Slackjaw's Forum

We’re still looking to move the trailer, but so far we haven’t been able to find a place we’d want to put down roots. It’s easy to think this is due to the very nature of living in trailers, which are after all transitory—and designed for a life on the go. But Sweetie and I don’t think that’s the problem. We’ll find it. We’ve come close, have visited trailers not for sale in places we could see a long history ahead of us. People tell us this is a buyers market and for some I’m sure that’s true. It hasn’t proved to be a buyers market for us, but this could all change at the drop of a hat. In the meantime, we’re doing the little things needed to put our own trailer on the market—things like painting the back porch and putting the yard in order. Sweetie and I attacked the garage the other afternoon and once again we’ve managed to carve out a small swath that allows us to stand in the middle and spin in confused lazy circles while looking for old flower vases hidden near the botto...

This is my first attempt at editing video. The footage is from last week up on Vancouver Island and the music is a piece from the soundtrack for the Kennewick man documentary I did.

We spent last week overlooking Hood Canal, making day trips by Kayak and pontoon boat. Eagles, like the one above were pretty common, as were giant flocks of Blue Herron and curious Seals. We took a boat tour that lead us into the Indian reservation, up past where Mr. Nalley had once damned up the river to grow wheat during the summer months and released the waters so that his rich East Coast clients could hunt for water fowl in the soggy grey days of winter. Ike had pneumonia right before we got there, so he and Sweetie showed up a day late, to give him time to get better. This is the second time this year Ike’s had pneumonia, remarkable only in the fact that he’d never had it before in all the years he’s been around. We are cautiously blaming the ketogenic diet he is now on to control his seizures. The tour lasted until the sun slipped behind the mountains of the Olympic Peninsula. In the last few rays of sunshine, the seals swam close enough to touch—breaking the surface of the smoo...