100th Post

This is the 100th post for this blog, one I started soon after I arrived in Unalaska/Dutch Harbor. I actually started it about a week after I got here, as soon as I had internet access at home. It is very different than my other blog but it is exactly what I envisioned at the beginning - almost all the pictures are mine (except for two of Aubrey and one of the jumping whale) and there are really no deep thoughts posted here. It is a way to keep in touch with the family I have spread from coast to coast - a son in Anchorage, a sister in Idaho, a son in North Dakota, and a sister, brother and Dad in Maine. I moved here because there is tremendous opportunities out here, the company I work for is first rate, the beauty of Unalaska is amazing, there was no one place I could live to be close to everyone, and Goldfish loves it here - and I love Goldfish. I have not had an unhappy day out here; just the opposite, I am always challenged, I have seen and done amazing things, and every day seems ripe with opportunity.

I've found that I can be as close to my sons from here as anywhere else - after all, what would I do, live somewhere in British Columbia, halfway between them? I do wish I was closer to my Dad and brother in Maine but I think after me being in Alaska 19 years they are at peace with where I live and it gives them a great place to visit. My sister in Idaho is a tougher one - I miss her dearly, and there are times I have considered living there. I remember times on my motorcycle riding by her town in the evening, the fields of fresh mint flooding my senses, small town football games being played under the lights with all the town in attendance; cheap, fresh produce pulled from the ground that morning, the mountains an hour ride away. I miss her, and my nieces and nephew. But I do dearly love this rock I live on . . . .

I took this picture last week when I was walking with Chico on the beach at Humpy Cove. The wind was whipping the sand along the beach and it was exposing all these wonderful finds, ripe for the picking. I have a nice stash of fantastic driftwood from that day. Anyways, the wind was also exposing dried out, almost mummified, spawned out salmon. The seagulls were pecking at them (those are the tracks) and Chico was eating them whenever my back was turned (they give him very bad breath on the ride home). All the shells and driftwood seemed to be floating on the sand from the windstorm . . .