Beware of Stumps

Old trees, removed, almost completely, can still send fresh messages,
like the hand of God they can reach out and grab your ankle, pull you
down. The bluegrass tune Nineteen Staples has yet to be written
reminding us how God's hand can seemingly do these things at the most
inopportune times, in slow motion. If Bill Dwyer of the Dwyer Family
Band is reading this right now with his leg suspended out in front of
him, sipping a refreshing drink, then he is chilling, just as the
doctor ordered. Good man, stay put, let your world of colossal
projects take a rest, watch the rest of the family move around as you
stay still (normally his rate of activity is so high everyone else
must appear to be moving in slow motion, now it's his turn). Bill
Dwyer, the same guy who will hop on his bike and ride to Port Angeles
and back for a kid's school book, glided into the park thinking he was
going to jump out of his bike and into his guitar to begin the
evening's party music while we all enjoyed the latest sunset of the
continental United States. Instead that little stump quietly sent him
down, pushed the steel pedal into his calf opening it up. Dazed we
loaded him into a pickup truck and his wife drove him to the emergency
room. Nineteen staples.

Port Townsend is an eclectic little family, a colorful and diverse
group of it celebrated Sophia's birthday out at the beach that evening
with a potluck bar-b-que. Being that the climate of this town
attracts excellent musicians, a neighbor musician who noticed the
party came over, heard of the accident, picked up Bill's guitar and
playing with the two kids (young adults on mando and fiddle) the group
was reformed, the music went on with the party. Just before it was
too dark to remain, after everyone had gone and cleanup was completed,
Bill's wife drove him by. His attitude was very positive as his lower
calf was thickly padded white, they didn't give him crutches because
he is not supposed to walk, did you hear that Bill? The
electrician/plumber will just have to do his thing without you. Don't
forget, climate change is working in your favor, normally we'd be
hustling right now because the rains are coming, but I don't think so,
looks like another hot and dry day outside with many more to come.
Life here continues in its artistic form, the heavy influx of recent
retirees being the biggest threat to the community by the raising
house prices but not the wages. So us preemptive retirees, a.k.a.
artists and carpenters, must stay on our toes by continually
improvising and reinventing.

We could leave and find something better somewhere else, but where
else do places like this happen? El Bolson in Argentine Patagonia,
where else? That is the dilemma, we are forced to remain and become
trappers and pioneers of the new frontiers of the ether that has yet
to be explained. All the while taking abuse and misunderstanding from
our off-spring and oft too many peers, oh well, no one ever said we
were obligated to be comprehendible, it can help at times, but should
be dialed in carefully, being incomprehensible to many can actually
buy you time, and what is more valuable than time other than love?
The irony here is that one of the most tricky things to comprehend is
love, it's best not too, if someone is out cold on you, move on. You
and they will have opportunities until death, maybe longer, who knows?
Only problem is that we are human, and that means things just get
more complicated than that.

After ripping out a quick letter to the county commissioners, and most
importantly delivering it personally to their office, a parks official
called me quite quickly and informed me that cones will be put on the
stumps today and they will be ground down next week. Wow, I couldn't
help congratulating myself about the pen being mightier than the
sword. Then, coincidentally, on the same day, I decided to quickly
spray some little dots on our street at the 8 foot off-set mark from
the water lines to give myself a guide when the sub-contractors come
to tear-up the street to put in the sewer. Just as I went out and
started spraying a city truck pulled up and out came the city
engineer. I just jumped into the scene, showed him my perception of
where the pipe must go in order to save the row of 12 one hundred foot
tall fir trees lining our street. We had a good talk, so it seems, of
course he'll have a good talk with the sub-contractors and house
owners that are being forced to put in this sewer because the renters
in their house blew out the septic system too. Oh well, I did make it
quite clear that this job is going to be closely watched and better
not go like a few other jobs I have seen the past year. If necessary
I'm ready for some non-violent resistance if the trench seems to be
going in the direction the engineer and I agreed was not wise if the
trees are to survive. More on this later. Beware of trees and those
who like them too.