Fly Rods and Rain Sticks - Story

I’m sorry, but I’m a little bummed right now.  I went to the lake to do a little fly fishing, as I pulled in the parking lot, it was full of fancy paint and shiny chrome.  Them city slickers were packing $500 fly rods and wearing them fancy store bought fishing vests.

I just shook my head and started to turn the old red truck around, then I saw my rain stick lying there on the seat.  I had myself one of those brain storms and laughed, I’d show them city folk!

Launching the boat, I rowed right into the middle of that crowd.  The hardware was flying and I thought maybe I was going to get my ears pierced.  I tied a fly on the old Medalist rod and strung out a short line, so’s I could fish one handed. 

Standing tall, waving that fly rod and my rain stick like a crazy man, I started to chant... aye... aye... aye...  The water around me opened like a giant eyeball, and there I stood chanting and catching fish.  After I’d caught about 50 fat rainbows, a bunch of them city slickers left in a big hurry. 

I sure had a laugh on them city folk.  Finally, all wore out from chanting and waving that stick around, I rowed to shore.  Near shore, I started shaking my rain stick... aye... aye... aye... and them people got out of my way.  By the time I loaded the boat, I was feeling pretty smug.

Having a joke on them city slickers was so fun that I went back the next morning.  When I pulled in the parking lot, there was a bunch of them crazy city slickers waving fly rods and rain sticks.  They was all chanting... aye... aye... aye, I just shook my head and left.  I think maybe I’m gonna give up fly fishing!

The Beautiful Carolina Coast - Poetry

Miles of waves crashing on the beautiful Carolina Coast

The cry of the gull and the wind in your hair

Then something inside you reaches out

And grabs hold of all that good stuff.

When that happens

You have the Carolina Coast in your blood

And you come back, you come back, you come back.

Imagine those early explorers in their great sailing ships

Months on the open sea, boredom, bad food, bad water and then

To step out onto those glorious Carolina beaches

And they come back, they come back, they come back.

Now all of us share the same public beaches
We leave our tracks in the sand without race, color or creed
Just a bunch of people having fun at the beach.


I can see the right of it, I can see the wrong of it

But one thing I’ll always know is

I come back, I come back, I come back

To the beautiful Carolina coast.

An Evening With Piper Reva - Music Review

Photo by Annabelle Avergne

Sometimes, life just doesn’t get any better.  Last Friday night was one of those special moments.  Washington sips and wine bar in La Conner hosted an incredible performance starring Piper Reva, and I was one of the lucky fans who packed the house.

It’s rare to find this level of entertainment up close and personal.  It’s as though Piper is singing just for you.  She takes the time to sign albums and make small talk, best of all, she makes you laugh or cry as easily as a magician pulling rabbits from a hat.

Piper’s performances are a rich buffet of original American soul food, and always fun!  You can check her schedule, buy a CD, or learn more about her by clicking on her link.  You can check out Washington sips and wine bar by clicking their link.

A Student I Will Never Forget - Swinomish Memories

David Jack is one of those students I will never forget.  He loved to play chess and was good at it.  Often, he would come to my room and haul out the chessboard.  He’d hold a castle in one of his hands, and I would have to guess which hand it was in, kind of like a bone game to see who got first move.  Then we’d start moving those pawns forward, we’d jump those knights around, move those bishops corner to corner, and it was quite the battle.  Sometimes, when I heard the words “checkmate” it smarted because here I was a college grad being beat by one of my students.

        

Another thing David loved was dolly fishing in the Swinomish Channel and Skagit River.  One day we were fishing the Johnson Bar in Burlington and David hung his lure on a snag, thinking it a fish, he set the hook and his fishing pole broke.  I know a lot of people who would have been done fishing at that point, but not David.  He went to the parking lot and found a piece of broken glass.  He walked the bar, finding a flat sandy rock, he proceeded to shave and sand the broken halves of his fishing pole until they fit perfectly!

        

One day, I cleared the room and went to lunch.  I didn’t know that David had tilted the storage cabinet out from the wall and hid behind it.  When the cabinet tilted back, he was stuck and could not get out.  The poor guy was stuck there the whole lunch period.  After lunch, unlocking the door, I heard a muffled yell, “Help Mr. R. I’m stuck!” What if David had done that on a Friday afternoon and got stuck there the whole weekend?  I could just imagine the newspaper headlines, “Teacher Leaves Student Trapped For The Weekend.” 

Man VS Animal Kingdom - Poetry

Pie cooling on sill

Mice dancing, sniffing, licking

Leaving surprises

Vultures circling

Near naked sunbathers

Wishful daydreaming

Torn broken ice chest

Bear drinking ice cold beer

Hairy hangover

Jack and John - Story

My Great, Great Grandpa John (Jack) Everett Hoyt's Pigs

Old Jack laughed, his gnarled fingers scraping the pan as he tossed table scraps to his chickens.  John had promised to buy a beer at the Pig and Whistle, but he was thinking, “Yah, when pig’s fly he’ll buy!”

Old John was mulling over how he might get a tiddley wink of pig’s ear out of Old Jack.  “Yah, puttin’ lipstick on a pig don’t change nothing, and Jack ain’t likely to be buyin’ any toddy."

Finally, with the pigs in their stys, and the chickens safe in their coups, the two old pig farmers met at the Pig and Whistle for their usual evening drink.  Jack says to John, “The old sow’s dropping piglets like rain and I’m makin’ bacon.  How’s about you buyin’ the beer ta celebrate?”

John coughed and snorted, “Sounds like you got a lifetime supply of sqealing bacon so you just tuck one o’ them piglets under your arm and play me a sad an’ awful song on the bagpipes, maybe then I’ll buy us some beer.”

By now, Jack was red in the face, “If that ain’t a pig in a poke, you claimin’ ta buy me a beer and now you’re gettin’ piggy, why you’re more slippery than a greased pig and tighter with your money than a pig's rear end.”

Now it was John’s turn to be red in the face, “Calling me piggy is right fine of you because pig stands for pride, integrity and guts you old fool.  You know... don’t ya, that inside every man there’s a tiger, a pig and an ass and I’m not sure which one you is.”

Finally, the bartender says, “Well if that don’t dill my pickle, you two’s worse than two pigs in a parlor, how’s about I buy the first round just to shut you old farts up.”

Now Jack, a twinkle in his eye, takes a sip of beer and slaps John on the back, “You’re the best pal I ever had. ” 

They each buy a couple more rounds and shuffle off down the road.  John says to Jack, “Let’s go get a couple piglets so’s we can play us a sad an’ awful song on them bagpipes.” 

SKAT Buses for LaConner - Swinomish Memories

One of my favorite English assignments was to have my students write a letter to the editor of the Channel Town Press or the Skagit Valley Herald.  We would brainstorm the issues and make a list, we would read the newspapers and discuss the things important to the people of Skagit Valley.  Once researched, the students would begin the writing process.

• Write an outline

• Use the outline to write a rough draft

• Edit the letter

• Write the final draft

• Submit for publication

 Breanna Bill is a practical person, while most of the kids were thinking about things plastered all over the newspapers, Breanna chose something different.  At that time, SKAT buses were new to Skagit County, and they were not coming to LaConner!  Breanna’s letter to the editor was one of the first requesting SKAT bus services for LaConner.

    
Her letter was like the snowball that started an avalanche.  Soon, many people were asking for bus service in both LaConner and Anacortes.  Within the year, Breanna’s letter had started a landslide movement that brought the SKAT buses to LaConner.

    
This success story has always been near and dear to my heart as it clearly demonstrates the power of writing.  We may only have one voice and one vote, but through writing we can have the voice of all our people and the power of all their votes.  For this I am thankful of Breanna Bill and her letter to the editor so many years ago.