it’s chilly to me!) but these fish know their water, and if it’s not right, the industry numbers reflect that. So the next time you’re buying fish in the market, or eating it at a restaurant, just know…there’s a reason it’s pricey. But it’s also delicious, and good for you, so maybe that will make it easier to pay the bill, as you reflect on your heart-healthy fish entree.

 

We like fish, and we like to fish, but we don’t get out often…sometimes once a season, or maybe a couple of times if we’re lucky. I sometimes fish, sometimes just go along to bring food, take photos, and enjoy a few hours on the water.

 

This time I fished. I bought an annual fishing license, and good thing I did! We were out with a couple of locals on Prince of Wales, and we caught our limit of halibut, plus a few cod and snapper. No salmon this time.

 

The day was glorious, the fish were biting enough to give us a nice catch, and we got to spend a day on the water…and that always beats a day in the office!

 

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I made raisins!

So I was scrolling through Pinterest a few days ago…often my reward at the end of the day, or when I have a few minutes to wait in line (though I admit the images on my iPhone screen are not as satisfying as they are on my laptop)…and I saw a pin for making homemade raisins. I had to give it a try as I’d just bought some beautiful red seedless grapes. And what could be better than turing my beautiful grapes into beautiful raisins? (Now don’t say you’ve never seen a beautiful raisin!)

I’ve been known to buy the big raisins…did you know they come in more than one size? (I only discovered that a few years ago.) I love raisins that are plump and juicy…I’ve got no love for the dried up, shriveled versions of this grape-reduction. I adore raisins in all sorts of dishes (try adding them to tuna salad, or a sweet / savory green salad), and I even enjoy eating them without the wrap-around of cookie or cake. There’s something so satisfying about the squish factor! So, as a true raisin fan, this seemed like a pin for me.🙂

The instructions were simple enough, but I made the process even easier. The first step was a quick blanch, then a plunge into ice water to stop the cooking. This is to soften the grape skins. But this was an optional step, and I decided to skip it. The “recipe” is so basic…honestly I couldn’t believe it never occurred to me to try this before. I suppose that’s the power of pre-packaged food…a lot of things that are very doable at home have an aura of mystery and difficulty about them.

But as it turns out, making raisins at home is so easy, I may never buy a box again.🙂

And I have to say, mine are better than any I’ve ever bought!

So this is all you do:

Give the grapes a quick rinse, then remove the stems. Place in a baking dish.

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I don’t have a dehydrator handy…hey, I’m living in clinic housing, so my options are pretty basic…but I do have an oven, and that’s actually what the instructions suggested…use an oven, or dry the grapes in the sun…I opted for the oven, since you can’t always count on sunshine in the rainforest of SE Alaska. Set the oven temp to about 180, pop the grapes in, close the door, and let the low heat do its magic. That’s really all there is to it.

This is how the grapes looked after the first few hours:

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You can see they’re beginning to look raisin-y, and give up some of their juices.

I left the grapes in overnight, although the instructions said to leave them about five hours. This is what I had the next morning:

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They were perfect! (Ok, the pan is not lovely…you don’t get lovely pans in clinic housing.) But the raisins were this magical reduction of grape flavor, still just slightly squishy to bite, a lot lighter than the boxed variety. I’ve always assumed that the dark raisins were from red grapes, but these were definitely not as dark as the commercial version.

I stored my freshly dried baby raisins…that is an odd description!…in the fridge, just put them in a resealable container, though I don’t store commercially made raisins in the fridge. But I thought this home version would do better staying chilled. There’s enough moisture still on the raisins I could see them moulding if stored at a room temp.

So all week I’ve been eating a few at a time as a snack. They’re so delicious, and really a handful is enough to satisfy a sweet craving. I’ve tried drying a few other things over the years, and grapes are a great addition to my drying repertoire. This is so easy, and so yummy, I think I’ll be making raisins on a regular basis.

Give it a try, and let me know what you think!

~ Sheila

Come visit Story Revisioned

Hello! If you’re wondering what’s happening with Grace and Life, it’s largely been on hiatus, resting while I’ve worked on a new site, Story Revisioned. Grace and Life will continue, but I hope you’ll also check out the kid on the block, and let me know what you think.

Story Revisioned grew out of my growth. As an author, I know the value of revising my work. As a human being, I know the power of using vision to revise my personal story, my life story.

The junction of these two realities…that every life requires revision, and revisions are best designed using vision and intention…Story Revisioned is the result. I wanted to create a place, a home, to exchange stories with readers. And I wanted to create a site which allows me to offer what I’ve learned, what I’m still learning. You see, these aren’t just stories to entertain…they’re stories with meaning, with a point to make, or an overcoming to celebrate.

You’ll find helps and encouragement, tools and inspiration at Story Revisioned. I hope you’ll find challenges too, ideas worth sharing, and making your own.

Please visit and look around, wander through the pages, stop and leave a comment if you’d like. Better yet, leave your story. My hope is that visitors will feel welcome and empowered, nurtured and stimulated by what’s offered. We’ll all learn from each other, shall we? I’d be honored if you sign up to follow by email. You’ll find opportunity to do that, as well as a welcome gift, when you follow this link.

See you over there!

~Sheila

Can digital work survive like paper?

For the past month I’ve been listening to the soundtrack from the hit play Hamilton, based on the book Alexander Hamilton, by Ron Chernow. I finally downloaded the Kindle edition of the book and started reading it last week, and I’m struck by the author’s references to the writings of people of the 1700s. Some of the references are to letters and other documents that seem fairly obscure. In fact, in the book, the author notes that we’ve learned a lot of what we know about Alexander Hamilton from material that’s come to light only in the last 50+ years, as more than 22,000 pages of Hamilton’s writings were published.

Of course we’re used to reading books and material written centuries ago. From the Bible to ancient texts from early civilizations, Shakespeare and the great writers of all genres and eras, right up to the entrance of the digital era…even the not-great writers…the every-day and common recordings of business, home life, letters, journals, etc…all of it was written on materials that were physical and perishable.

But they were also savable. Keepable. And findable. Readable. And re-producable.

I can’t help but wonder, as I write away on my keyboard, if the words I save to my blog will be readable hundreds of years from now, if they’re only in digital form?

If I stop paying for my domain name, and make no provision to move the posts to a new site, or have them printed, I suppose they would disappear, as if I never wrote.

Here’s an interesting post on this problem…and it is a problem. While I fully expect the digital world to be with us forever, if we don’t experience nuclear winter, or some catastrophic natural event that shuts us all down, the digital world is fragile is ways that the physical world is not. With the changes to technology over time, and the ongoing necessity of financial backing, the issues of who pays to maintain websites, domain names, provide tech support, etc., are thorny.

And it seems there aren’t really good long-term solutions.

I’ve spent the last decade transitioning to digital everything, and I don’t regret that. But reading about information dug out of letters from the early 1700s has made me think about my letters, or rather, my lack of letters. I email, and text, post Facebook messages. But it’s extremely rare these days that I write anything that could be found twenty years from now, likely, much less two hundred years from now.

To be honest, most of what I write doesn’t merit saving…most of it’s just the stuff of everyday life. But then, that’s how we know about the past…because someone wrote about everyday life, and we can look back through time, through letters, through newspapers and books, old photos and journals.

Of course there are printed books and materials everywhere, even in this digital age. I’m not concerned that the future won’t know our time. There’s a huge volume of printed work that will surely exist, long ages from now.

But I have to admit, I’m becoming thoughtful about my work. Do I care if it doesn’t survive me? And if I want it to survive my time on earth, if writing is part of the legacy I want to leave, what do I do to make sure there’s something savable, keepable, readable, after I’m not around to pay to keep a website live, or deal with tech glitches?

It’s not as if this is a totally new thought. Of course I’ve had the experience of clicking on a link only to find that it doesn’t work. Someone set up a site, once upon a time, and then eventually quit maintaining it…you get a message that the page can’t be found, and whatever was there once, is no more.

Could ages past have more longevity than this modern time, with all our sophistication and technology? I think that’s entirely possible. Maybe even probable.

Read the post I linked above…it will make you think.

I suppose someone, some enterprising young start-up company will come up with solutions, there for anyone who is able and willing to pay for digital immortality. But who knows what that would look like?

And I’m thinking…maybe there’s something to be said for printed books after all.