Life without.....

It is amazing what can bring life to a screeching halt.  And it never seems to be the big things in life, most often it is the little things that we take for granted.  Point being . . . my internet went down for a week.  I never thought I would ever say that I am dependent on something, but I guess I am.  Being rather technology/computer impaired, I have to call for HELP!  So I called the internet company.  After thoroughly explaining to them that showing up to fix it in a week was completely unacceptable, they showed up in a week anyway.  So for a week, I couldn't play cards (a disaster), couldn't e-mail (how would I ever communicate), couldn't do business or banking, couldn't look things up (remember encyclopedias?), there was no Netflix (because there is nothing on regular TV to watch), no wi-fi radio, no Facebook (not a great loss), no working from home on my business, no blogging, no printing documents (printer is wi-fi connected) . . . in other words, life came to a halt.  Not really, but all those things we do from minute to minute, were gone.  How did we ever survive the pre-computer age?

Well, let's see.  How did we survive?  I wrote letters.  In fact I still have some that were written over 50 years ago by friends now long gone.  Or I walked to the telephone booth to make a call.  Yes, one of those funny little boxes on the corner that required lots of change if you intended to talk very long.  I went to the movies for less than a dollar.  I sometimes typed on a typewriter, but more often than not, I wrote by hand.  Printing was called a carbon copy.  And we thought we were really "up town" to have such conveniences at the time.

I am sure, in another 20 to 50 years, all that I enjoy now will fall into the category of the vintage telephone booth.  At the rate technology is advancing, I won't have to move to do anything.  As it is, I can talk to my remote and it will do any number of things so I don't have to get out of my chair.  Will we forget how to care for ourselves, will we forgo our independence, will our brain power decrease as we become dependent on machines to do our bidding?  Look at the things already lost.  Penmanship is gone, basic math skills are gone, why bother when you can type or use a calculator.  Sadly, communication is gone as I knew it.  Now it is done on Facebook or texts, people rarely ever talk face to face.  Do I do those things, absolutely.  But nothing beats an old fashioned gab fest between friends, or picking the brain of someone who has more skills than I do.  You-tube is handy but sometimes one-on-one lessons are better.

Would I go back to that time of such "inconvenience"?  Sometimes.  It was easier, slower, filled with things that I know and understand.  I think mostly it was filled with youthful exuberance, hope, expectation, and life in general.  People interacted, encouraged, taught, and helped each other.  Now I just have to "Google it" to find out things, and I while I appreciate the convenience, I sometimes miss the interaction of others.

You would think, being a total introvert, I would thrive on this electronic age.  And, in some ways, I do.  But for an introvert, it can also be dangerous place.  If you are not inclined to be a naturally social creature and are not "forced" to interact with people through work or other outlets, it can be a lonely and scary place to find yourself.  I wonder if so many suicides have to do with our loss of human interaction.  I know some are the result of cyber actions that can hurt and cause incredible damage.  And the "bully" never sees the effect of his elecrronic actions.  We live lives with little or no responsibility.

I have meandered way outside my intent when I began this article.  But it must all have been stuck in my craw somewhere to come flowing forth.  Let's enjoy our conveniences but let's also enjoy each other.  Listen, watch, speak, interact.  People were created to need others.  And an electronic device just won't be there when you really need someone.

Just Writin' on the River Road

The Final Chapter

This winds up the trip of a lifetime by two young girls who spent nearly six weeks touring Alaska and parts of Canada.  I wonder what kind of an impact it had on their lives.

This little piece of history will be for sale at the Calico Cupboard, Glenns Ferry, Idaho.


Tuesday, July 18  Got up at 7:30, got on deck in time to see a fishing boat scrubbing up after unloading their fish where we were docked.  Sailed.  M and I spent the morning on deck.  Got to Sitka after lunch.  Had trouble docking.  No one wanted us. Docked at the Standard Oil dock blocking up a little harbor.  An airplane wanted out and he and our Capitan had words.  Finally let him out.  M and I crawled sow a gangplank then proceeded to walk in circles to get no where.  Went to see a fish cannery but it had stopped.  Walked around dusty streets getting no where until we finally hit the road out to Totem Pole Park.  Stopped to see the Russian church but they're worse than the Methodists.  They charged a collection before you even got in.  We skipped that.  Totem Pole Park is very lovely.  We met the doctor and his wife holding hands in Lover's lane.  Lovely shaded paths now and then giving glimpses of the sea with totem poles here and there.  Got back to the ship about 3:30.  Ate dinner then I went picture shopping.  Sailed at 8.  M and I went to bed soon after.

Wednesday, July 19.  Thought we got up at 8:30 but found we should have se our clocks ahead an hour las night so it was really 9:30.  The steward was very shocked.  Went on deck for the morning.  We sat in the (the boat did) in the middle of the passage waiting for the tide to get into Petersburg.  Arrived just after lunch for a half hour.  Rushed to see a fish cannery.  Saw them sorting the fish but we didn't' have time to see the whole cannery.  Slept all afternoon.  After dinner got off to see Wrangle.  Saw war canoe, etc.  Got a garnet.  We get to Ketchikan about 2.  Will see if we can stay awake.

4 AM.  Just back from doing Ketchikan.  After midnight lunch went to observation room and danced.  I did the shottish with Mr. Gates. fun.  At 12 the orchestra stopped.  People wanted to keep dancing but all records, piano, etc.  Were locked up so we all sang, then they turned out all the lights on us but we still sang.  Then they blinked the lights but we still sang.  At 1 the man came up to clean up the room for tomorrow so we adjourned to the galley where raided the kitchen.  The Captain came down and was surprised to see the group but was jolly.  Arrived in Ketchikan  at 2.  Walked downtown and got back about 4.  It is 4:30 now and daylight.  Another day has dawned.

Thursday, July 20.  Got up at 12 noon, dressed just in time for lunch.  After lunch start to hunt up costumes for the costume ball.  M. went as a Spanish gentleman.  Captains dinner was tonight too.  We had balloons and paper hats and turkey.  Very good Captain's dinner.  At 8:45 the grand march started, we paraded around the ship then went to the observation room.  After judging of costumes, we had midnight lunch.  Then we danced.  Now to bed at about 12.

Friday, July 21.  Got up about 8:30.  Went on deck, beautiful sunny day.  Saved ourselves until lunch.  After lunch we again went on deck and stayed until about4.  Then we came down to do some packing.  After dinner we napped then got ready for Vancouver.  Docked about 9:30.  Then went with Mrs. Young to see the town.  Got back about 11:30.  We were given slips to get on and of this by the immigration official.  Should dock in Seattle tomorrow about 7.

Saturday, July 22  No more entries.

Just Writin' on the River Road

A Mother's Hands

Every time I do certain things, like petting the cat or peeling vegetables, I see my mother's hands.  It is a strange feeling that I haven't really come to terms with yet.  Do I want to be like her or not?  Do I want to accept my age, probably not. Some how this whole "hand" thing
bothers me and I am not quite sure why.

Am I reminded of her last few years when those fingers were feeble and unable to do the things we all take for granted, like buttoning up her shirt?  Her hands fluttered because she wanted to do things that weren't as easy as they had once been.  Perhaps I am beginning to see that in myself and I don't much like it.

Her hands were weathered from years of hard physical work.  She lived without the things I take for granted today.  Washing clothes was an all day affair of heating water on a wood stove, washing things by hand, hanging it on the clothes line in good weather or bad.  It was carrying wood and water into the house and out again.  She gardened and canned everything, including venison and 100 chickens every year.  Those things were all boiled for hours on a wood stove in the scalding heat of summer to preserve them.

I remember those hands cracked and bleeding from being in water and then outdoors in the dead of winter.  She would put grease on them and wear gloves to bed at night to encourage healing.  Those hands mended our clothes on a treadle sewing machine, they washed diapers by hand, they cooked our food on a wood stove, they never had time for anything relaxing or fun.  It wasn't until she was into her 70's that she began to read again.  There was never time for that before.

So when I see my hands and find them similar to her's, there is no comparison to the things they have done.  We take so many things for granted through life, but our hands are truly a remarkable piece of equipment.  They can soothe our hurts, create lovely, intricate art, caress a loved one.  In and of themselves, they are a true work of art.

So what bothers me about seeing my mother in myself?  I am not sure.  Perhaps it is the age thing.  Maybe it is the inability to do the things I used to do, or possibly I just don't want to end up as she did.  I do know that I yearn to do so many things in the autumn of my life...…..to begin a bucket list.  To fulfill a bucket list.  I don't want to just let life happen anymore.  I want to take it by the horns and go out in a blaze of glory!  Or at least give it a shot until my fire burns out.  Young people don't understand that your need for "living", having experiences, or adventure doesn't die just because your body ages.  One just has to get a little more creative to accomplish some of those things.

A "older" couple came in the store the other day.  She carried oxygen and it was apparent she had a difficult time breathing.  But they were out and about doing things.  As they left, they each got on their big, shiny Spyder motorcycles and drove off.  Yes!  I say go for it.  Who says we have to drive a outdated sedan in our "golden" years!  They were living their dream.

Someone posed a question to me the other night.  Do we ever see our parents as anything but "parents"?  Do we see their desires, their dreams, their hurts, their passions.  I have to admit that I never considered those things with my parents.  They were just there.  Mine was a different generation where you were not "friends" with your parents.  I think some of that has changed but not all.  Do me a favor.  Ask your Mom or Dad about their dreams.  Ask them how they feel about things.  And listen to their answer.  You might be surprised that they feel pretty much the same as you about most things.

Just Writin' on the River Road

A little romance on the frontier?

Saturday, July 15  Got up about 11, went shopping, got some pictures.  Then took a walk over Skagway Bridge to Pirate Cove and then out to a point.  On our way we met a young man, Joe, and he came along.  He was very nice and made the walk most entertaining.  I like him.  He had blue eyes, light hair and a mustache - tall and athletic.  He helped check in the freight when the boat docked.  He liked walking and hiking.  Got home about 4:30.  Went to see the Yukon come in and the Prince George go out.  Came back and M treated me to a big dinner at the hotel.  Then took a walk to the boat with Didi.  Met Johnny down there and talked in the observation room while they came home.  We had banana ice cream cones.  Talked in the lobby a while then went to bed.

Sunday, July 16  Got up about 9. dressed and packed, checked out about 10.  Fooled around the hotel lobby.  Couldn't go on a hike because it was raining.  Ate at a café then played the piano for a while in the lobby.  Then about 3:30 got a taxi to take over our bags.  Went on board the ship.  I was sleepy so went to our room to sleep.  M stayed on deck and got our table settings, table K.  Seems nice.  Three teachers who are jolly, a doctor and his wife (doctor is very dark and handsome and as all doctors, easy conversationalist), so we are well off.  After dinner watched the boat leave the dock about 7.  Stayed on deck to enjoy the scenery and played deck tennis.  Stayed on deck until about 10:30 then went and had a midnight lunch.  I am in the habit now from the river boats.  Then went up to the observation room, danced some and talked.  The doctor joined M and I about 11:30 and we chatted until 12 when things were over.  M and I went on deck again.  Beautiful, the sharp, rugged mountains silhouetted against the clouded sky with now and then stars peeking through - was lovely.  We could hear the swish of the water churned by the propellers of the ship.  Now to bed at 12:30.  We get to Juneau at 7 this morning.

Fish cannery

Monday, July 17  Got up about 6:30.  Walked around Juneau.  Came back and had breakfast at 9.  Played shuffle board and sat on deck til noon.  After lunch we got to Hawkins Inlet.  I went ashore - M didn't.  Wild berries grow in abundance - blueberries and loganberries, the last not ripe yet.  Mr. Shedd took me through a cannery.  It wasn't running but you could see all the machinery.  Next we stopped Hula, another cannery where we again loaded canned salmon.  This was about 7, after dinner.  Played shuffle board until about 10, then went to the midnight lunch.  To bed about 11.  Had a fire drill this morning.  the fire hose got away from its keeper and M and I got a shower bath.  Bet I'm lame tomorrow from shuffle board.  Played three games against two college boys and M and I beat each time.

Just Writin' on the River Road

Life and then some

I am thinking that you will find this article very "off key" for me.  Perhaps even depressing.  And I admit to being in a "funk" from time to time.  So maybe I am just being "funky"?

A line from Walden by Henry David Thoreau has been running through my head of late.  Maybe I feel it more now because of my situation, but I don't think it is just me.  Thoreau said "The mass of men lead lives of quiet desperation. . .".  There is more to the quote but I will address that later.

I had a pastor once who emphasized being "real" to other people in our lives.  I was struck by that but at the same time realized that most "other" people don't really want to hear my problems.  That used to make me feel bad until I discovered that we all lead lives of "quiet desperation".  I have no idea what is going on in your life, in your mind......I tend to judge by what is available to me on the surface.  When you tell me you are "fine", then I have grave concerns when you do something that isn't "fine".  I have decided that we all live hidden lives deep within ourselves.  It is there that we hide our hurt, pain, frustration, anger, insecurity, fear and a multitude of other emotions and memories.  All those hidden things that can overwhelm us and sometimes cause us to over react, to do dumb things, to even hurt ourselves or others.

I can't speak for others, but from observation, I think we are all in the same boat.  Some days we float pretty well, other days we bail like crazy to keep afloat, and sometimes we let the boat sink.  We run to avoid our situation, or we hide, or we chose to ignore it . . . but it is always there.  Some are wise enough to face life head on, deal with "stuff" and move on.  Others hang on to it . . . in some strange way, we find comfort in what we "know", even if it hurts.  The unknown is more frightening than the pain and frustration with which we are well acquainted.  It seems a shame to be held hostage by our own demons.

All that being said, what do we do?  The rest of the quote is "and go to the grave with the song still in them."  And while the first part is profound enough, this last part is even more profound.  Yes, we have to deal with the things that life hands us, but how do we do that?  I, personally, don't want to go to my grave with "the song" never sung.  And I truly believe that we are all created to sing that "song", to share it with others, to use it to change the world.  But if I live only in quiet desperation, my song will not come forth.  So, do I clutch my painful, prickly "security blanket", or do I cast it aside and venture forth into the unknown?  I can choose.  Choices can be scary.  Do I take this road or that path, do I try this thing or something else, do I trust or not?  Choices.  It always boils down to choices.

And faith.  What do I believe?  Who do I believe?  And while I don't struggle with my faith, there are those days when I begin to wonder if my choices adhere to that faith or vice versa.  God is constant.  I can be volatile. I thought that by this age I would have things figured out.  Not so.

I wish I had all the answers for you.  I struggle with my own turmoil.  But I am less judgmental now of your actions because I know under all that bravado, there is someone living in desperation that has no idea how to access their song, much less share it.  Let us all be kinder, gentler, more caring of others.  Because we have no idea what is really going on behind the scenes.  Let's encourage each other to become a choir that can make a difference to someone or to all.

Just Writin' on the River Road

Obsession

What is our obsession with "stuff"?  Or more specifically, other people's stuff?  We recently had a Yard Sale weekend in Glenns Ferry and it was amazing the number of people who showed up and bought "stuff".  And often it is stuff that I would throw away.

Why?  Are we looking for a bargain?  Or a treasure?  Or what?  I will have to admit after nearly 10 years of operating a thrift store, I am not nearly as enthusiastic about "stuff" as I used to be.  After picking through donations each week, your enthusiasm begins wane somewhat.  But there is still that insatiable curiosity about what might be in the next sack, the next box.  And on occasion, there is a real treasure.  Once we found diamond earrings, so you just never know.

We are planning an auction in August.  Another one of those venues that attract people who have an obsession with other people's stuff.  In this instance, I will be grateful for each and everyone of those individuals.  Personally, I have little patience for auctions.  I want to buy it and leave.  I am not a shopper.  Invite me to dinner, to a movie, to a ton of things......but not shopping.  I remember an uncle who would come home with boxes of "stuff" from auctions.  He had no idea what was inside the boxes, or if he needed it, but it was a "deal" so he bought it.  And then the family had to deal with all those treasures when it fell to them to dispose of it.  This is recycling at its peak.

I read on Facebook that we spend two thirds of our life collecting "stuff" and the last third of our life trying to get rid of it.  That was so close to the truth that it actually hurt.  Initially we moved every few years (or sometimes months) so we never collected too much.  Well, at first.  In the beginning everything we owned went in a 1964 Comet with an ironing board strapped on top.  Then we graduated to a pickup, then to a U-Haul.  With the inclusion of children in our lives, we moved on to moving companies. Now having been parked in one spot for fourteen years, we may have outlived moving vans.

So how does one begin to downsize.  I like my stuff.  I might actually use it someday.  Of course, that someday could be years off.  Some of it I really like and don't want to get rid of.  I really have no use for it, I just like it.  Some are family heirlooms, some are things I have made over the years, some are gifts I got from significant people.  They are meaningful, although not necessary or even useful.

It is a conundrum.  How much stuff do we need?  Can we live without it?  Probably.  Can it be replaced?  Maybe.  Bottom line - can I take it with me?  I expect not.  Will my kids want it?  Some, maybe.  So what do I do with it?  Pass it on to someone else who REALLY needs more stuff?  Haul it to the dump or otherwise dispose of it?  Like I said, it is a profound conundrum.  I am beginning to understand those who choose to die and leave it all to someone else.  Yep......when in a conundrum, take the easy way out.

Just Writin' on the River Road

On the way back

After trekking across Alaska and parts of Canada, it appears that the girls are on their way home.

Wednesday, July 12th
Got up about 8 and we docked at Carcross again about 8:30.  We had our baggage checked to Skagway then went over to hear Paty Henderson's lecture.  He was a boy when the Bananga strike was made in "90".  He was with the four men.  He showed his Indian traps, talked broken English.  Went to the fur farm.  Saw the fox and mink.  Fox were shedding and looked most homely.  Our train left at 10 - had a delightful trip.  Babies and young make interesting company.  Went along t

he shore of Lake Bennett.  Stopped there for lunch, M and I didn't go.  Cost a dollar and we lunched on some candy and spent the time climbing the hill to the old church and taking pictures.  The rest of the trip was wonderful.  High snow capped mountains and water falls.  We stopped first at the boundary between the U.S. and Canada, next at Inspiration Point where a monument is erected to the pack horses and where you can see the trace of the old Yukon Trail.  Went over the high bridge, up Dead Horse Gulch and stopped again at Pitch Fork Falls.  Walked up the trail beside them and took pictures.  U.S. customs inspectors came aboard at the train yards at Skagway and inspected hand luggage.  The train stopped right in front of the Golden North Hotel.  M and I got room 19 on the third floor - $2 a day apiece.  Really is two rooms.  One bed back away from the windows over looking the street and one by them.  I have the bed by the windows but feel sorry for the door thing - it is so tired and sagging.  Did the washing this afternoon and it is drying over the head and foot of my bed.  First time we have running water for many a day.  Had dinner at the hotel dining room.  The went to the Pullen House and heard Mrs. Pullen tell about her experiences - most interesting.  Back here at the hotel at 11.  Mrs. Pullen knew Soapy Smith when he drove a freight wagon.

Jefferson Randolph "Soapy" Smith II was a con artist and gangster of the old west.  He is buried in Skagway.
Thursday, July 13th.

Soapy Smith

Got up about 12.  Made an appointment for 3 to get my hair fixed and then went shopping.  About 2 we went down to look over the Princess Louse.  At 3 did our hair.  About 5 came back to the hotel.  At 6 went to down to see the Princess Louise off.  Mr. and Mrs. Coats, Miss Point, etc. went.  Went down to Pullen House for while, then ate, then back to the hotel and M did a washing.  Eleven now and will try to sleep if our next door neighbors who are talking and laughing and playing the phonograph allow it.

Friday, July 14th

Skagway street car circa 1939

Got up about 8, took a ride with Martin Tyler in the Skagway street car.  Most amusing and very instructive.  Went to the Blanchard Flower Gardens.  M and I both took pictures.  I used one roll of color film.  About 3 went around by the Pullen House to see if Mrs. Young wanted to biking to the lake.  Asked another lady too.  By the time it was 4 we had our party together and we all took lunches with us.  Had a splendid walk, very lovely.  Ate our lunch by the Lower Dewey Lake then Mrs. Young made a ball of a rock with paper around it and we played catch.  Got done about 8 and watched a ball game till 9.  Came back home and took a shower, then to bed.  There is a dance tonight, wish I could go.

Just Writin' on the River Road