Don’t Hate me because I’m Beautiful.

Getting several emails per minute as my wordpress site faces down brute force hack attacks…

Serbia, Romania, Columbia, Mumbia India, Spain, Austria, muuuuaaaahhahhhahhahhahaaa…. I love it.

Czech Republic, Pakistan, Columbia, Algeria, Ukraine,Dubai, United Arab Emirates

Looks like it started at 6:43 am, with 3 per minute, it’s a bit faster now.

Kriva Palanka, Macedonia,Courbevoie, France,Caracas, Venezuela,Bayamón, Puerto Rico,Rhodes, Australia,Pyrgos, Greece,Moscow, Russia, hundreds more…

Baku, Azerbaijan,Pune, India, Calama, Chile,Srinagar, India, Tijuana, Mexico,Riyadh, Saudi Arabia, Muscat, Oman,Mississauga, Canada, Portugal, Bengaluru, India,Brijest, Croatia, Hadera, Israel,Trinidad and Tobago. Totalling 1,670 log in attempts.

aha, stopped the traffic at 3:36pm! thank you tech support. wordpress is still a little non profit, so… let me get this right.  computer generated log in hacker programs  can figure out passwords automatically but can’t do math?  that doesn’t seem real to me.


Live Through This

What a way to start the day. *note to self. Place emergency inhaler next to pc when reading the news.  Scrambling for my copy of The Beauty Myth and emergency only benzodiazepine.  At first it was like ok, provoking people may get them off their asses. Now it’s like ok, so that’s what’s wrong with America today,   Donald Trump.



Haven’t watched a beauty contest since I was like, 10. Isn’t it something when bald fat white men way past attractive judge young women who participate in beauty contests?  It’s like a grown man playing with dolls, but they aren’t toys. So disturbing on so many complicated levels. Who even watches beauty contests anymore?

You know what I think would be the most entertaining beauty pageant?  A drag show. Just lip syncing, costumes, make up and attitude catwalk. That would be delicious.  MS World.




Into The Black



He spoils me. Picked up a guitar and played out of the blue and transitioned into helpless, wasn’t even aware he did it.   Awesome, love the way he thinks.

*special guest in Seattle 2012… rocked Very hard.

Wonder if he would like these guys, don’t have a clue on the lyrics but it makes me smile… every time I listen to it.


Two Months Early…

I’ve never heard of this kind of Black Friday before.


Heard strange noises. Went outside to see the sky.   A hundred mourning doves were in the trees outside my bedroom window. The sound I heard was all of them landing in the trees. Pet the porch cat and softly said, Hello Kitty, while I was staring in amazement at the birds.  When they heard my voice they took flight, so many, what a visit.


(As a total aside, True story is that Stevie Nicks was listening to Little Red Corvette on the radio whilst she wrote Stand Back. She went 50/50 royalties with Prince because he played most of the music while they recorded it in the studio. They didn’t even sign a contract.)


Wow there is a story about them! They are a symbol of Peace and Love. Yeah. Well I suppose it did feel calm and magical and peaceful, although at first it was shocking.

Lincoln Totem Poles-Several

The Indians of the Canadian Northwest were especially energetic slavers. An estimated one quarter of the resident population among Pacific Northwest tribes were slaves; a proportion similar to the US South before the Civil War. When being taken over by the U.S. After the Alaska purchase meant freedom for their slaves, the Tlingit of Alaska crafted a totem pole with the figure of Abraham Lincoln at the top, to shame the government and demand compensation.






No Haitian revolution?  No Louisiana Purchase.  No Louisana Purchase? No Alaska Purchase. 

The New Laws (Spanish: Leyes Nuevas), also known as the New Laws of the Indies for the Good Treatment and Preservation of the Indians, were issued on November 20, 1542, by King Charles V of Spain and regard the Spanish colonization of the Americas. They were created to prevent the exploitation of the indigenous peoples of the Americas by the encomenderos (large enterprise landowners) by strictly limiting their power and dominion. Slavery of Black Africans was not abolished.  source: Wikipedia

the decree of Isabella I. of 1503, which stated, that no Indigenous may be put to slavery, except cannibals

Family Meeting, Viking Style

The new pet bunny is more than adorable. When the kids brought home the rats, I was cringing every few minutes until I made friends. The kids said, have to hold them every day or they go crazy, see ya later mom! Thought it would just be a phase but it has become a great thing.   (A thing- Old Norse, Old English and Icelandic: þing; Norwegian, Danish and Swedish: ting; German and Dutch: ding) At the thing, disputes are solved and family decisions are made.  

 Turns out rats are fun pets. They like to be clean and are very gentle little creatures by nature. They have been teaching the kids compassion, empathy and responsibility while I have developed tolerance. Now I have no problem letting them crawl in my clothes, hide in my hair, crawl up to my face, pull my lips back and taste my tongue. Gross huh? Well that’s how they check in with their people. They won’t go to the bathroom on us; they are actually very self-conscious about personal hygiene. They do have sight issues, blurry vision or they see in UV.

 Because the kids are awesome, so are the pets. They have a knack in taming them. Our rats are very friendly and miss us if we are away too long. Sometimes when I walk by they jump and cling to the walls of their cages and beg for attention and treats. All of the kids have clean rat cages that they tricked out like condos with hanging beds, nice views and toys and when possible, they love to sleep in boxes of fresh wheat grass from the produce section.

 What is so fun about the baby bunny is house training! It only took one or two days and it’s hysterical! Easy because the baby bunny is smart. Same level of personality as a cat, but it’s different, body language only. Very sassy body language, still, training the bunny was easier than my service dog. Bunnies are very energy sensitive. She’s the one training me. This one likes timothy hay and the parakeets bird seed. She’s happy and when she likes people she kisses them like a puppy. In love, happiest pet ever. It was sweet to have a puppy follow me around the house, but a baby bunny?  Now that’s funny. Guess we can say we have a thing about it.

Rocket test firings begin at JBLM, as tribe worries about noise

Army officials said they would stop the testing at Joint Base Lewis-McChord if any monitors register 130 decibels, a level that can cause harm to humans.

Source: Rocket test firings begin at JBLM, as tribe worries about noise


Yup, makes the house shake. Few weeks back had to call Century Link because just my wifi and stereo cut out, not all the power to the house.  They had to reset my router, remotely.

Native American Indian Monsters

Searching for Gunakadeit (Tlingit sea monster).  Not on this list.

Database of Native American monsters from various tribes.

Source: Native American Indian Monsters

But I did find something on a Zika monster.

Mosquito Man: Many tribes have legends about man-eating monsters that were turned into mosquitoes, thus continuing to feed on people but in a merely annoying way rather than deadly. The Northwest Coast tribes have some particularly gruesome variants where the original monster, Mosquito Man, thrusts his proboscis into a person’s head and sucks their brains out, often so surreptitiously that the people around him don’t even notice their companion is dead. Here is a typical Haida version of such a legend, in which a baby is being passed around at a party and Mosquito Man stealthily sucks its brains out before passing it to the next person, who is horrified to find the child brainless and dead.
Similarity to vampire legends: Preys on humans, drains bodily fluids

Coincidence detection in neurobiology – Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia

Coincidence detection in the context of neurobiology is a process by which a neuron or a neural circuit can encode information by detecting the occurrence of temporally close but spatially distributed input signals. Coincidence detectors influence neuronal information processing by reducing temporal jitter,[1] reducing spontaneous activity, and forming associations between separate neural events. This concept has led to a greater understanding of neural processes and the formation of computational maps in the brain.


Source: Coincidence detection in neurobiology – Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia

Walked into the kitchen scratching my head. Asked my husband what the sail number is on the boat, because today I’ve been thinking about sailing.  His jaw dropped when I showed him a certain number on some recent boat paperwork.  Um. A bit confused because they aren’t related, except that they both have my name of them. Same number, totally random.  Huh. Maybe it’s time for New Crew Gear Bags from repurposed main sails!




Ding Dong The Wicked Witch Is Dead

Kohler’s actions and activism show a conflicted soul; despite being born with a straight-up gold spoon in his mouth as a scion of Industry, Kohler spent thousands of hours rescuing cranes and swans and millions of dollars trying to save and protect the environment.

At the same time, he was in bed with the Koch Brothers and donated millions upon millions of dollars to elect conservative politicians bent on raping and destroying that same environment. He funded numerous programs dedicated to strengthening marriage and family, at the same time calling homosexual behavior “aberrant and immoral.”

He grew Windway (North Sails and other businesses) with great success and won almost every major big boat title in existence, but suffered humiliating failures in politics and was voted down from a position on the Wisconsin Board of Regents, never quite measuring up to his ex-governor progenitors. He was a private and quiet man who mostly shunned the limelight, even as he was known as the single most important power player in Wisconsin politics for decades. For his part in the rise of the Religious Right his nasty statements on homosexuality and the ugliness that goes along with those things…well, he was from another era, and we’ll all just hope his “Judge” is more lenient than some of the judges and politicians he supported for all those years. World famous Sailing Anarchy

Source: Sailing Anarchy

Dank As A Dickens Mom!

Is that good or bad, what does that mean?

That means, the kitchen smells good.

Kitcheree. It’s almost down to a science now. Do it a little different everytime.  Tonight it was with 1/3 sprouted mung, 1/3 brown rice, 1/3 lentils. Garlic, onions, turmeric, cumin, coriander, white pepper, 1 C fresh cilantro, coconut milk, grated parmesean.

(feeling so old right now.)

Comfort food makes me sleepy.

images-1 images unknown images-3 images-4images-2



What brought you to the island?


My first day was full of culture shock.  Such a culture fuck.  It was astounding.  Came over on the PO.  Having no idea it was the day of the GOP picnic at Tom Stewart’s compound, Misty Isle Farms.  No metro bus service and I was stuck on the dock and met this guy who was driving a tour bus to transport republicans to the compound.  He was on his lunch break so he drove me to the Mukai House.

On the highway we drove by a hippy circus, Isle Wild was in session and it was like Natalie Merchant’s video Carnival.  Big huge puppets like I haven’t seen since The Heart Of The Beast Theater in Minneapolis. How could these events be taking place side by side?  All the buses have to drive right by the hippies…

When I stepped off the bus at the Mukai House the owner threw her head back and laughed at me.  After seeing the house the guy had to drive back to the picnic, so I went along because he was taking guests back to the ferry.  I actually went to the picnic and found a five dollar bill on the grass and a lighter and I kept them, giggling.

Rode the bus back to the dock with Ellen Craswell-she probably had lunch with Dick Cheney- getting off the bus with this other little old lady.  She and I were walking down to the passenger waiting area and suddenly this helicopter was landing on the dock.  We held eachother and I tried to cover her head and face because the garbage cans had fallen over and let’s just say the shit had hit the fan.  They would not let us to the terminal or back to the bus.  It was all over a back pack someone had left on the dock.  It wasn’t a bomb and  after a while we were able to catch a boat off island.

This little old lady and I were heading the same way so we hung out and caught the bus to Seattle together.  She pulled out a package of hot cross buns that she made herself and gave them to me.  She said she used to live in the White House a long time ago.  She said she was JFK Jr’s nanny and I believed her.

What a rude question.  Don’t ask.  A question that even me and that little old lady didn’t ask.

There are many creepy stories about Tom Stewart on Vashon Island. How he bullied residents, studying financial records and tax info and property values before he would hunt for more and more property and water rights pouncing on anyone in his sight. My 411 came from the Sestrap’s when I worked for Betsy and Robert.  Stewart never did make good on his word about building a water treatment solution to run off problem from his cattle farm. The rumor is that he said, you’ll spend everydime fighting me on it.  They could have built it themselves at that price.  He was holding out to build a private golf course, leaving his neighbors with dirty water.  The Sestrap’s held on for as long as they could. Betsy said he came by weekly to have tea with her for years waiting for her to die. Back then we couldn’t drink the water and didn’t wash our hands with it.  Only once did I forget and rinsed my coffee mug.  I went home sick that day, terrible stomach pain.

Then there was the year the earth fair was held on Paradise Ridge, across the street from his gated ranch were he probably kept pet aliens and he actually attended earth fair.  Laughing at all the clean energy start ups. No one said a word when he died.

A resident told me that he wanted her property so approached her by saying, here I’ve already bought you a much nicer house, so sign here.  She said no, I’m not selling and I have other plans when I retire.  So what he did was force an easement through her property, built a road and changed his helicopters flight path, flying over her house twice a day.

The good old days

GOP donor admits campaign violations  

Thomas Stewart agrees to pay $5 million fine

Back then we had Slade Gordon as a senator.  Oh what a plan they had for the Oakanogan Highlands.  Think that whole thing was the end of his career. Maria Cantwell beat him and we haven’t had a republican senator since.

Back then, The Oakanogan’s had Buffalo Mazzetti and guess what? He’s back with another plan!


Mean Dave’s Diner

He was one of the first people I met when I got here.  Rented a room at the Mukai House when it was still a commune.  The first place I lived. The hippies had also taken over the old barreling plant and converted it into a thrift shop with a standing open mic on Wednesday nights.  There was a young woman living alone in a school bus. There was a one eyed horse, goats, chickens, 5 dogs,  a pottery barn. An old man out in the woods living in a tree house with a tribe of cats.

That old man used to be an archeologist, an old professor, he spent a long time with the aboringines. Maybe too much time. First of all his white beard was to his belly button in dreds and when we met I thought he was bat shit.  One night I went to the bathroom like at 4am. There was a big white plastic domed roof over the garden.  He was under it with a lantern swinging a machete and the lamp threw his shadow onto the ceiling of the that huge garden.  It was a long time before we talked about it.  He was only after the slugs that were after the basil.

Right after I arrived I became sick, so sick.  Sickest I’ve ever been in my life.  Fever, cough, stuffed up face, the air here is full of molds and mildews and that wet gloomy fog, especially in the room I rented, in the basement, that house is very old.  Tried to fight it, was sleeping on the couch and in my fever I heard the strangest noises.  On my feet and peeking out the window and there was that old man pacing under the window with his didge.  It was the first time I ever heard or seen anyone play that instrument, it made me pass out.  The next thing I knew I was back on couch and looking up, upside down at him and he was standing over me.  Just watching over me, but I was frightened.  I said to him, you had better stay back, it’s a fever, you don’t want to catch it old man.  Blinked and he had vanished.

Felt much better the next morning. Spent the day with ms christal the baker. When I went back to the house, I set up shop in the kitchen and made 7 blackberry pies with poppyseed crusts and gave them all away. That’s when I met Mean Dave.  He gave me a basket of island trinkets like a raven or something. An old school button from one of the first Strawberry Festivals that I could wear so I would fit in.  It was a decade before I met his ex wife. What a life.

It was only earlier this summer that someone shared with me the story of how he got his name.  Sure I’ve known about Thursday night poker down at his place for a long time.  It’s an adventure. Yes well that’s where it went down.  So this kid double skunked him at cribbage.  Ouch.  Mean Dave likes to think he’s too smart for that.  What he did was invite the kid back for a rematch.  He did the same exact thing, double skunked the kid but better by adding one point.

The kid stood up, pointed at him and and yelled:  You’re MEAN Dave!

And his wife?  She had 5 kids. Two sets of twins.  A wonderful musician she took me out to find the best nettles and walked me through her old cabin.  It was a rotten shed, two rooms and an out house and that’s how she lived for years.  Baby on her back, on her chest and three in a wheel barrel when she collected fire wood.  She’s now a nurse and the kids are all grown up.

They still play poker at Mean Dave’s on Thursday. That old man is still here. He’s lost some teeth, trimmed his beard back and sadly, can no longer play the didge.








My Sketchbook

Brought it to counselling two hours ago, to her office.  That’s another way I show people instead of telling people that I’m working very hard.  They need to see it.  Then they can show me progress on a chart over time so I can see it.  Then it becomes a loop of positive reinforcement.  There is a lot of forward movement.  Considering how many home visits there were when we started.  Part of it was adjusting to meds and not being able to drive while sedated. When that was going on my son and I had sessions from our beds.

Like when we came home from the neo natal intensive care unit and the aftermath of his emergency c-section.  Had to move downstairs and we lived in the room by the kitchen for four months.  Everything was a struggle, upside down compared to my daughters homebirth. It was a long recovery. Kept reinjuring myself and was forced back into bed, it was also involving my having to abandon breast feeding and then post partum depression set in.  So we called our public health nurse and she would come into that room and into the bed with us to check on us.  We had so much to cover, diet and nutrition, getting a breast pump, immuninzations,  I wasn’t easy to work with. It was just after my MD handed me the Mother Jones article in his office for me to go home and read. A counselor from Vashon Island Youth and Family Services came by monthly until we could leave that room.

This work is so intimate.


This new work is about creating spiraling mandalas with text naming feelings that surface during a panic attack. Then the reality of the situation and my environment, spiraling out of a negative loop.  Sat with it, all I’ve got is a circle with a sentence in the center.  *I’m so afraid.* We’ll be meeting weekly until I see what I need to see.  Choosing to view it through the lens of curiousity and compassion.

Panic attacks are new to me. I didn’t have them so I didn’t understand them so I didn’t believe in them.  I thought it was a feeling and I’ve always known we get to chose those.   I did not know that it is a body thing, not a mind set thing.  I’ve had butterflies in the stomach. That’s normal. This is a broken response to stress. This is seeing a ghost stress, but it’s not a ghost. There’s no ghost, just me. I wanna know if I’m doing it to myself.

The butterflies turns into a hummingbird who is slamming into the windows trying to get out then the hummingbird turns into a helicopter, i just saw a ghost stress.  There has got to be a way to shut it off while it’s happening.









Major disturbance in the force man.

Wouldn’t that be nice if I could just sleep right through it.  Sometimes they are like howler monkeys. They are right out side my open window and I have half a mind to run out side and yell right back at them.  Who Who Who Who, Who the fuck are you? Who who who who!

Can’t help it, gotta get out of bed and check on all the kids. That put on my bathrobe shuffle through the house for ice scream… making sure the doors are locked, it is so alarming. They are like like full on. So loud.

Barred Owls. From a deep sleep I thought there were children outside in the yard, I must have been dreaming.  There are two of them.  Turf wars or mating? Like Hitchcock but different, a toss up between Harry Potter and The Omen. When ever they do that out here, somethings happening at the schools. The sound of the shit hitting the fan.

He’s like OMG go back to bed.  Yeah, sometimes I wish I could be like him and just snore through everything.  I am a little worried about the cats.  And just I was writing that, could hear one running across the roof.  The cats say the coast is clear, Ok good night. I’m going back to bed.  Well I tried.  Made jumbo blueberry muffins and coffee instead. It’s impossible to fall back asleep after that wild rumpus.

Whoops, woke my oldest son up and freaked him out.  He was up and boots on in a few moments.  Yup, the owls are like possessed.  They bother him also when he’s hunting, late September before sunrise.  Here, I said, gave him the muffins.  Both of us iritatated but mellowing and listening to the woods and waiting for sunrise, won’t be long.


So when’s the next yacht race?

What’s it gonna be Mr?  Maybe The Seattle Grand Prix.  October. Thinking about it.  It’s a small course for the boat.  Kind of like barrel racing a clydesdale.  Requires some thought.  After that, seeing about Gig Harbor for the La Mans. November. (Not me, not my favorite, everyone has to start the race from below deck.) South Sound Series begins December 5th.

Did one La Mans and it was a total drag.  Kinda foggy dead air, postponements so we used up all our diesel back and forth at the start.  Came home way after dark and ran out of gas in the middle of a shipping lane, no wind and stuck like that for hours.

That was the race we got stuck in the counter clockwise current. One full circle took about 45 minutes and we did that shit all night. Extremely frustrating.  Couldn’t even look at the water, it was all crazy and would make you sick just looking it. Like we were spinning around a large plate that was just under the surface of the water, it didn’t make any sense.  Right off the sound end of the island where no one lives and there isn’t any lights. Both sides of the sound,  Pt Defiance and Tahlequah, spooky.

There were just three of us on deck trying all night to get out of it.  My husband at the helm, myself and another woman.  He was falling in and out of sleep.  One of us spotted something off the bow and things got interesting.  It was a pod of little dolphins.  At first we thought they were orcas because we could see that they were black and white, but they were dall porpoises.

They usually only travel in pairs, but these guys were a tribe and they were swimming in a clockwise circle creating our way out and we took it.  We spun back around and floated right out of the door they opened for us.  Still it freaked me out, my first and last La Mans, never again.



Under any conditions

You just can’t beat the straight out speed of a cat or a tri for that matter.  The first year was the best.  After that, forget about it. The m32 is the fastest thing out there.

They took turns sleeping in a body bag and the owner made sure he had a knife in there so he could cut himself out if things went horribly wrong. They made it in slightly more then 4 days. (It took me four days to drive the alcan, alone- Vashon to Anchorage in the suburban. that’s with taking time to stop at laird hot springs. )

the best part of the trip:







I like monsters.

Giggling nervously so I feel better.  Scare myself everyday. Shaking it off after sharing stories with the kids.  We all had to run around and get our yayas out.  Seriously though.  Earlier this summer I wanted to go swimming all alone without a borrowed cell phone for adventures like that. Parked the car and listened to the woods.  Way down deep inside I heard a little voice that said give it up it’s not your night.  Still I went to the waters edge and shone my flashlight across the water.  Couldn’t bring myself to do it.  Buddy system. Gave up and went home and complained to my family.  I’m surprised I let that stop me, but it was palpable. Mentioned it to a friend the next day and he said, Yup heard about that from someone else recently.  They didn’t even get out of their car.  Sometimes the woods yell at you here.  It can be fine one day and spooky the next. Buddy system.


Define Active.

Energy related.  Anything that runs off electricity can be affected.  Ahem.  Including all the gaming equipment.  It’s not your fault, don’t take it personally.  Sorry, we usually have this conversation right off with people who haven’t met the shadow side of the house yet. It was built in 1902 and there is a lot of plaster, messes with wifi. Don’t let it mess with your brains or your spirit. We can’t get like Dish network, no signal, too many trees.  Really I think part of it is the house and part of it is the island.

It can be beyond the comfort of any belief system.  Sometimes when people visit the island with the intention of living here they have to do it in stages with a gentle transition.  It’s like the island soaks us up and spits us off or never lets us go like a vacuum.   Maybe it’s the ferry ride over.  They say every crossing is a blessing, washing things away that we no longer need to survive.

Now some people never need to look at a schedule, they catch every boat they intend.  Others get trapped in traffic hours long, everything is hard for them, lots of extra obstacles. Those people don’t stay long. People know when it’s time to go. If it feels that way, don’t stay. It gets really intense right before the weather shifts and the cold nights bring in that thick fog that clings to the trees.  Right now the weather is perfect for sleeping. We still have an abundance of light. It is growing quiet, the summer birds are clearing out. The crows and ravens and owls are padding their nests.

As for me, it’s time to pull out my knitting bags.  It’s scarf, wraps and hat season.  Have this beautiful wrap I’ve been working on for a year.  It’s almost finished.  Need to add this cashmere lining almost there.  That’s an early solstice gift for a sister.  Layering her in my thoughts of love and prayers.  Waiting for that first fire we set in the wood stove. Dressing in extra layers and and holding out as long possible. Usually the second week in October, when all the earth energy shifts into darkness.

Marshall Soul as I call him when I think of him, though I don’t know how to spell it- told me that Vashon Island and Blake Island had different native names wove into this larger mythology.  Mount Rainier was called Tahoma, meaning heart.  Taho.  Vashon and Blake were named together. Tash tco and Taco.  (Those names were S’Homamish, not Marpole.)  Vashon was meant to be like Blake Island is today.  There are many reasons, explained in the old stories. Check out the last sentence, it’s ok, zoom the eye to the last sentence.  Some places are openly creepy.  Like that big dead tree on the top of Gold Beach, with all the crows on its dead branches. That disturbing hand painted crooked sign.  Right out of Scooby Doo or better, Poltergeist. That’s an example of a place that I wouldn’t feel comfortable living. Having to drive by that marker everyday. Nope.

Excerpt from Source:


The elaboration of art between 500 B.C. and A.D. 1 from its simple beginnings around 2,500 B.C. has been attributed to a long-lived and deep rooted personal guardian spirit and shamanic belief system (Carlson 1983: 204). In the Strait of Georgia about 500 B.C. a number of new or elaborated mortuary traits appear such as the inclusion of abundant offerings with the deceased, particularly large numbers of shell and stone beads, cairn burial, and very likely burial mounds. Some of the cairn burials occur in cemeteries isolated from habitation sites (Smith and Fowke 1901) suggesting the existence of ‘sacred places’ set aside specifically for the disposal of the dead. The archaeological record from the preceding 500 years, however, is too limited to assume that these innovations were unique to the Marpole complex. Similarly, on the northern coast, graves richly provided with offerings appear in the shell middens. Much of the rock art found in proximity to the major winter villages likely pertains to Period IV but the direct dating of rock art still defies archaeological methods. Indirect methods of dating, such as the motif inscriptions on small stone objects from radiocarbon dated components, suggest considerable time depth for the practice (Lundy 1983). Between 1,000 B.C. and A.D. 500 the incidence of modified human bone, particularly skull parts, on the northern coast suggest shamanistic practices and possibly the initial development of historically documented cannibal societies (Cybulski 1978).










Listening to The President’s Speech at the UN


My favorite part was his respect for women’s modesty.  Watched as the reps from France took note and I liked that.  It’s been years since I’ve felt comfortable around people at beaches or swimming pools.  So I cover myself.  Visiting Chicago, I wore a long skirt and and a long tanktop when I took my kids to pool sunglasses and big hat. Tied the skirt at the knee.  People glanced for a minute but no one tried to kick me out.







6 New Sketch Books

5 kids got new sketch books today. They make a great gift.  What a way to make a kid smile. Sharing art supplies. Drawing books, books on calligraphy, atelier drawing. Had two ink stones and one stick. One of the kids dropped it and it broke in half. Thought it would upset me, the opposite.  I was like-Perfect.  Thank you.  One for you and one for you.

Markers, pens, pen tips, charcoal, brushes, paints, pastels. Every body’s happy.



From 40 Yards

Damn. Now that is fun to watch.  Love it.

One of my earliest memories of my paternal grandmother is of her dressing a buck on the kitchen table.  There were about 8 or 9 guys watching her carefully.  She looked up at me and waved her knife, get her out of here, she’s too little.  Too late and I’m over it.  My favorite toy was an old school kabanger made out of sinew and caribou hooves from Alaska, like an Inuit kid.  She had all kinds of things she brought  us, as a kid, I had mukluks. A huge malamute named Yukon.  That dog used to pull me in my little saucer sled chasing after my father on his snow machine. Of course my kids would be hunters.  It’s in their blood.  I went to see her a lot before she died.  It was so nice to see that her friends, neighbors and family daily brought her fresh everything to eat, I mean to say, trout for breakfast. She never ate store bought salmon, yuck, tastes like plastic and bleach.  My cousins took out 16 Caribou a few winters back.  Santa’s entire fleet to feed four families for one winter.  My favorite place on earth was her kitchen. All the way up to the end even my cousin and I risked life and limb to pick high brush blueberries for her in late September.  I was pregnant with little man and she with her little one in a baby carrier.  We had gathered a few little boxes of berries and I noticed where the bears had stripped the bushes and just then heard a SNAP.  Didn’t move and calmly asked my cousin if she heard that and casually said yes just start walking slowly backwards to the truck, she left her 45 on the kitchen table.  When we got in the truck I giggled nervously and said now that would have been a terrible sound for your sweet babies ears well and mine for that matter. That photo would make her smile. Sad they never met.  I’m much rather seem them doing this. Instead of playing xbox or going to the tavern to play pool.


I’m feeling it. That pull.

Having an RJ day.  Feeling it.  “Come on guys, pull it together.”

Little man asked me for Rj’s hoodie.  It was saved. Gave it back.  I said thank you for remembering him.  Jon found a tshirt and asked me who it belonged to, RJ.  Found another one too. Wearing it.

Brainstorm. New series already know who I’m giving the paintings to.  What a perfect way to burn him into my memory. Encaustic series of RJ  practicing his snowboarding flips on his skateboard while on his trampoline.