Wilderness Blues- Ramblings from the Great Land

  From time to time, I like to vent my frustration out in the open. In part because it makes me feel better to get something off my chest, and in part I'm hoping for a solution, or at the very least some agreement with my view. Today I'd like to say a few words about pockets. They have been around for about five hundred years, and are a necessary part of every man's attire. Where else could we put our keys, glasses, pencils, telephones and dozens of other doo-dads? While I don't wear cargo pants, you know those trousers with umpteen pockets, I would probably be tempted to. However, I know how I am. In no time at all I'd have every pocket filled with something, just in case I needed it that day. Before you know it, I wouldn't be able to walk. Something like Swiss Army cargo pants might be a good idea. They would come pre-filled with only the necessities that the average man might need, plus a few extras, like some fishing line and a few hooks in case you passed b

     My wife, Jan, has spent the last few days baking. It was quite a monumental effort requiring her to clean the kitchen three times one day alone. I can attest to the fact that baking is a messy business. Whenever I make Mexican Quiche  I incorporate all the counter space. I'm too cheap to pay for pre-made pie crusts, so I make my own, thus I need room for the flour and Crisco and a big bowl. Then I have to drag out the eggs, a cutting board for the veggies, and bowls for the salsa and canned milk. What a mess. In any event, I was glad that she cleaned up after herself. It makes eating the cookies she's baked all the more pleasant. As you can see, she made ample amounts of chocolate chip cookies, both with nuts and without, some sugar cookies, and another kind that is coated in powdered sugar and rolled in crushed pecans. I can't recall what she called them, and I didn't have room for them in the picture, but it doesn't really matter. The bottom line is that they

    I read this post last night on the writing web site Fan Story, and asked permission from the author, Diane Truelove, if I could post it here on my blog. She graciously allowed me to. I found the story to be a truly delightful gift to the readers, and I hope you agree.  Biographical Non-Fiction posted December 16, 2018 er and is holding the #56 spot on the  top ranked reviewer list . Portfolio  |  Become A Fan A Christmas long remembered and cherished... The Magic of Santa's Christmas Box by  Mrs. KT Afternoon shadows are now gathering on this snow-tossed December Sunday as I sit here by the glow of a warm, cheerful fire. My Christmas shopping is completed, cards have been mailed, and baked goods have taken over the kitchen counters. Soon, our home will be filled with the laughter of our adult children, grandchildren, and dear friends as Christmas festivities begin. But in these quiet moments, as I await everyone's arrival, I smile, as my thoughts turn to remembered laughter

   Another Thanksgiving has come and gone. It's my favorite holiday. I think it's appropriate to take at least one day of the year and give thought to our many blessings, and thank God for them. It's also the one day of the year when a person can get away with eating massive amounts of delicious food and not feel too guilty about it.   Like many households in America, we had turkey for dinner. One of my sons-in-law wanted ham as well, and since he donated one, we cooked it also. Of course there was all the trimmings to go with the meat- green bean casserole, candied yams with marshmallows, cranberry sauce, deviled eggs, stuffing, mashed potatoes, cranberry Jello salad with cream cheese, a relish tray and of course pie. Pumpkin and apple both.    Even though there were eleven people at my table, our stomachs can only hold so much at one sitting. That means leftovers. I don't mind leftovers for a day or two, but we still have turkey in the refrigerator, and frankly, I'

  I took this picture last month before we got any snow- obviously.  It's been a kind of slow time as far as writing a post goes. Nothing too exciting happening in my life, which I guess I should be glad about. We did have the power go out four times in the past few weeks. Once because of heavy snow, once because of a transformer catching fire and once because of the wind I suppose. The last time I have no idea why it went out, it just did. Unfortunately, all that power surging and fluctuation caused my garage door opener to quit working. I tried to reset it, following the directions on the back, but that didn't work. Then I watched a video that showed the same things that the back of the opener said, but that didn't work either, so now I have no recourse but to call someone and pay big bucks to either get it fixed or buy a new one. What a hassle. Of course none of that has anything to do with the moose that came to visit last month. My friends Patty and Butch had just come

   On September 6th this year I sent a package to my friend Buffalo Bob Holden in Townshend Vermont. I sent it media rate, since it had a book and and a CD in it, and that's the cheapest way to send it. I fully expected it to take a few weeks to get to him. Since I don't pay the full price of first class mail, which would be roughly twice the amount or more than media mail, I expect it to take longer. However, what I didn't expect was that it would take two months and ten days to arrive. Fortunately, there is a tracking number on the package that allows me to see the progress of the package. To say the least, if this package was eligible for airline miles, it could probably take a trip to Europe and back with miles to spare. One other time I had sent Buffalo a similar package- media rate. That one also took over six weeks as I recall, perhaps longer. When he asked his postmaster about that one, the guy mentioned that along the way it had been delivered to several distributi

  I made muffins again the other night. If you're a buffoon, I could make muffoons, but they wouldn't  taste as good.  The church board was supposed to meet at our house on Tuesday because Jan can't see to drive at night, and though I can kind of see in the dark, why take a chance on wrecking the car to go to a church board meeting? If I'm going to wreck the car, I'd rather it be because of something exciting. Anyway, it was decided that everyone would come over here instead. Wanting to be a good host, and of course wanting to expand my already voluminous belly, I opted to make some muffins for our guests. It's a recipe that I've written about before, involving sour cream and blueberries. As expected, they turned out really, really good.  If you follow the recipe, it's amazing how well your product turns out. What a concept. It just so happens that Tuesday it started to snow. I mentioned to Jan that they might cancel the meeting, but it wasn't until

   It's the time of year when so many people start to decorate their homes and lawns with Halloween themes. We drove down a street today just looking at new areas, and one house we passed was covered top to bottom with witches and tombstones, spiders, pumpkins, cob webs, ghosts and Lord knows what all else. I don't really know what pumpkins have to do with Halloween, except that they are harvested this time of year. It's funny that a holiday that is supposed to be spooky utilizes one of the same icons that Thanksgiving is known for. Does anyone have pumpkin pie for Halloween? I wonder how that would go over. The neighborhood kids knock on your door and instead of bags of candy corn or popcorn balls, you give them a piece of pumpkin pie. Would they soap your windows or string toilet paper around your trees if you didn't top the pie with whipped cream? It's hard to say. Kids can be vindictive. I'm reminded of a conversation that I had with some friends from my nei

    When my oldest daughter, Jennifer was a teacher, she used to sing a little song. "Clean up, Clean up... I don't know the rest of the words, if there were any others. She used to sing it to the class and around her house to her kids too I believe.  That song was running through my mind a couple days ago when I went out into the neighborhood with my long handled grabber and a trash bag. The day was really nice; sunny and about fifty degrees, which may sound chilly to those farther south, but it was comfortable for me. I just donned a jacket and got busy. My biggest fear was that someone would be watching me as they drove by and would run into me while I walked along the side of the road picking up other peoples trash. There is a city wide clean up in May, but I didn't want to have to see trash all over the ground until the snow falls. I like the idea of driving by and not having to see a bunch of plastic fast food cups, paper, booze bottles and all other manner of junk o

I went up to Hatcher Pass about ten days ago. Jan and Autumn had gone to Anchorage to go shopping, and since the day was picture perfect, I decided to take a trip back up to Hatcher even though I had been there the week before. It was amazing how fast things had changed. When I was there the first time, I went up with Jan and her sister Jill. We drove all the way up to the Independence mine, and there was no sign of snow anywhere. As you can see, that all changed rapidly. I was actually hoping to get some more pictures of the mine. When I was there the first time, the battery on my camera died- go figure. This time the gravel road that goes over to Willow and passes by a lake that I was hoping to fish, was closed. There was also a sign warning of icy roads by the toll area before the mine, so I didn't bother going up. The last thing I need is to go sliding off the road and down a mountain. The bottom picture is of the Little Susitna River. It's clear as a bell and runs really f

   For the past few weeks my sister-in-law, Jill, has been visiting. She came for a visit once or twice when we lived in Hoonah, so it was nice for her to get to see something totally different this time around. This past Saturday, we drove to Hatcher Pass, about forty-five minutes away. The bottom three pictures are from there. The week before we took about a four hour trip, one way, to Denali National Park.  It was Labor Day weekend, and I was a little leery of all the traffic, but it wasn't too bad. Once inside the park, you can only drive about twenty miles to Savage River, and there really isn't all that much to see. There is an unpaved road beyond that but you have to take a tour bus or some such thing in order to run on that. I'm not sure how far it goes or if you ever get to see the mountain (Denali) once you get to the end. There were several spots along the way while we were still about a hundred miles away where we could pull off and stop, but of course we didn&#

  The longer I live, the more of my friends I lose. I suppose in part because some of my closest friends have been older than me. Last week, as I was sitting in my easy chair, Jan came upstairs and let me know that Uncle Bill had passed away. I knew that he was dealing with cancer, but I thought it was more or less under control. When I spoke to his oldest son, Doug, he mentioned that Bill had been hospitalized for pneumonia. I guess in his weakened state, his body just couldn't fight off the inevitable anymore. I wish he could have hung on for a little longer. Jan and I were planning a trip down south in October, and we had planned on dropping in and seeing Bill and his wife Sally. His passing is a bittersweet reminder that we only have today to make a phone call, or send a card or letter or drop in on a neighbor or friend. Tomorrow isn't guaranteed to any of us. I first met Bill when I was in the navy, almost fifty years ago.  I think it must have been the beginning of 1974 w

  I don't usually like to put out new posts before the last one has run for a bit. However, I feel the need to write this while it's still fresh in my mind.  Today I went to the movie theatre for the first time in almost fifty years. The last movie I saw in a theater was Bo Derrick in the movie-10. The movie I saw today left me with a much more inspired feeling and was just overall a better movie, delivering a message that needs to be shared with the world. Sound of Freedom explores the world of child sex trafficking. Unfortunately, it's a world wide problem. The movie is based on a true story. It takes place initially in the country of Honduras, and then Columbia. It stars Jim Caviezel , who was also the main character in the hit TV series Person of Interest and the movie, The Count of Monte Cristo. He's an excellent actor, and I believe he's been involved in several movies that address spiritual issues. He may have even played Christ in one movie. While the subjec

    I was going to write this post when I first got back from Hoonah, but life, and death, got in the way, and I've delayed doing it until now. I couldn't very well put off writing about the death of my good friend and fishing companion Fagan, so it took priority.  Then I had multiple projects that needed tackled around the house, so either I didn't have the time or the energy to do another post until now. So, here it goes. Last year I had made up my mind to sell the Bonnie J. My body was having a harder time keeping up with the demands of  wooden boat ownership, and though I was reluctant to sell on the one hand, I knew it was time. I put a price tag of $10,000 on it and hoped for the best. There were two interested buyers at the time. Both of them wouldn't have the money until the end of the fishing season or tourist season, as one of the prospective buyers worked at the cannery. I knew the one fellow, and while I wasn't sure that he would come through, he and his

  I was going to do a blog post about my last days of fishing on the Bonnie J. I've given the boat to a worthy person I believe and I wanted to reflect a little bit on my time with her, but yesterday my son Brian called with the news that my friend and long time Hoonah resident Fagan Skaflestad had passed away. It came as quite  a shock to me for some reason. I don't know why. He was in his early eighties I believe, but he always seemed so robust, so full of life. He was one of those guys that just seemed like would live forever. I can't even recall when we first met, I feel like I've known him most of my life. His family has been around Hoonah for decades. His dad, Alf, had a logging business and he and the boys logged up and down Port Frederick for years. They had a camp up in Salt Lake Bay if I recall correctly, and Fagan used to tell me about running around in a skiff up in the Narrows, fishing for King Salmon. He had the uncanny ability of finding fish when few oth