Showing posts with label News Tribune Column. Show all posts
Showing posts with label News Tribune Column. Show all posts

Friday, February 20, 2015

Five on Friday

Sunrise on Mt. Rainier, illuminating lenticular clouds.

I am taking a break from the Garden Show Series
to participate in a new meme hosted by 
called, Five on Friday. 

If you would like to join this fun meme, 
click on the link above. 

Today I am posting 5 photos of Mt. Rainier. 

Moon Rise over Mt. Rainier at sunset 

14,411 ft. Mt. Rainier dominates the Cascade Mt. Range
here in Washington State,
and produces its own weather. 

It is considered one of the most dangerous volcanoes
in the world due to its large amount of glacial ice.
A potential eruption or lahar could bring down massive 
amounts of mud and rock into populated areas -
with a potential of burying the Puyallup Valley 40 ft. deep.

We are high above, protected by large ridges of mountains,
and not in the path of danger.  

If you would like to learn more about this beautiful, 
but dangerous mountain, you can read about it Here

Dramatic sunrise over the Cascade Range
As a young Mother, my husband and I moved onto raw land
overlooking this view, to build our dream home. 

You can read about our journey Here
and under 'Our Life Together' on my side bar.

Hole in the sky above Mt. Rainier
This was not an easy journey,
but this beautiful view made it worth
the struggle.

Lenticular clouds portend a coming storm

Living here on the edge of the wilderness may be quiet and lonely
in human terms, but there is always something interesting and dramatic
going on in nature.

I live by nature's rythyms and have learned to read her signs.
I have a profound respect for this beautiful place that we call Earth,
and a continued realization of how fragile this planet can be.

It has been my priviledge to live here
despite the hardships,
for I have learned the true
meaning and value of nature's beauty.

xoxo

Linking with: Five on Friday

Monday, November 18, 2013

Part 111 - Gratitude Carries you Through the Worst Storms of Life-


Previously published in The News Tribune - November 19, 2012



It was Thanksgiving 1983 when we learned the true meaning of gratitude.

Only two years earlier we were living our dream, having just bought our first home, a newly constructed, modest three-bedroom ranch with a large yard for our expanding family. My hard-working young husband had just been promoted to assistant manager of our local grocery store. We had just bought our first new family car. 

Life was simple, but good. 

But our new home was constructed at the beginning of the savings and loan crisis of the early 1980's. Due to congressional deregulation, savings and loan companies were allowed to make high-risk loans to developers. Unknowingly, we had purchased our home from one such developer who sold to buyers on contract. Within one year, we were to roll over the mortgage to a lender. 

But the recession intervened in our plans. Our contract was signed at a low interest rate, but within the year, banks and savings and loans were failing at a rate even higher than in the Great Depression.

Unemployment shot up to a national high of 10.8 percent with some areas as high as 20 percent. Inflation had reached a startling 13.5 percent. The prime interest rate, which was about 11 percent in 1979, rose to 20 percent by June 1981. By June 1982, it had reached 21.5 percent. 

We did not qualify at these rates, nor could we afford the payments. We were about to lose our home and our good credit, but we refused to give up our dreams. With three little ones, we had few options. 

Determined and full of idealism, we sold everything we owned, bought this land and a 32-foot 1962 Nomad Travel Trailer - a beauty by today's vintage standards, with blond cabinetry and pink full-sized appliances - to live in while building. 

Sited for maximum views

Setting the 12 inch rafters over the living room

Toddler Jennie and I visit Daddy at the construction site

The second story nearly complete

Roof Trusses nearly completed - son Gabriel looks out window
Our home, built paycheck to paycheck, was only partly finished when our idealism turned to despair. My husband received a layoff notice, and we were unable to afford our nearly paid-off car. It was repossessed after we missed just two payments. We were left with our equally vintage International Scout, but grateful for it just the same. 

Daughter Heather rides her toy horse in front of International Scout


I look out window during roof construction
As Thanksgiving 1983 approached, we were experiencing very stormy weather. We had just started the roofing when my husband was laid off, and giant tarps covered the rafters. But as the storms increased in fury, the tarps blew off in the wind. 

We bravely climbed onto the roof in gale-force winds to secure them, but it was to no avail. Torrential rain flooded the hand-milled floors, forcing us to drill holes to release the standing water. We huddled inside our cozy trailer as the wind rocked it back and forth. 

The Thanksgiving Day storm of 1983 was one for the record books. The gusts were recorded at 62 mph at Sea-Tac Airport, but here in the foothills, the wind was even stronger. Thousands were without electricity with Thanksgiving Day turkeys half-cooked in the oven. But because we were living self-sufficiently in our little trailer with propane fuel, we were able to enjoy the meal we splurged on with the last of our savings. 

As we ate our humble meal in our humble little trailer, we were grateful for so many things despite our hardships. We had a roof over our heads, we had this wonderful meal, and we had each other and our health. After the storm cleared, we realized how truly fortunate we were. During the night, a 100-foot tree fell, missing our little trailer by mere feet. 

We had much to be grateful for. And we still have the holes in our floors to remind us. 

xoxo 

Next time - After the Storm


Monday, December 31, 2012

Happy New Year! - My Last Column


Happy New Year!


New Year’s Eve as We Look Back to the Future


We stand in the crisp night air, our breath forming billowing wreaths around us, before drifting slowly away. This reminds me of time – gossamer, intangible, something that cannot be held on to.  It is quiet and still and we are waiting, our cold hands wrapped snugly around our steaming mugs of cocoa laced with peppermint liqueur, a small nod to this one special night. Suddenly the distant hills come alive with the bright, crackling sparks of brilliantly colored lights. Red, green, blue and white, they rise from the quiet hills, illuminating the night sky before falling, falling and fading away. The air becomes thick with the far away booms and pops of fireworks, as the clock strikes midnight and we raise our mugs to another year. He draws me close and gently kisses my cheek. We are best friends, partners in life, husband and wife, co-conspirators, and fellow weary travelers on the road of life. This quiet celebration is exactly right.

We watch the dark outlines of rolling hills, waiting and listening, drawing in our breath, lest the fleeting moments of sparkling illumination become obscured. Our exhalations are the applause, as we silently witness the transition of time, from one year to the next. Gradually the night becomes quiet, returning to dark wilderness once more. We step inside to the warmth of the fire.

He says, “It’s been quite a year.” He says that every year. And every year I agree. He says, “We still have each other.” I laugh, but these simple words strike home, for I know how fragile and fleeting life is. I am profoundly grateful and bow my head. When I look up, I see his eyes glimmering with a sentimental mist. Yes, we still have each other.

We have celebrated many a New Year’s Eve together. A lifetime’s worth. We have gone to parties, weddings, and Hawaiian Luau shows. But more often than not, we have spent this night at home. Four children were hard to park. We had too many responsibilities, too many obligations. We had jobs and children that required early risings, even on New Year’s Day. There were pets afraid of the surrounding celebrations, destructive in their fear. For years I have painted over the chewed door jamb of one such New Year’s night out, compliments of Pete, the spotted hound.

We’ve made many New Year’s resolutions, some just recently found gracing the inside cover of an old journal. ‘Potty train the baby.  Keep the inside of the car clean. Lose 10 lbs.’ I did get one of those resolutions accomplished – the baby did get potty trained.

It’s also a good time to reflect on the year past. The song we all sing by the beloved Scottish poet, Robert Burns; “Auld Lang Syne,” means “Old Long Ago”. We are asked, “Should auld acquaintance be forgot and never brought to mind? Should auld acquaintance be forgot and days of Auld Lang Syne?”

As we sit by the fire warming ourselves after our wilderness light show, we talk of this “Old Long Ago”. For isn’t it our past that helps to create the people we are now, sifting through the memories and keeping the best, leaving the rest as lessons well learned?  We speak of those we have loved and lost, remembering the laughter and the joy, taking the best along with us as we move forward without them. We speak of our hopes and dreams for this New Year and all that we are grateful for. We talk of all that we have overcome in our struggles of the past.

 But most of all, we talk of our wish for the world; that everyone feels grateful to have each other. After all, we have just survived the end of the Mayan Calendar. We must be doing something right.


Below you can access my New Year's Story just published today.
 
 
 
At this time of New Beginnings, my experience with writing for The Tacoma News Tribune has now ended.
 
Last year at this same time I had read of an opportunity to become one of six 'Community Columnists' in my daily newspaper.
 
On a lark, I submitted the required two stories, each 650 words or less, relating to my personal experience of living in Pierce County, Washington.
 
They wanted a cross section of writer's from different areas and walks of life to write a column every 6 weeks for 1 year.

Unpaid.
 
Living here on the very edge of Pierce County and bordering wilderness, I thought that reader's might enjoy my stories.
 
I was so excited to be chosen!
  
This has been a wonderful experience.
 
And very humbling.
 
I did not feel worthy to be included in the ranks of these talented writers.
 
 
We did have the opportunity to meet for some authentic Korean BBQ in September, organized by my fellow Community Columnist, Maria Gudaitis, shown here on the front right.
 
Beside her is Editor, Patrick O'Callahan, and then little old me.
 
On the left in the back is Glenda Cooper. She wrote a book that I recently reviewed and can also be viewed on my side bar, 'The Road to Lost and Found'.
 
Beside her is my Editor, Cheryl Tucker and at the very front sits Catherine Forte.
 
You can read all of their columns (and those that weren't in attendance) from the link I have included - under 'Opinions' on the title bar, then 'Columnists'.
 
Both Editor's also write blogs!
 
I am sad that my year with The News Tribune has ended, but I am so grateful for this wonderful experience.
 
I will be looking for new opportunities going forward!
 
Thank you, Dear Reader's for all of your encouragement and positive feedback.
 
It has meant so much!
 
xoxo


Monday, November 19, 2012

Gratitude

Gratitude Carries You through the Worst Storms of Life
It was Thanksgiving, 1983 when we learned the true meaning of the word gratitude. Only two years earlier we were living our dream, having just bought our first home, a newly constructed, modest three bedroom ranch with a large yard for our expanding family. My hard- working young husband had just been promoted to assistant manager of our local grocery store. We had just bought our first new family car. Life was simple, but good.
But our new home was constructed at the beginning of the Banking, and Savings and Loan crisis of the early 80’s. Due to congressional deregulation, Savings and Loans were allowed to make high risk loans to developers. Unknowingly, we had purchased our home from one such developer who sold them to buyers on contract. Within one year, we were to roll over the mortgage to a lender.
But the recession intervened in our plans. Our contract was signed at a low interest rate, but within the year, Banks, and Savings and Loans were failing at a rate even higher than the Great Depression. Unemployment shot up to a national high of 10.8% with some areas as high as 15-20%. Inflation had reached a startling 13.5%. Federal Reserve Chairman Paul Volcker tried to slow the rate of inflation by raising interest rates. The Federal Funds rate, which was about 11% in 1979, rose to 20% by June of 1981. By June of 1982, the prime interest rate had reached 21.5%.
We did not qualify at these rates, nor could we afford the payments. We were about to lose our home and our good credit, but we refused to give up our dreams. With 3 little ones, we had few options. Determined and full of idealism, we sold everything we owned, bought this land and a 1962 32 ft. Nomad Travel Trailer, a beauty by today’s vintage standards, with blonde cabinetry and pink full sized appliances, to live in while building. Our paycheck to paycheck built home was only partly finished when our idealism quickly turned to despair when my husband received a lay-off notice, and unable to afford our nearly paid off car, it was repossessed after missing just two payments. We were left with our equally vintage International Scout, but grateful for it just the same.
As Thanksgiving, 1983 approached, we were experiencing very stormy weather. We had just started the roofing when my husband was laid off, and giant tarps covered the rafters. But as the storms increased in fury, the tarps blew off in the wind. We bravely climbed onto the roof in gale force winds to try and secure them, but it was to no avail. Torrential rain flooded the hand milled floors forcing us to drill holes to release the standing water. We huddled inside our cozy trailer as the wind rocked it back and forth.
The Thanksgiving Day storm of 1983 was one for the record books. The wind gusts were recorded at 62 mph at Sea-Tac airport, but here in the foothills, the wind was even stronger. Thousands were without electricity with Thanksgiving Day turkeys half cooked in the oven, but because we were living self- sufficiently in our little trailer with propane fuel, we were able to enjoy the meal we splurged on with the last of our savings. As we ate our humble meal in our humble little trailer, we were grateful for so many things, despite our hardships. We had a roof over our heads, we had this wonderful meal, and we had each other and our health. After the storm cleared, we realized how truly lucky we were. During the night, a 100 ft. tree fell, missing our little trailer by mere feet. We had so much to be grateful for. We still have the holes in our floors to remind us.
Published in The News Tribune
 

Friday, October 5, 2012

Columbus Day



Exploring Life as Columbus Explored the Planet

Today we celebrate Columbus Day – the day that Christopher Columbus proved once and for all that the world was round, the day that the Nina, the Pinta and the Santa Maria sailed the ocean blue to discover the ‘New World’. We mark this day on our Calendars in order to remind us of the importance of this day.

Veneration of Columbus in this country dates back to Colonial times. The District of Columbia, capital cities of Ohio and South Carolina, and our own Columbia River are named after him. The term “Pre-Columbian” is used to refer to the peoples and cultures of the Americas before the arrival of Columbus.

There was very little faith in Columbus for his desire to find a route to the new world. It was a sudden twist of fate that gave Columbus the chance to follow his dreams. Just as he was being sent away, denied his request, the decision not to fund his voyage was suddenly reversed, changed by a political decision at the very last minute, a  true reversal in fortune. But the fortune lies mostly with us, as Columbus believed he was discovering Asia, was stripped of his glory when his settlements turned barbaric, and died a broken and disgraced man, not long after discovering America. Thanks to the devotion of his descendants, his name was once again honored for the true accomplishments and sacrifices he made. This was a true monument to faith.

And like Columbus, we all navigate the uncharted waters of our lives, going on faith, marking the calendars in our minds with important moments in time. We stand on the shore and look back on these milestones that commemorate our lives; the birthdays, graduations, weddings, anniversaries, and funerals. All are equal in importance for their own special reasons and all are uniquely personal in each of our lives. These are just the common ones. There are many more, according to every individual experience, a roadmap of your life.

One of the milestones for me this year has been our wedding anniversary. This year we celebrate one of the ‘big ones’. He still makes me laugh. I still bake his favorite dessert. We still call each other ‘Honey’. Our marriage has survived moving cross country, building a home, four teenagers, two recessions, job stress, sickness and health. We always know we have each other’s back, but with the freedom to disagree, like a good government. Now that we’ve come so far, we’ve almost formed a whole story. We’ve earned the right to celebrate this one as a major milestone.

This year I have also experienced the loss of my dear Father from his long battle with Alzheimer’s disease, with my Mother gone not long before him. When both of your parents are gone, this creates a shift in your thinking. You realize that there is no generation before you. You are now the elder generation and it is up to you to carry on the legacy for the next generation, another important milestone.

But it’s not the milestones that are the most important markers in our lives; it’s what you do on an ordinary day that really determines the quality of your life. Our lives are not defined by the sum of our choices; it is the daily commitment to them that distinguishes who we are.

 And when all is said and done, it’s not the big things; it’s the little things that you remember the most. The long ago promise, the walks in the rain, the laughter and tears you share with one another.

So as we travel the journey of our lives, like Columbus, we find that the world is not at all flat, but actually comes full circle from one generation to the next, defined by the choices we make, one day at a time.
 

Monday, May 28, 2012

Memorial Day Tribute



In remembrance of those fallen serving our country so we can be free.

I've written a column as a tribute to my Father, a soldier, and our family tradition on Memorial Day.
We are forever indebted to these brave men and women.


Wreath on forgotten soldier's grave

Washington State Soldiers Cemetery

Red Roses Left on Wall in Remembrance


Stone walls in Washington State Soldiers Cemetery

Monday, April 23, 2012



My latest News Tribune Column came out today! You can read it here: http://www.thenewstribune.com/opinion/columnists/


Can you find where there is a missing word?

Hey, things happen!

How many of you have read books with spelling errors?

 I can attest that no matter how many times you proof read something, sometimes these things happen.

I hope you enjoy my column this week! I think some people can relate.  


Monday, January 30, 2012

A New Opportunity



I have been chosen as one of six reader columnists to the opinion - editorial page of The News Tribune newspaper in Tacoma, WA. !

I have been reading this newspaper since I was a young 20 - something when we moved here from Oregon.

I particularly enjoy the editorial page.

When I saw the announcement for new writers, I thought I would submit a couple of articles as a lark, just to see what would happen.

Hubby and 'the kids' were so encouraging.

When I received the call that I was one of 6 chosen, I was so excited!

As anyone who has been reading my blog knows, last year was a difficult year for me. This opportunity has come at a welcome time in my life. It gives me something positive to focus on, a way to move forward, to reach out to others.

This blog has helped me step outside of my sometimes isolated life, as a stay at home wife and empty nester, living on the edge of the wilderness. Losing my Mother last year and watching my Father's slow decline battling Alzheimer's has only added to the isolation. They lived but a stone's throw from me for the last 30 years.

Writing satisfies my need to connect with others, gives me a voice, allows me to share my little world here on the edge of the forest.

I hope you will join me on this Journey. Because it is all about the Journey, isn't it?

And to my small group of faithful reader's, Thank you. You have no idea how much I appreciate you.

(Read my column by clicking on the link at the top of the page)  
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