fish with personality and birks

in the pics: a painting from one of my mom's friends--char; my feet in birkenstocks, but they were cold and wanted to be in thick white socks.

“they don’t sell non gutted fish.”
That’s my mom, talking about buying fish in good ol’ US of A. having returned from Peace corps, where I served in Samoa, I got very used to seeing whole fish. I even cleaned a few fish. My family usually did this job. As a teacher, I was not expected to do it. I almost had to force my way into doing a job like this. I miss pulling the head off and taking the guts out of my fish for dinner.

“I don’t want to eat too much, I might gain weight.” I’ve been noticing the weight I’m putting on when I eat like I did when I was in high school. I guess that was a while ago.

Sometimes it’s so hard to put on socks and shoes, after being in Birkenstock for two years. My feet get sweaty in the thick cotton socks. But then I remember it’s cold. Isn’t there a happy compromise?

My “costume” which is only worn when I do a presentation about peace corps. Maybe when it’s a bit warmer…

T4A pilot personality test: I occasionally find it difficult to stand up to people at higher levels within the organization. I wonder where that came from. Oh well, both the teaching opportunities I was applying for said no. So now I’m looking at financial consultant, and working for the government.

Hope. Pray. Act.

through the eyes of LNG

Below is what I read at a recent hearing in Astoria, OR on the issue of bringing an LNG facility to astoria.

My name is Matt Crichton. I live in Astoria. Having recently returned from Peace Corps, I have not been involved in the LNG issue very long. A few weeks ago, I attended a screening of various short films about the Columbia River, it’s history, and LNG. There are a few points that I learned which have really stuck with me—and concerned me.

• On a recent decision, the only dissenting vote was from an individual who had actually visited the site. I believe it is much easier to make important decisions if that person has not personally visited the location in question.
• Most of (if not all) the LNG produced by the facilities will not be used in Oregon, but transported to another state. Why doesn’t the company build the LNG facilities in the states where the product will be used?
• I don’t know the statistics about tourists and other LNG sites, but I believe the visitors that are so important to this area may make other plans if they know an LNG facility exists. And I think the long-term impacts will only be negative to all living creatures in this area.
• I am not convinced the short and long term benefits outweight the costs associated with this project.
• We (I) spend a lot of money to protect the Columbia. It seems counterproductive to install something that may make the same level of protection so much more expensive.

During my Peace Corps experience, I visited New Zealand. Everyone I had talked to before going said NZ is beautiful. I also found NZ beautiful, from the oceans to the mountains. I was also struck by how firm NZ in its commitment to maintaining the natural beauty they have—because they know the positive impact of their tourists on the economy. I believe we should have that same firm commitment to sustaining the beauty around us.

I wrote a poem for this occasion and would like to share it. It requires you to close your eyes. The title of the poem is “Through the Eyes.”

Through the eyes of the fish,
Swimming through water cold and shimmery,
Soon to be served steaming on dinner dish.

Through the eyes of the deer,
Raising her head at the noise,
Flicking tail to alert danger and fear.

Through the eyes of the eagle,
Soaring gracefully overhead.
Caught in ocean drafts while looking for next meal.

Through the eyes of the mouse,
Scurrying this way and that,
Looking for food and a twig for his house.

Through the eyes of the snake.
Lazily basking in sinking afternoon sun.
Not a care for any motion’s sake.

Through the eyes of the frog.
A chorus of ribbit ribbit ribbit.
Wides eyes awake as darkness covers the bog.

Through the eyes of the sea lion,
Barking commands to protect his space.
Rolling his large body over and over to find a better place.

Through the eyes of a little boy,
Spying white caps from car window.
Dreaming of becoming a big river pilot guiding convoy.

Thank you.