We leave tomorrow on a trip we’ve been planning for months. We have one way tickets to Sandspit, BC. and booked a 4 day sea plane and boat tour through the UNESCO area of Gwaii Haanas. We’ll meet our friends Sarah and MayLynn who left last week. They drove the van up there and have been touring and exploring already.

Once we get up there, we’ll swop stories, advice and the van. Ken and I will continue exploring and they will fly back home.

Sandspit is in Haidia Gwaii – a group of islands off the coast a little north of Prince Rupert.

I admit I’ve been anxious about it all, but then again, I get anxious any time I try new things or go to new places.

We have a lot of connections to make, and are counting on others for some of those connections. I’m anxious because uhmmmm… I prefer to be in control of …. most everything.

Silly me, I worried about this, and was concerned about that; I was going on and on, then I was reminded… of those days way back when. I’ve hitchhiked across the USA two different times all by myself. I had about $35. in my pocket at the time. I was fine! I wasn’t scared; everything worked out just fine.

Today, I have credit cards, reservations, hotels, tour guides, a van, phones, and Ken. There is no reason to be nervous, and every reason to be excited. This is really a grand opportunity and I am one lucky girl.

By the way, Ken and I arrived kicking and screaming into the 90s this last week.

We both have cell phones now! Yup. We resisted long enough. We can now call people, text, take photos with a phone, check Facebook, play WWF, and use GPS when and if there’s a signal. We can walk around, saying, “Can you hear me now?” and we can butt dial lucky people who we have in our contact list!

We have become “those people” and I feel we will truly enter the modern world when I quit jumping in surprise, when the darn things makes a noise, or vibrates! I’m learning!

The phones are the only electronics we are bringing on this trip. It is possible to update this bloggy thing from the phone, BUT no promises as my thumb typing needs practice. Besides, I’m going old school and bringing a notebook for writing! 🙂

Suffice it to say, Ken and I are moving forward, as we go back in time. This trip we will visit and explore some very old growth, and ancient First Nations land, and will take the latest in technology as we do it.

I guess that explains my anxiousness and the excitement.

Today is my brothers birthday. Art is 64 and for the first time in a few years, he will not be going to Gabriels for a celebration taco dinner. He won’t get to wear the birthday sombrero tonight!
He’s getting something better.

Art is picking up the keys to his new house in Las Vegas today.

Yup – Art bought a house in Las Vegas, NV. They close the deal today. I’m hoping someone brings a cake!

I’ve seen photos of the house, thanks to the interweb. It is a nice place. Two bedrooms, open concept, nice upgrades all around. There’s a nice back yard patio, and it’s close to a public golf course.

Art’s house is in a “retirement” complex. There is a guard at a gate, and not just anyone can get in to cruise around. It’s a nice level of security, if and when Art goes traveling. The other benefit of being part of this gated community is, there are all types of amenities; a swimming pool, club house, monthly community potlucks, a gym, and as the realtor told Art, “loads of widows!” (read that again… not windows!)

Las Vegas is not my choice for places to live, but I know it will suit Art quite well. He likes the heat, he likes the lower altitude, and he likes the option of action that Las Vegas offers. I like that air fare is super cheap to and from Las Vegas, so I know we will get to visit each other more often.

I also know Art is a bit of a homebody, and having his own home is pure gold.
Happy Birthday brother mine – I am so happy for you and I love you.

I don’t think I try to hide my weirdness much, but there are times I’m a little embarrassed at how I react to certain things in life. Today is one of those times.

In the past, I’ve experienced lava as a phenomenon that grabs my attention, and out of the blue I will fall to my hands and knees, in tears, and exclaim, “That place is a bad place.” Lava is one incredibly stupid reason I quit going to Hawaii, even though my best girlfriend lives there.

Do not ask me why. I don’t know where this fear of lava comes from, all I know is, it is as real as anything I know. It doesn’t make sense! Yet, there you have it.

So, today is the big solar eclipse. We have a clear day in Sechelt, and are in the path for a 90% viewing. Ken made cool boxes for us to safely watch the darn thing, and we had plans to meet at the dog park with friends so we can all the share the experience.

Enter my embarrassment and weirdness….

This morning when I woke, I had the strangest feeling. I do not want to leave the house. Just thinking of watching the eclipse makes me tear up. I am not a silly superstitious idiot. I’m a weirdo.

So be it.

One hour later – I am the neighbourhood ambassador for the eclipse, as I am the only one around with a box! I was able to share with 7 people who would not have seen the darn thing otherwise.

One minute the weirdo, the next minute the hero!

Go figure!

Hi! Remember me?

I think about this bloggy thing every day, bu it seems writing here isn’t a priority now.

Plus, at times I feel this bloggy  thing, is a one way street. I blather on about my thoughts and adventures, but I don’t get to hear what you, the readers are up to. Still, Grandma said, you gotta write ’em to get ’em. So I write.

Why I am I writing today?

Thirty-three years ago, I said I’d try life without drinking.

So far so good. To drink now would just be weird, and yet I think about it.

I imagine sitting on the deck with a small glass of scotch, or brandy, or cough syrup, and enjoying the evening view. I don’t know what the reality of that act would be though.

They say, I will “go back” to where I left off. If that is true, it would be … not good.

There is a giant part of me though, that constantly wants to test it. I think I am different — that I could be a responsible adult, that all would be well, and I could join the “normal” folk who have a glass once in a while. But, after 33 years I admit I am brainwashed into thinking if I drink, I will strip my clothes off, run naked down the street, punch a cop, end up in a Mexican jail with gum in my hair, and barf on my shoes.

So, I don’t drink.

I know a lot of folks think alcoholism is a disease. Today I’m not sure and am thinking out loud.

What kind of disease blames the person for not “wanting” it enough to be well? A disease we are told only a spiritual connection to a made up god can heal. One where a lot of professionals and loved ones abandoned you if “give in” to cravings and relapse.

Today, I think of my alcoholism more like an injury, than a sickness.

Similar to when I blew my leg out water-skiing years ago. I really hurt myself. It took years to heal. I had to go to rehab, and help was necessary to get me walking again, it was a long and hard road. Still today, my leg cramps and at times, I still have trouble walking. The scar tissue from that injury is deep. I am crooked and compensate when I stand. But I do stand and I can walk!

I hurt myself and others when I drank. I had to focus on getting better for a long time.

Not drinking was a big part of it. I also got outside support, and it was imperative for me to learn who I am. As a result, I’ve been able to heal (not heel, #trumpyoufucker).

I say with great gratitude that I have a pretty cool life, with a pretty cool partner, today.

I’ve healed most of my injuries. Still, after all these years, there are some deep scars, and I continue to stand a bit crooked and constantly… I compensate.

So much has been happening and all the while I’ve been letting it.

Here are a few highlights and catch ups.

Ken went to bow and arrow camp for a week. He had a ball and came home with a beaut of a bow and a dozen arrows. We set up a cardboard target in the back yard and have been shooting. It is almost as fun as shooting golfs!

Moser and Marian came to visit while Ken was away. It was nice and they helped keep me somewhat sane, as I don’t live alone well.

I’ve been sewing. The “quilt as you go” technique I learned from Marsha and You Tube is a fun way to use up fabric! I like the process.

I ask that no one look to close at the stitching though. While my quilts have always been far from perfect, and I know a “poor workman blames their tools,” — one reason the stitching isn’t so great right now, and it is hard to accept, is the sewing machine I inherited from mom is getting old. It has a few hours on it now and has cranked out well over 40 quilts. (not all mine, mom was a quilter too) It’s been tuned up several times and yet… even though it was the Cadillac of machines back in the day, it is now just an old work horse. I am beginning to think it may need replacing soon. The horror!

The biggest thing on my mind right now are all the changes going on in New Mexico for my brother Art.

He sold the house we all grew up in and the movers come tomorrow. The deal closes on the 18th and an era will end.

The house at 90 Manhattan Loop will no longer be the Hudson house. Some of the best times and  also, a lot of the worst times in my life were spent in that house. A thousand memories are held in those walls. My mind goes there often enough and I wonder where it will go now when someone I don’t know moves in.

I’m proud of Art. He did well. I know he drove the realtor crazy with his stubbornness, but he got what he wanted, and did what he needed. He’s now beginning a new and hopefully easier life, in a place he will be happier.

I do wish I could snap my fingers though, and be in Dodge right now. I’d like to sit on the roof one last time and smoke a cigar and toast a final farewell.

A Hudson has lived in the house since 1955, and depending when you peeked into the window, there were good times and horrid.

I moved out a long time ago and still, I’m very emotional just thinking about Art closing the door and maybe even locking it for the very first time, as he steps out and into a new adventure.

Salute.

So much to say – so little interest in saying it. 🙂

I last saw Debbie Romero at our 40th high school reunion in 2013.

She was a bright star in our class. I met her at girl scout camp. She played the flute. We were friends, and she was smart – Debbie was so smart.

After we graduated from LAHS, Debbie got a scholarship to Smith College. That pretty well tells you just how incredible smart she was. At the reunion she told me she was a lawyer on the board of directors of Smith.

I lived in Amherst and worked as a janitor at UMass the first year Debbie attended Smith. We got together a few times. She showed me around the school.What I remember most, was her telling me of a woman who left an apple legacy for the students at Smith. What that meant was every student was to get an apple a day if they attended the school.

For me — that was the coolest legacy. What a fine thing to leave for others.

I heard the news of Debbie’s death yesterday. Fucking cancer.

I didn’t realize it until yesterday, but I still think of Debbie and that legacy when I eat apples, and I eat them most days.

I’m glad I knew you Debbie. Salute.

I moved to the small town of Grove, Oklahoma in 1977. I was married to a man named George at the time. We had just moved from the DC area where George was a Captain in the Army.

I can say — my life was different from how it is now. Really, really different.

The best part of this move, was my good fortune of needing to go to the local laundry mat.

I was loading up the machine, and noticed woman my age, wrapping up her weekly laundry chore. She started the conversation.

“Are you new here?”
“Yup, just moved in a couple of days ago.”
“Do you have kids?”
“No.”
“Do you smoke pot?”
“Yes.”
“My name is Sandie.”
“I”m Jan.”
“What would you had said if I had answered differently?”
“I would have just left – I have too many friends with children and not enough that get high, why don’t you come by sometime.”

She folded her laundry and left.

I finished up my laundry and drove to her house.

We’ve been best friends for 40 years now.

I’m a lucky girl!

My best girlfriend and her husband are here for a visit.
What that means is… the house is full of extra love and laughter now.

I’ll post a story another day.

If you are on our Christmas gift list — the chances are pretty good you’ve received a Sunshine Coast calendar. Becky Wayte is the photographer, and I’ve been a fan of her work since I first saw her work on Facebook.

I’ve often wondered what it would be like to follow her around in a day, not in a stalky weirdo way, but in a super curious, watch her work, and could I keep up with her way.

It seems to me, that she is up taking a photo of the sunrise most mornings, then throughout the day she will post a photo of a bear, bird, flower, or tree from some hike she is on. And before calling it a night, there will be an incredible photo of the sunset posted. (Plus, I know she also has a job at the college here!)

If you are on Facebook – follow Sunshine Coast Trails. Her work is lovely.

So, anyway – Becky took a workshop on portrait photography in Nova Scotia recently. She mentioned she was looking for volunteers to practice on. Seeing my chance to get to know her better, I offered to sit.

Ken and I had out portrait taken once before a few years ago. I have to say it was a bit of an ordeal. Furniture was moved, lights were lit, there were screens, and cords. The setup was complex and then it felt like there was hours of fussing, hundred of photos taken, with me sitting on a stool, wondering if my smile was crooked or hair under control. The end result was nice — but the process was a bit much.

So, it was an absolute delight when Becky showed up yesterday with camera in hand, looked around the house, set me down in a chair, and took my picture.

Sure there was some fussing. The light from the window made my purple frame glasses give a reflection she didn’t like on my face, and could we please take down some of the art on the wall to have a clear background — no problem.

I took her direction,  my glasses came off, then on. She said, turn your head this way, lower your chin, look at me with intent, and snap.

I don’t think Becky was here a full hour. She took maybe 20 pictures of me. Then before she left, she asked Ken if he wanted his picture taken too. Ken changed his shirt, sat at the table and click, click — done and done.

The end result – Amazing!

Becky caught us. The photo of Ken is pure Ken. And, while I admit, it is hard to look at a photo of myself without some form of judgement, I feel I must write a book now. I’ve the perfect photo for a jacket cover!

The sign of an expert in any field, is in their ability to make hard work appear easy. Becky did just that.

I salute!