Wilderness Blues- Ramblings from the Great Land

  When we lived in Hoonah, we knew just about everybody in town. Most folks came to the store where I worked at least once a week. Some folks came several times a week and some came in every day. I guess they wanted to plan dinner based on what we had on the shelves at the time. In any event, in a small town of 850 people, it was hard not to know everyone. My good friends across the street informed me the other night that the neighbor who we had known as Dwight, was in reality Glenn, with two n's. I was only repeating what Jan had told me a few years ago. She had gone and introduced herself to Dwight/Glenn and his wife Maxine. They are about our age, elderly, apparently childless, and pretty much keep to themselves, which is kind of hard to do when you live in a cul-de-sac of 9 homes. How in the world she managed to mangle his name is anyone's guess. Dwight doesn't sound anything like Glenn with two N's. His wife was talking to my friends and mentioned that it was spell...

 I was down at Hoonah Trading shopping the other day. I'm usually there at least daily, sometimes multiple times per day. They have the only hardware store in town as well as groceries and fuel, plus Jan works there, and I often drop in when I'm picking her up for lunch.  I frequently end up buying something and of course automatically get a receipt, which I usually just put in my pocket.  It's not all that uncommon for me to have six or eight of the blasted things cluttering up  my pockets or the seat of the truck. Often they're scattered around the house, on the kitchen counter or the dining room table. When I received my mandatory receipt the other day, I happened to mention, wouldn't it be great if they made the receipts out of toilet paper? Then you would have something useful. If you went out hunting and the call of nature struck while  you were in the woods, you just reach right into your pocket and pull out a handful of receipts and you're good to g...