Just This Once . . . .

Maybe I won't ruin something by trying to write about it . . . today was the End-of-Season company pig roast, the cod is about over, pollock is about over, and the boats are going to change gear and get ready for crab season kicking off in a couple weeks. I've come down with a nasty lung infection and the clinic has me on the three days of horse pill antibiotic program with nebulizer treatments, and not only was I not cleared for attending the pig roast, I definitely wasn't feeling up to being social, even though I like and admire the work ethic of each and every one of the folks attending. If anyone has gone through the three day pill bomb, you know there are absolutely no intestinal flora left alive in my gut to digest anything, let alone a slab of pig. To make matters worse, they had been roasting the two pigs over a rotating spit in front of the Meal Plant for 24 hours, and the whole Unalaska side of the island smelled mouth-watering.

So I was feeling a bit sorry for myself . . . . Goldfish was busy baking for the Blueberry Bash tomorrow (she's entering a pie and some jam for judging) so I bundled up and headed out on the motorcycle for a short ride on a beautiful day. I wasn't going to get any sicker, and I wasn't going to infect anyone riding a motorcycle, and it always cheers me up to get outside and explore the island, no matter what the conveyance is . . .

And I end up on Ulatka Head again, always a great spot when the sun is shining, and I stand on top of the big bunker, the sun behind my back, projecting my silhouette on the clouds like a rainbow hologram. One of the most amazing things I've ever seen . . . . I took a brief video as well because I was positive none of the fifty pictures I took would come out . . . but they did . . . and I rode away feeling lighter . . . .