I just booked an hour at the beauty salon for next week, so that I can gussie up some for my trip to London and the Olympics. (We leave the 19th for Virginia and then onto London on the 24th, to have a few days to acclimate before the opening ceremonies on the 27th, and then equestrian events, featuring our reason for going, my sister-in-law Karen O'Connor, begin the 28th.) The big news at our house today is that it turns out Karen is the oldest US Olympian. "Well, but how old is she?" Pam asked at Morning Muscles today. When I said "54" she was impressed.
I I just had to share these images of the Lynn Canal in all its glory, when the sun came out between the storms yesterday morning on my walk with Pearl to Battery Point.
At church on Sunday we sang the funeral hymns-- Amazing Grace, Love Divine all Loves Excelling - and Jan (our priest) gave a sermon based on the lesson-- sort of-- it was the one about Jesus not being a prophet in his hometown, just a carpenter and someones kid brother. But Jan always manages to bring her homilies around to love, and she did it again, noting that life is fragile, and deaths like Richard's remind us of that, and because we know life is tender and fleeting, she said, our response should be to love each other well, and since she is a Christian, to love God, too.
My last column for Woman's Day is in the July issue (that's why you can't find me in the August issue)-- I'm sorry to say. It's funny that I posted what I thought was the last one on facebook last week, but it wasn't-- I wrote the columns four months ahead, so it gets a little confusing. Also, blog readers will no doubt recognize this story, as parts of it were written here, first.
How nice was this to wake up to?
As W.S. Merwin writes in his poem Just Now:
In the morning as the storm begins to blow away
the clear sky appears for a moment and it seems to me
that there has been something simpler than I could ever
simpler than I could have begun to find words for
From Margert Craven's novel, I Heard the Owl Call My Name--
"But when I reach here, and see the great scar where the inlet side shows its bones, for a moment I know."
"What my lord?"
"That for me it has always been easier here where only fundamentals count, to learn what every man must learn in this world."
"And that, my lord?"
"Enough of the meaning of life to be ready to die."
The Boyce family has scheduled a memorial & potluck for Richard at the Ft. Seward Parade Grounds next Thursday (July 12) beginning at 4 PM. Bring a dish to share and a story to tell after the eulogy. They have scheduled the event after the weekly gillnet opening so the fleet could be here, so please pass the word on to your fishing friends before they leave. Randa Syzmanski is in charge of the potluck, so call her if you have questions.
Richard Boyce's friends and fellow fisherman Jim Syzmanski and his wife Randa aim to buy new inflatable suspenders for the rubber bib overalls of every fisherman in the Haines fleet. Jim told me yesterday at the cannery picnic that some good must come of Dick's death, and he is determined to make that so. To donate on-line click here, or you may mail a check to the Richard Boyce Inflatable Suspenders Memorial Fund, P.O. Box 418 Haines, AK. 99827.
There was a woman riding a recumbent bike down the road this morning at about 6 mile, and Chip slowed to talk with her just before fisherman Richard Boyce's place. Chip doesn't usually slow down, much less stop when we're riding, and he is never a big talker. I do that, but this morning I didn’t feel like it, especially there, where on mornings when he is not fishing, we often see Richard heading to town for coffee. That will never happen again. I wish I knew that the last time we waved or he timed us with his truck's speedometer.
Yes, I will blog again, but it may take a day or two until I can write more than a few lines. I am having some trouble with my computer. The battery and power cord aren't working properly. (I am at 20% right now.) Bad sign.