Wilderness Blues- Ramblings from the Great Land

  Some years back, when I was living in Hoonah, I became the manager of the L. Kane Store. I always thought that it was a stupid name for a store, until a lady who was a friend of the family who owned the store mentioned that when it was established, back in 1893, women owning businesses was frowned upon. Her name was Louise Kane, and in order to do business with suppliers in Seattle, she shortened the name to L. Kane's. It was one of three stores in Hoonah at the time, and unfortunately was the one that a local fisherman named Frank preferred to shop at. He lived on his small wooden fishing boat with his Black Lab, appropriately named Blackie, in Spasski Bay. It was a protected harbor, regardless of which way the wind blew or how hard, and provided shelter year round, even during the fierce winter weather that blew in from Icy Strait. When I first met him he must have been in his seventies. He always seemed to have a few days' growth of beard and wore a dirty felt fedora, a kn...

  When I lived in Hoonah, I used to watch the news at night and listen as the announcer spoke of the various cities around Alaska. It wasn't until we moved north to Wasilla and could drive to many of the places that I'd only heard of that we finally visited. This past September Jan and I and our two daughters, Autumn and Liz and their husbands took a trip down to Valdez. The trip down was breathtaking, with the fall colors becoming more evident as we traveled closer to the coast. I was shocked at how much renting a room in a bed and breakfast was. Between the three families we dropped over $1200. 00 for two nights. There was nothing fancy about the place, and the breakfast was a kind of help yourself thing, no fancy pancakes or breakfast rolls. Cereal, juice and boiled eggs and of course coffee. They kind of had us by the short hairs though, so we paid up and kept quiet. Even though it was at the end of the salmon season, Dayville Road, where the public has access to the beach ...

  I was looking through the various contests at Fan Story, the writing site that I belong to, when I came across a writing prompt about what it would be like if the residents at a nursing home went off their meds and there was no one around to assist them. This is the story I came up with. It garnered my third place in the contest. I hope you enjoy it. I was about to enter the front door to the Morning Glory nursing facility when I saw Mrs. Culpepper sitting on the bench in the foyer with her Depends around her ankles. Thank God she had on her nightgown and was covered  from her shoulders to the top of her knees. I couldn't see if the floor underneath her was wet, or worse, but I was hoping she hadn't relieved herself yet or I'd be dealing with the mess once I got inside.   I tried the front door, but it wouldn't budge. I could see the red lights on a panel on the wall of the foyer, indicating the door was locked, but I didn't see any nurse or assistant around to un...

  I was with my daughter, Autumn yesterday, when she showed me a video clip from Saturday Night Live. I haven't watched the show in years because it became so political that it ceased to be funny. However, the clip she showed me was hilarious. It was a spoof of Yankee candles. It showed guests who had long overstayed their visit, and regardless of numerous hints, they just wouldn't leave the host's home. Finally, he resorted to lighting a candle that stank. Unlike Bayberry or Pumpkin, this candle was Get the ---- out of my house! It came in assorted smells like Rotten egg fart, Old Broccoli in a Plastic Bag, and Sweaty Crocs. It was really quite a hilarious skit, and as I was watching it, an unpleasant memory from my past came charging back into my mind. Some years back, when we were still living in Hoonah, I was working at one of the local stores that sold marine fuel. A fellow who I knew in passing came to the store and asked for some gas for his boat. While he was fuelin...

  I suppose one would have to be living under a rock to be unaware of the devastation that the most recent hurricane did to the Southeastern United States about a week ago. One of the hardest hit areas was Asheville, North Carolina, where something like thirty inches of rain fell in the mountains in twenty four hours, leaving an apocalyptic landscape behind. For as long as man has been on the earth there have been natural disasters, and if you haven't lived through one yet, there is a chance, and perhaps a good one, of experiencing one in your lifetime. Regardless of where we live, we either experience drought, floods, hurricanes, tornadoes, mudslides or earthquakes or perhaps other catastrophes that aren't mentioned here. The point I'm trying to make is that none of us is exempt, and while we can watch the news of disasters in a place far away and be glad that it didn't happen to us, we're left with an opportunity to help those in need. I'm reminded of the pass...

  Have you ever been going through your day, minding your own business, not hurting anyone, in fact possibly trying to be helpful when the caca hits the fan? I know you have. It happens to everyone; I'm certain of it. What I don't understand is, why does it happen with such regularity to me? When I was living in Hoonah, the only way off the island was either by boat or plane. As most of you know, I happened to be in an airplane that crashed into the water in February. That was more than a -Oh woe is me moment, but I survived it, so life goes on. However, the other way off the island, as I said, was by boat, usually the Alaska Marine Highway system. A ferry. I happened to be on a ferry that broke down so many times in my forty five years there, that the ferry terminal assistants used to ask me when I was planning on traveling, so they could schedule a trip at a different time. When I was writing my first book, I wasn't too familiar with computers. I'm still not, but I gu...