Welcoming Another Boston Fan

I wanted to welcome my newest nephew, Older Brother Version 2.1, to the world to the world this morning. Little booger pulled it off and made himself an April Fool's baby.

Here's to much joy, little one, and lotsa love from your crazy uncle and aunt up in the wilds of Alaska!

Happy Winter Solstice 2013

Like the seeds dreaming beneath the snow your heart dreams of spring. - Kahlil Gibran. Source: The Prophet: 26 poetic essays, Pages: 80 (On Death)

Alaskan Solstice

Midnight, Summer Solstice 1992

Hasselborg Lake, Admiralty Island

Photo Credit: Yours Truly

I sit upon the porch of the gods
To stare through Heaven's door.
Into the sky of what's to be
And the reflections of what has been.
My feet have now tread upon trails now past
And the world lays open in beckoning dreams.

The sun now sets on but one day
To rise eternal for ever more;
Like the hopes of a child young,
Whose eyes awaken for the first time
To gaze upon expectant wonders
Of a world thrown open in beckoning dreams.
-Pádraig E' Muirgheasa

Bruin Necessities: the Ju-Ju Coda

S'okay, I made a big deal about the 3rdGuinness  ju-ju recommended by the waitress who thought the 3rd Guinness would do the trick, was fanatical Bs & Pats fan, and had just moved to Juneau less than 2 weeks ago...

Yeah, it's big ju-ju to a superstitious nut like me.

Right now, I'm sitting outside Tulip's place of work, waiting for her shift to finish, and thinking about even bigger ju-ju.

You see, I haven't owned a Bs team hat in long while. Pats and Sox, yes, Bs, no. As soon as they made the Cup, she looked at me and said that I needed a team hat and proceeded to order one for me. 

It got here yesterday. Big ju-ju, indeed.

Thankee Tulip!

Bruin Necessities: Dunking Penguins in That Dirty Water!

Woo-Hoo! 4 and 0, Baby, and we're on to the Cup!

Got to listen to the 3rd period on my walk home from work (remember, we're 4 hours behind the East Coast up here), hooting and hollering the whole way. Loved hearing the hearing the fans through 98.5 Sports Hub's live feed and, yes, this song cranked to full-bore in on the sound system:

And, let's just not forget the old theme song. Makes me think of sneaking out of bed to peak around Dad's recliner as the games would start on old Channel 38:

Lotsa good #4 action in that blast from the past.

Elizabeth Gilbert on Elusive Creative Genius

Tulip had forwarded me this excellent Ted Talk from Melissa Gilbert, the author of Eat, Pray, Love. Although I didn't necessarily care for the book, I can readily identify and agree with much of what she says about the creative process and how maybe it is some sort of touch upon the divine.





Having always felt  that I was channeling while writing fiction, I seriously identified with the part where she discusses the poet who would feel inspiration come on like an animal storming across the countryside and she'd be frantically trying to get to pencil and paper on time to catch it. Too often, the ideas come storming along and are gone before they can be recorded.

Welcome to the World, Little One!

Just got the word that Fishing Buddy 2.3 was born at 6:41 am, AST, this morning! Congratulations, guys!

Mom, baby, and Fishing Buddy 1.0 are doing well.

Looks like we'll need a bigger boat in a couple of years! :)

And, Sometimes...

And, sometimes the moment of beauty just makes you wanna hurl.

Grumpy day, with a lot of negative thoughts about the job and all the like. The weather went shitty again. Been having one of those spells where it seems like I'm breaking everything I touch. Had lots of fun trying to update my side business's website after Yahoo switched over to FTPS and my old FTP software wouldn't support it.

Blah-blah-blah.Yeah, I know. Tell us about something we all don't already suffer...

Was driving out to pick-up Fishing Buddy for the last night of rimfire pistol league and it had stopped snowing and the sun had come out. Was on Egan drive, heading from town out to the Valley and watching the early evening start to fade towards twilight as I approached Sunny Point. The last of the sun was reflecting off the fresh snow out on the flats at the north end of Gastineau Channel. Could see the snow-topped Chilkat Mountains off in the distance and the calm air was giving way to a light mist rising off the flats.

It was so beautiful!

It was one of those pure moments of beauty that I like to write about.

I was thinking how nice it would be to pull over and watch for a while. I was wishing I'd remembered to bring my camera along—it would've made for a great post. I was remembering just why I'd moved up here and how good life could be! :)

I took a deep, cleansing breath; hoping to calm my nerves and proverbially step-back and pause and enjoy.

I took a deep, cleansing breath.

And gagged on the smell of rotted hotdogs emanating from the landfill and just about swerved off the icy highway as my stomach heaved.

Some days the moment of beauty feels like it's nothing more than the fact that one of the propane burners has gone down again. :(

Oh well.

Yeah, I'm Sappy for This Stuff!

This has been making the internet rounds for a couple of weeks, now. I'd originally intended to post it back then; however, I thought it might be a little more appropriate as a celebration of today.

From me and my sweetie to you and yours:

Happy Valentines Day!

Having a Bad Day?

Well, it's nothing compared to the day Boogie, the Quaker Parrot* is having.

Let's let him tell you about it himself!

You've obviously got nuthin.

*Full disclosure: I have a soft spot for these little green dragons, having shared my life with one for more than 15 years!

Unexpected Moments of Beauty

It's time to pause again for a bit...

I've written of my thoughts on moments of beauty in the past:

Moments of pure beauty: pausing to freeze a specific point amidst the hubbub, chaos, confusion, and difficult feelings of our lives and recognize the pure joy, the pure wonder and magic of our living experience. Pausing to savor and appreciate such a moment sloughs away the compounding antagonisms and we can immerse ourselves into coming back to feeling the natural breath of life. We can come back to existing within that gift of being fully present with and appreciating our lives.

Sometimes moments of beauty are not truly "beautiful" as fits the definition but, instead, come as a swift and hard knock side the head that knocks us back into the present moments of our lives.

This actually happened a while back and I'd intended to write of it back then, Unfortunately a monster decided to wreak its mayhem in Connecticut and I lost all other senses of the moment.

I was walking the Weewolfe early one Saturday evening over at one of the local gravel pits while waiting for Tulip to finish-up her late afternoon shift. Our dog's a rescue and can be somewhat fear-aggressive at times. This place over in back of a couple of big-box stores is one of the few areas where we find sufficient solitude to be able to let her off leash to run as a border collie should with little worry.

Walking through the solitude, the cold twilight, and fresh snow, this was definitely not the walk it could have been and my thoughts were racing over several depressing things—stupid things, really—that had occurred over the week. My mood was as dark as the low-lying clouds and as equally oppressive.

I stomped down off the ridge behind the pit, my mood intensifying the entire way and losing myself further into that morass. The Weewolfe raced around ahead of me, a happy black blur against the snow and totally oblivious to the darkness in me.

Jaw clenching, teeth grinding, thoughts roiling, fists clenching in pockets, feet stomping, stomp-stomp-stomp-whump!

Feet no longer stomping, the ice lying under the powdery snow sent them straight out and the rest of me flat on my back before I could even pull my hands free from my jacket pockets. With the wind knocked out of me, I heard and felt the ice cracking under my back and I really hoped I hadn't gone down on the big puddle that I'd noticed had been building-up in weeks past, before the freeze-up.

The ice didn't crack enough to dunk me and I dazedly stared up at the ceiling of clouds...

...and at the hole that had opened-up above me with stars twinkling in the deep twilight as a cold nose hurriedly pressed itself to the side of my face, a warm tongue lapped at me, and 37 pounds of worried border collie pressed herself next to me.

The week no longer seemed so bad when rejoicing in that beautiful here and now.

Late Night Thoughts: Why Blog? Why Write?

The Weewolfe had needed to go out. Unfortunately, it was right at what I usually consider bedtime and it turns out, she just wanted one last chance to romp in the fresh snow. No problems there, other than I came back to a house that felt too warm and couldn't sleep.

Wound-up reading some of the last posts available out there on my favorite blogs and doing a little research on handloads for .38 Special/.357.

As I perused several sites, blogs, and forums, this also got me thinking about that urge to write and the driving force to place so much time and energy into something that has a high likelihood of only being read by a few.

In the past, I've put such efforts into writing fiction [shameless self-promotion here or, for anachronists such as myself, here]. Focusing one's self into the dedication of time and thought to produce a 350-plus page book with limited readership should seem like the end-all of banging a creative head on the brick wall of futility and has certainly felt daunting at times.

So, you may ask, why go through this night-after-night, collecting thoughts and/or sharing online things that have impacted me over the course of a day—especially, when it's so easy to bank such strong expectations on only hearing the proverbial chirping of crickets?

Well, this verse from Anna Nalick's "Breathe (2 AM)" easily comes to mind:

2 AM and I'm still awake, writing a song
If I get it all down on paper, it's no longer inside of me,
Threatening the life it belongs to
And I feel like I'm naked in front of the crowd
Cause these words are my diary, screaming out loud
And I know that you'll use them, however you want to

This blog has been something I've wanted to do for a long time and finally found the overwhelming initiative to undertake after the 2012 elections. This is my chance to take all those thoughts, hopes, fears, sarcasm, and ire seething round the gray matter and bleed it off to see who may share similar thoughts or even open-up good discussions.

Although I may be more blunt and emphatic than in my everyday life, anything that I do say here I will not shirk from saying to anyone in person.

Initially, I'd hoped to focus more on general politics and sports and hunting and fishing; however, the events of December 14, 2012, and the looming backlash against gun owners has rather hijacked a lot of my focus. I am, afterall, a "Cold, Dead Fingers Second Amendmentist"—a key reason I moved away from Massachusetts and family after completing college—and, lately, this is my soapbox from which I will not go down quietly in defense of our constitutional rights. All of them.

I will not leave myself broken-souled for a lack of trying.

This is but one of many avenues down which I can strive to be seen, be heard, and stand firm.

This is my soapbox to get those thoughts outside of me and allow you, dear and precious reader, that opportunity to take them however you may want to.

Thanks for your ear!

Happy Solstice (Just In Case the Mayan Apocalypse Didn't Get You)!

One may not reach the dawn save by the path of the night. - Kahlil Gibran. Source: Sand and Foam (The Kahlil Gibran Pocket Library), Pages: 8

Like the seeds dreaming beneath the snow your heart dreams of spring. - Kahlil Gibran. Source: The Prophet: 26 poetic essays, Pages: 80 (On Death)

Pausing: Love x3

This post is to pause and come back to the breath; to step away and be in the moment and try to be open to something beautiful amidst such an evil day. Perhaps, the best that can be done for now is to step back and allow the magic of a song to be summoned.

Tulip introduced me to the music of Christine Kane, whom I believe she discovered through Sark's website. She's among the few musicians that I feel are actually better in live performance than studio album (I'm listening to the live version of the song below as I work on this post).

This one is among my all time favorites:

If'n you're interested, the words are as beautiful as the music (at least to these partially deaf ears, which have done their best to transcribe them here):

Let out a long sigh under a low sky, I'm coming home to you.
I'm feeling nervous. I'm always nervous. I'm always passing through.
Noise all around me sounds like graffiti in this broken land.
Where we tell you what we will sell you and we will shake your hand.
Ten-thousand times I've wondered aloud why we don't die of fear.

And, I dream, now, to wake-up all the love inside of me; times three.
And, I see how the light alone is all we need to be, yeah.

I am the big love; the magic wand of the one who hung the moon.
And, I am the camera. I am the paint brush and I'm down in the deepest gloom.
Oh, I want a kingdom. I want a ride home. I want a big, wide room.

And, I dream, now, to wake-up all the love inside of me; times three.
And, I see how the light alone is all we need to be.
Aren't we?
The wars are behind us, the marks are erased.
The danger is over, the altar's in place.
The damage is likely to leave when embraced by these tears.

Maybe we're crazy? I think we're lonely and I think we're wide awake.
What is your passion? Where is your dungeon? What was your worst mistake?
Or, will you make your days replay your dreams?
Hoh-uh-huh-hoh, in dreams...
Yeah-ee-yeah, in dreams...

At first glance it could be interpreted as coming back to a partner and engaging in a reconciliatory conversation after a long and painful separation.

Looking again, the conversation is with one's self.

In the Buddhist tradition, the path towards becoming a bodhisattva involves nurturing maitri—loving kindness—which Pema Chodron describes in her book Comfortable With Uncertainty (#5, Loving Kindness: The Essential Practice) as:

In cultivating loving kindness, we learn first to be honest, loving, and compassionate towards ourselves. Rather than nurturing self-denigration, we begin to cultivate a clear-seeing kindness.

Perhaps, the best way to leave this post off is with an encore?

Moments of Beauty

I was walking Weewolfe, the wonder collie, the other evening and caught myself pondering the many moments of pure beauty available to us should we just open ourselves to their possibility. I'm probably indulging an old cliche; however, it seemed a good opportunity introduce an ongoing series providing respite from much of what else I intend to post...

Moments of pure beauty: pausing to freeze a specific point amidst the hubbub, chaos, confusion, and difficult feelings of our lives and recognize the pure joy, the pure wonder and magic of our living experience. Pausing to savor and appreciate such a moment sloughs away the compounding antagonisms and we can immerse ourselves into coming back to feeling the natural breath of life. We can come back to existing within that gift of being fully present with and appreciating our lives.

For me it sometimes feels that the complexity of the given moment varies inversely to the extent of chaos in my life. My brain swirling with all the trappings of adult life--of course: the pending bills, that project at work, or the fact that the freaking squeal from the truck's brakes is back--I am stopped dead in my tracks to wonder at the perfect crystals of hoar frost encrusting a clump of winter's dead grass...

















I am dazzled by its jewelry and no longer lost to the more detracting aspects of life or sadly resigned to the coming cold and darkness of winter.

The moment can be pausing to re-appreciate the company of a companion, even though you may have recently had a spat...

[Note: don't let the dog tell you otherwise, I only rolled in that road-killed porcupine for a moment. Not enough to really get myself stinky or anything.]

As darkness continues to descend, I pause to wonder about that bend in the road and the noises just out of sight...

Appreciating the uncertainty of what lies beyond, as opposed to fearing the bear that just might be there...

Opening myself to the beauty of these moments, I can savor the quiet of the evening, the feel of light snow just beginning to fall, the cold bite to my nose and cheeks, and the crunch of frozen gravel under my shoes. I can smile and find a stillness within myself that matches that of the evening.