The true mark of a relaxed mind is losing track of the days.
Stuff happens, but when that stuff happened isn’t easy to recall.
It was only when I was half a pot of coffee into my morning of waiting for the sun to dry the deck enough I could re-stain it that I remembered I hadn’t written my column.
It’s not that there hasn’t been anything eventful to write about quite the opposite actually, I’m overwhelmed. I just can’t tag days to it all.
At some point Dan, Brian, Scott and I went out on the ocean with Rafael to the tree hole and caught 24 silver salmon in an hour and a half. A few days ago three of us went to the tree hole on the Thorne River and caught 17 silvers in about the same amount of time. That may have been the same trip I snagged a sockeye in the tail, brought it in, apologized and released it but I’m not sure.
A few days ago I finished chopping the four cords of firewood which we then stacked in neat walls next to the house. I’m positive that was after I went on a hike to watch the sunset, but forgot my headlamp so I came down early.
Somewhere in there we went to a halibut enchilada fundraiser for the Craig wrestling team. I can’t remember what day it was, but I can tell you that I cannot get enough halibut enchiladas. I’ve had two different versions this summer and even cooked a batch myself. I haven’t come across any studies on the Internet that have found a correlation between halibut enchilada intake and improving life expectancy, but I’ll keep looking.
There was that day I took the guys to the falls at the mouth of the Klawock River, and we had to “hey bear” our way through a trail pinched shut by brutally thick berry bushes to get there. I thought it was pretty funny, but Dan didn’t agree with me. Bears like berries and with the rush of the water drowning out our movements it would have been easy to turn the corner into a snacking blackie. But it was close to noon and it was really sunny so we were fine.
Chuck Yeager (the first pilot to travel faster than the speed of sound) was, or is still up on the island fishing which is pretty cool. Can’t remember what day I heard that. It was close to the time the soundtrack to this summer went 100 percent country.
I think it was Friday — no, Saturday — I went out to Howie’s to interview him for a profile piece. He and his fiance are in the process of buying a place a couple miles out the gravel road from Craig. I felt like I was on the Do It Yourself Network. The spot is awesome and the house has a ton of potential – which is usually a nice way of saying it needs some work. There is no doubt it is going to eventually be an incredible home for them to start their lives together in, but currently it takes some vision. Both have plenty.
Howie grew up on a horse farm an hour from Buffalo, N.Y., and moved to Alaska, “because there was nothing for me there.” His fiance Kim left Portland for the same reason.
“I wanted adventure.”
I should have stayed for dinner.
The one series of events I can positively attach to a day would be Monday. I read 30 pages in my textbook for the research methods class I need for my masters program, finished sanding the deck, returned the sander then stopped by Two Girls Fishing (a fish processing shop) to distract Kaleigh and Sabrina while they filet, chunk, vacuum pack and freeze halibut, yelloweye, ling cod, black bass and salmon.
Sometimes I help out by putting the proper identification sticker on the packaging. I didn’t Monday because when Tess showed up, she stole my seat on the boxing table. So in protest I just kept drinking my coffee then went home and grilled burgers and brats.
See column at: