Showing posts with label Big Island. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Big Island. Show all posts

Tuesday, December 13, 2022

How Are You Doing?


 

What can I say? My hands are freezing, so I can hardly type. The heater hasn't chased the night chill out of my office yet—I don't know where it will go—it's beautifully sunny outside, so maybe the sun's warmth will soak it up.

 

Sweetpea is happy, though. She's under my desk with the heater. I've been watching the Discovery channel's documentary about The Alaska Bush People, and I think some of their weather drifted down here. Those Alaskan people, The Browns, lived in the bush, off the land, hunted, fished, slept in sleeping bags, on the ground, in make-shift huts, cut trees to make shelters, scavenged items from dumps, and finally got a house built. The next thing was to create a bed for the parents. (There are nine in the family—seven kids.) They hauled the bed, which weighed a half-ton, for it was made of logs, up to the second half-story, and who was the first to hop on the bed? The dog.

 

Those kids aged 12 to 32 are well-spoken, well-educated, hard-working, inventive, with definite personalities and playfulness. And all were home-schooled. They know how to hunt, fish, build inventions like smokehouses, elevators (for moving meat up a tree to keep it away from bears), and a clothes dryer. And they often recite poems at night under the glow of a campfire.

 

They do find they bump into modern conveniences once in a while when one gets sick or injured, and then, there is the challenge of finding a mate.

 

This contrasts with billionaires who live in palatial mansions with more conveniences you can shake a stick at. (Ode to my mother, I still wonder what “shake a stick at” means.) I'm not saying one is better than the other physically. Instead, I'm curious about values, morals, and living instead of existing.

 

Don't think I'm longing for Alaska, though. I prefer warm climates, although my hands are still blocks or ice.

 

We tried living off the grid once—it could work with a few more solar panels, and you don't take all your worries with you when you go.

 

You know, I've talked about our time on the Big Island in the book The Frog's Song by Joyce Davis. I still honor Jamie Royal, CEO of Regal Publishing, for feeling it worthy of publication. Only some people find it worth buying, though. I need to learn marketing—for, with excellent marketing, people will buy books worse than The Frog's Song. 

 

And this week, I'm gradually learning some of the intricacies of the computer, for a new Real Estate website has yet to be made live. And I've screwed up my laptop, removed plug-ins, jammed things up, and put them back—it works better now. So I figure it's the storm before the calm.

 

It will come together.

 

Tell me about your week.

 

 

"Breathe in the sweet air of limitless possibilities and make life as rich as you know it can be." 

 




Ah!