Alaska 2026: Homer Happy Surprises
We are up and eager for our boat trip into the Katchemak Bay. We have cereal and banana, pack up some snacks, and put on our sunscreen. It is not so brightly sunny as prior days, but sunny enough to burn. We find the meeting point, and another couple joins us, then the crew and we get on the boat. Once again, we are four customers and a captain and deckhand.
Even better, the man in the other couple introduces himself and adds “You will notice I have an accent. I am Jordanian.” AdventureMan, ever quick, asks him in Jordanian Arabic “From what part of Jordan do you come,” and we all laugh at his utter astonishment. Once we started talking, we never stopped.
We watched otter, and learned how they attach themselves to the kelp so that they don’t drift too far from their food source.
We saw countless birds, and one great-grand eagle. We saw puffins galore. And at the same time, we were having these conversations, figuring out who we knew in common as we are near to the same age.
We had so much fun with this couple that when the wildlife tour ended, we decided to eat lunch together at Captain Pattie’s on the Homer Spit, a place AdventureMan and I have eaten at on earlier trips to Homer. The wife and I had the Alaska King Crab Legs, which were hideously expensive, but not so expensive as I have seen them in other places, and these were perfectly prepared. True Love: AdventureMan knows me to be a frugal woman. He did not bat an eye when I ordered the King Crab.
I know exactly when I last had Alaska King Crab. It was my birthday, many years ago, and my son and I were staying with my parents in Seattle while my husband attended a military school. As we sat down to dinner, suddenly my husband appeared! He had flown in to surprise me! And my mother served King Crab legs with melted butter, and she made a Baked Alaska for dessert. I must have been 30 years old.
We had such a good meal, and such good conversation. Even the wait staff was part of what felt like a great celebration.
After lunch, we headed out to explore downtown Homer. We ended up at the Homer Farmer’s Market, and oh what fun.
We had thought we wouldn’t buy anything, but I found some Spruce Syrup (like Maple syrup, sort of) and we found some barbecue.
Yes, even though we had just eaten lunch, we knew this BBQ was special, and we ordered up two plates and had them wrapped so we could put them in the little refrigerator and have them for dinner.
They were wonderful! I’d like to say we had them on our deck patio, watching the sun go down, but here’s the problem – the sun doesn’t really go down, or it goes a little bit down but not at dinnertime, more like around two a.m. Even then, as you have seen, it is not DARK dark.
It’s hard to settle down for the evening when it is so light out. We go for a walk in the neighborhood, then come back to catch up – me with my photos and notes on the trip, AdventureMan with his reading.
Happy Anniversary, AdventureMan
Today I received this.
At first, I thought it was some friend reminding me and wondered who it was, but I think it is a WordPress function, giving me material to post.
Truly, it’s the whole reason I started this blog, twenty years ago. We are human. We forget. As I read, I was back in that earlier time, early COVID, and I forgot how restricting it was. I had a wonderful, brave real estate friend who showed us houses, and then my sweet daughter-in-law called and said “Are you still interested in THIS house?” It was the house we had sold to them ten years before, but now, with a growing family, they wanted something larger and were happy to sell the house back to us, with one condition – that they inherit the house when we move on. We happily agreed.
And here we are, 6 years later, doing what we love to do – travel, see new things and talk with people. We have had the most amazing adventure, back to Alaska. We love stories, we love to hear how people came here, how people live. Yesterday, we had the joy of finding ourselves on board a small ship with just four passengers, one of whom was a Jordanian man, almost our exact age, and we had so many friends in common, and we had so much fun together.
As he introduced himself to us, he said “You will notice I have an accent, I am from Jordan.”
AdventureMan, always quick, responded in Jordanian Arabic, asking which part of Jordan. The look on the doctor’s face cracked us all up, and from that moment, we were not fellow passengers, but family. We ended up having lunch together after the excursion; we couldn’t stop talking.
Tomorrow, we have dinner with a man I graduated from high school with, lo, those many years ago, and who is, in my eyes, a hero. He is a doctor with his own airplane, and he spent his career flying to outlying Alaskan villages and providing medical services to those who otherwise would not have access.
Life is sweet.
Once I get the photos organized and the trip written up, I will share with you. Meanwhile, thank you, WordPress, for the prompt.
Give to Those Who Ask
Yesterday’s Lectionary readings were rich with wise instructions for navigating complicated situations.
First in Doha, then in Kuwait, and now, too, in Pensacola, we encounter beggers. In Doha, it could be women with babies, kicked out of their homes, or a begger in the middle of the street with a transfusion bag full of blood with an introvenous feed tube, begging for enough money to have the operation he needed for his kidneys (I later learned they were fake). In Kuwait, we had beggers who knew us, and who waited outside our favorite restaurants and we would give them our take-away boxes. In Pensacola, it is the homeless, often military veterans with mental health issues, families without homes, elderly men and women abandoned by the side of the road.
Many treat these people with scorn, insisting they are living like kings on what they scrounge from gullible givers. Some act with compassion, passing out bottles of water and fresh made sandwiches, or passing small bills to those at the corners. Discussion varies little about the “problem;” what is the right thing to do?
Living in the Middle East, I was the recipient myself of kind charity, stuck by the side of the road with a broken car, being given bottles of cold water while a kind stranger changed my flat tire, or a neighbor brought me a platter of leg of lamb and mensaf on an Eid holiday. People invited us into their homes and families. People were kind as I struggled to find words, and helped me understand customs which were strange to me. Charity comes with many faces.
If we are who we claim to be – People of the Book, believers – the answer is clear in this reading from Matthew:
Matthew 5:38-48
38 ‘You have heard that it was said, “An eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth.” 39But I say to you, Do not resist an evildoer. But if anyone strikes you on the right cheek, turn the other also; 40and if anyone wants to sue you and take your coat, give your cloak as well; 41and if anyone forces you to go one mile, go also the second mile. 42Give to everyone who begs from you, and do not refuse anyone who wants to borrow from you.
43 ‘You have heard that it was said, “You shall love your neighbour and hate your enemy.” 44But I say to you, Love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you, 45so that you may be children of your Father in heaven; for he makes his sun rise on the evil and on the good, and sends rain on the righteous and on the unrighteous. 46For if you love those who love you, what reward do you have? Do not even the tax-collectors do the same? 47And if you greet only your brothers and sisters,* what more are you doing than others? Do not even the Gentiles do the same? 48Be perfect, therefore, as your heavenly Father is perfect.
The Things That Matter
Moving to Kuwait was huge, with so many adjustments. As we hunted for a house, we were shown palatial living spaces. One had a big pool as you entered the house – inside the house. One house had an elevator to the three floors. We were shown so many truly amazing places to live.
It was just me, AdventureMan, and our cat named Pete. My husband worked hard. Those houses were just too big for me, and the quieter life I wanted to live, and how would I find Pete hidden in one of those huge houses?
We chose an apartment high on the 10th floor in Fintas, overlooking a beach park, overlooking a wild street, with a 180 degree view of the Arabian/Persian Gulf. There really was never a question. That view took my breath away, and gave me hours of pleasure, watching dhows, watching fishermen, watching people in the park. I called it my Eyrie.
It also gave me a glorious daily sunrise. Every sunrise was different and glorious.
Later, we were able to buy exactly the house I wanted in Pensacola – a house we had owned before, with a view of the Bayou. As a great favor to me, AdventureMan, who never wanted to move again, agreed to move, and together we watch the sun set over the Bayou. Every night we have a sunset. Every night, a different sunset, a different angle, a different color, a different mood. I am grateful for the richness that fills my life every evening when we watch the sun set, and my heart fills with awe.
Stranger in a Strange Land: High School
Today’s writing prompt is irresistible: Something you learned in High School.
I left my US High School mid-year to live in Germany, and to go to a US Department of Defense High School.
I learned that not everyone thinks the same way I think.
I learned that sometimes the way I think might even be wrong, or incomplete.
I learned that even within our own culture, there may be varieties of cultures and many different ways to do a thing, and that none is truly the “right” way, that there may be many right ways.
I learned to lean back and observe, before I ventured an opinion.
I learned to listen when someone said I was wrong. I didn’t have to agree, but it helped to get this other perspective (no matter how mistaken it might have been, LOL)
After high school, I lived a nomadic life, back and forth to university, then marrying a military man and being on the move for the next forty years. Some of my best friends to this day are friends I made during those high school years, people who have led very different lives, but who still share so much in common because of our uncommon heritage and our diverse views. Learning that kind of flexibility eased the way in later life, living in different cultures in Germany, in Africa and in the Middle East and finally, in the Deep South. I’m still learning! 🙏😄🙏
Today in the Strait of Hormuz
When you treat your friends badly and no one comes to help you when you screw up:
Prayer for the Feast Day of Saint Cuthbert
From today’s Lectionary readings:
Merciful God, who called Cuthbert from following the flock to be a shepherd of your people: Mercifully grant that we also may go without fear to dangerous and remote places, to seek the indifferent and the lost; through Jesus Christ our Lord, who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, one God, for ever and ever. Amen.
What Iran and the United States Have in Common
I don’t think I ever met an Iranian woman I didn’t like.
The Iranian women I met – it seemed to me – were all gorgeous. They were educated, and they liked to read books and if you ever want to have a great conversation, look for the Iranian woman. I survived many a stuffy reception, finding intelligent women and talking books, or customs, or history.
So I shudder as I see our forces gathering for a potential strike on Iran.
I get it. Iranian men are smart too, I used to run into them in college, always talking engineering, as in huge national engineering projects, and, way above my head, nuclear physics. They are smart, creative, and great problem solvers.
Here is what makes me laugh. I don’t think the Iranian nuclear threat is the problem. I think Iran is too much like the USA.
Iran has a strong, unpopular leader who is particularly tough on uppity women (do you see where this is going?) and has an economy which is slowly tanking. Iran wants the population to be COMPLIANT and does not like civil protest. Iran is hard on student protestors, but especially hard on non-compliant women.
Our equally unpopular leader, equally chaotic, arbitrary, and cruel, envies the Ayatollah’s theocratic autonomy. Theocracy in Iran has all the power; they can jail people with impunity. They kill protestors with impunity. Not only are they the LAW, but they are above the law.
So how is that working out for Iran? Not so great. It hasn’t worked out so great since the overthrow of the Shah. When people don’t have a voice in how the country are run, they aren’t happy, and unhappy people have ways of resisting, and sabotaging the oppressive regime.
I think that all this massing of power and threatening to invade Iran is a distraction from our own orange leader’s problems with leading. After one year of his leadership, jobs are declining, people cannot afford health care, colleges are afraid to teach critical thinking skills, and we have poorly trained goons and thugs with carte blanche to invade people’s houses, shove demonstrators around, and to kill with impunity. Or at least that is how I see it. I have seen no accountability for the killing of Renee Good or Jonathan Pretti in Minneapolis, nor for the homicides in the “detention centers” which are like huge cattle corrals.
And to what point? As long as the Iranians are increasingly unhappy with their own leader, their leadership has big problems. When the leadership can point their finger at an impending danger caused by an encroaching bully, it rallies the people to the national cause.
Oh, but the power and the might makes the heart beat faster, and what a perfect opportunity to play with all our ships and planes and the great glory of it all, you know, like what happened in Iraq and Afghanistan.
Oh wait! Another similarity! Our leader uses emergency powers because of an ALIEN INVASION! The Rule of Law no longer applies! We are overrun by our roofers! Our gardeners and landscapers! Our waiters! Our housekeepers! Our fruit and vegetable pickers! Our meat packers! Our teacher assistants! Our janitors! Our nursing home care-givers! Our teachers and professors! Our potential citizens, tempest-tossed, waiting by the Golden Door (posted on our Statue of Liberty, welcoming our fore-fathers to this country).
These are not the criminals and rapists our toddler-in-chief tells us he is saving us from; over 90% of those violently arrested and detained are NOT criminals, just people who will work hard to try to provide their family with a living wage and a roof over their heads, and enough food. Many are documented, going through the system. The system is failing them, and failing us, as a country. We are a nation of immigrants.
Like the Ayatollah, our leader seeks total control, including “protecting” our elections – protecting us from voting against him and his politics of hatred, inequality, and humiliation.
Do you think there is a long-term strategy in all this? Do you believe in the Board of Peace as a functional institute? Do you see anything here that is truly in the national interest of the citizens of the United States of America? All I see is a dance of chaos, self-enrichment, self-aggrandizement, vanity, and a grab for all the power.
Autumn Plum Torte
We are watching the farmer’s markets for the first of the Italian plums, those elongated plums that show up around this time of the year. We are getting eager for Pflaumekuchen, or Autumn Plum Torte.
It’s really more like a pie. And I hate to tell you how easy it is to make.
This is my mother’s recipe:
Autumn Plum Torte (Pflaumekuchen)
1/4 Cup Butter
1 T Sugar
1/4 t. salt
2 eggs
1 c sifted flour
10 – 12 purple prune plums
1 c sugar
1 T Flour
Dash nutmeg and cinnamon
1/2 cup half and half
1. Cream butter and sugar, add salt and 1 egg yolk. Blend well, add 1 cup flour, mix well.
2. Press mix into bottom of greased 8” pie pan.
3. Cut plums in half or quarters; place cut side up on top of mix. It is pretty if you make a kind of circular pattern out from the center.
4. Combine sugar, 1 T flour and spices. Sprinkle over plums.
5. Beat 1 egg and 1 white, add half and half, pour over top.
6. Bake at 425 for ten minutes, then turn down to 350 for 40 – 45 minutes, until custard sets and plums are cooked.
The smell as it is cooking is divine. You can serve it in wedges, warm or cold.
You can also double this, and make it in a 9 x 14 pan, to serve to larger groups. It goes FAST!
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