The News From the Beach
I have read that when you walk the dogs and they do all that stopping and sniffing it is their way of reading the news. The dogs and I (we still have the grand dog Annie, the honeymooners return to pick her up this weekend) have been walking down the beach and up and over Cemetery Hill to town every day where I hole up above the lumberyard and work on that book. (I really hope I'll meet the August 1 deadline. The only hope I have is to leave the house, otherwise I just can't stay indoors.) I love the new commute, though. The dogs aren't the only ones who get their news on our walk. There's a lot going on in the neighborhood. One neighbor's puppy, Cookie, can swim and her mistress is so busy at the summer youth theater conservatory that they couldn't play with us very long because she had to get to rehearsal for this weekend's production of the story of Aladdin's magic lamp. "I'm Jasmine," she told me."It's a big part so I have a lot of practicing to do." The show is Friday and Saturday night in the Chilkat Center. Another neighbor, also walking her dog, commented on the weather. We agreed these glorious days are starting to feel surreal, like maybe we have rubbed that magic lamp and gotten our wish. "It's like we've had ten summers in one," she said. Dolly the Lab was walking her master, Johnny, who was taking a break from his work at the boat shop. He said he's trying to wind down some these days, to enjoy the summer more, and has quit fiber glassing-- "it's tough on the lungs." We walked on, with one abrupt halt. The dogs and I agreed that the beaten path through the shoulder high grass and across the now dry creek to the beach was made by a bear, and they rolled in what was left of a salmon carcass one may have dropped there, but I stopped them before they smeared bear scat on their lovely fur necks. They were safely on leashes when we bumped into Lauren walking down the hill as we were climbing up. She is about to double her grandchildren, from two to four, both sons are expecting-- one a boy (which would make three little boys) and one a girl. I told her our fourth is another girl, so it's all girls for us. Which got me thinking about abundance. There's so much right now in this little corner of the world it borders on being ostentatious to share it with you. Just this morning I wrapped some fresh halibut for the freezer my son-in-law gave us last night (he's in from the fishing grounds for a few days) and picked a whole bowl of strawberries, two zucchinis, and found three large brown eggs in the coop.
Here's a little slide summer slide show. Ten summers in one indeed. I hope it lasts until September. This is better than Mexico.