Wilderness Blues- Ramblings from the Great Land

 I went into the bathroom today to do something, probably the usual things that you would do in the bathroom, and as I was looking in the mirror I became aware of my eyebrows. If I could have gotten a closeup picture of just my eyebrows I would have. They're so big that I had to grow a mustache just to distract people. I notice that I seem to squint a lot, like I'm looking into the sun. Of course there isn't much sun here normally to look at, so obviously that's not the problem. The reason I seem to squint is that my eyebrows have a tendency to poke me in the eyes- the very thing they're supposed to be protecting! What gives? Periodically I trim them, but it doesn't really seem to help, I think it just causes them to grow at odd angles, mainly all in a downward direction towards my eyeballs. My dad had bushy eyebrows. They were pretty intimidating. It's probably a good thing that men have pretty bushy ones. It would be hard to be a person in authority i...

   There is something about music that touches all of us-at least everyone who can hear. I wonder if songs play in the minds of the deaf but they don't know how to express the melody. I believe Beethoven was deaf, but I'm not sure if he was born that way or if it came upon him later on in life. I guess I should research that. Whether you're riding in an elevator and having Musak piped in or shopping in your favorite department store during the Christmas season and listening to Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer for the four hundredth time, we're surrounded by music. If I may, I would like to give a word of advice to retailers all over the country. Stop trying to sell Christmas before Halloween is even here. Remember that your customers have already heard the country rendition, the rap rendition, the new age rendition and the original rendition of Hark the Herald Angels Sing more times than they care to ever hear again in their natural lives, long befor...

      I'd like to borrow a line from Brittany Spears and say "Oops I did it again." Now,I don't know what Brittany did again. For awhile there she was doing some pretty bizarre things, but I don't think the song is about any of those; of course I could be wrong. The thing I did again, so stupidly I might add, is I managed to cook the Di Giorno pizza without first removing the cardboard. Twice! How can anyone  cook the cardboard with the pizza twice?Somehow I managed to set the timer for the required amount of time for  a soft crust, and I did turn on the oven and took the plastic off. I don't know why I didn't notice the cardboard. I just laid it right on top of the stone wear pizza plate and shoved that puppy in the oven and slammed the door shut. I was actually feeling pretty proud of myself. It was Saturday evening and we were hosting our friends, the Pinards, for a friendly game of rummy. The game usually starts at 7:00 and Jan doesn't get off...

      There is something about the fog that appeals to writers- artists- philosophers. I'm not sure what it is. For certain it changes the scene before you. If it's not too thick, as is the case in the above pictures, it can add a bit of mystique to the ordinary. I see the Presbyterian church almost every day. There's nothing outstanding about it that I can see. Perhaps because I'm so familiar with it I don't really pay too much attention when I pass by, but throw in some fog and all of a sudden I see it in a whole new light. The bell in the cupola stands out as well as the cross and trees beside the church. The same with the giant Spruce in the middle picture. It's an impressive tree in any kind of weather, but in the fog it fairly well shouts. "I alone am left of the old growth forest that once grew in the center of town. From my towering heights bald eagles see far out into the bay. On my broad branches the raven and the crow perch...

     I imagine that those looking at this particular post are probably wondering-"what the heck is Botts showing me a picture of a stinking mop for?" Well, I'll tell you why. I have a contract to clean a government building here in town, which of course involves mopping. I needed a mop awhile back when the one I had finally started showing signs of old age. The strings were falling out, I couldn't tighten the hardware any more so the head started flopping back and forth and the handle was developing splinters. My wife happened to be going to Juneau so she picked  me up a new one. Now, I don't mean to be ungrateful. As you know, beggars can't be choosers. That being said, let me just mention that buying a mop is like buying underwear- one size doesn't fit all. It would be nice if it did- then as you got fatter, or in the unlikely event that you lost weight, you wouldn't have to go through your underwear drawer  and start tossing your boxers and bri...