It seems like just a few weeks ago I started my Weblog and yet, when I look back at it, six months has passed. It's astonishing how fast time flies.

This is the month people celebrate Christmas, Hanukkah, and Kwansaa. I think it's interesting that the African candelabra used to celebrate Kwansaa is called a "kinara" which is not that dissimilar in sound to "menorah," the name for the candelabra used in memory of the Jewish victory over the Syrians almost 2200 years ago. Hanukkah is not the primary Jewish holiday of the year but, being close to Christmas, it is sometimes now celebrated with gifts, especially in families with small children.

The picture of the menorah on the left is from a newsletter that was published in Germany until 1932. The photo on the right is a depiction of the birth of Jesus, son of Joseph and Mary, in stained glass, in the cathedral of Saint Sacrement in Montreal, Quebec.

Kwanzaa is an African-American community and family celebration that begins on Dec. 26 and lasts for seven days. It originated in 1966 as a response to the tragic Watts riots and, as such, is a nonreligious holiday. --- Mya

I also like to contemplate the fact that service personnel are overseas fighting for what they believe to be our fundamental rights. I don't understand all the issues involved. I understand the need to prevent and counteract terrorism, but it wasn't Iraq that bombed the World Trade Center, so I'm not sure why we are fighting in Iraq, especially when it was shown that the country did not have weapons of mass destruction. Nevertheless, my support and my heart go out to the individuals who are risking their lives to fight for what they believe are our basic freedoms. I just wish it were over so they could come home and be with their families during the holidays. --- Mya

I think I can say that the story is about a writer without spoiling anything, since you find that out right at the beginning of the movie. However, I can't talk about the rest of it without spoiling it, so skip to the next blog entry if you haven't seen it yet.

I have to admit I was somewhat disappointed with this movie. It wasn't a bad movie. It had all the elements of a good movie. The setting was great, the photography good, the idea of the story interesting enough if handled right, and I thought Johnny Depp did a good job, but ... there was something about the movie that just didn't hit the mark. The dead d__ was kind of a trite and overused device--not very creative and there were other somewhat cliché choices that I thought could have been better. I couldn't entirely put my finger on what it was that bothered me, given that many aspects of the movie were good, but I guess it just didn't stretch quite far enough into new territory to really excite me. Would I watch it again? Probably. It's enjoyable and it's fun for a writer to watch a story about a writer. I guess I'll leave it at that and maybe seek out the story by Stephen King and see how closely the script follows King's original vision. --- Mya

Well, I like surprises. At least, I like fun surprises. Life somethings throws us the other kind, but this one might be all right (and I love ferry rides as long as they're not too bumpy).

Another Journey. When it was time to head for the ferry, I put on comfortable walking shoes (I didn't want another disaster like the one I had on my Thanksgiving turkey hunt). I also brought an extra jacket. It's been raining almost non-stop for the last seven weeks, so I made sure the jacket had a hood.

[Ooops, gotta run. I'll tell you more when I have a free moment. It's a busy time of year.]

Okay, I'm back. I finally found time to Webify my pictures so I could share the journey to my secret lunch.

It was a typical mist-gray, west coast day. I took the marine drive to the ferry, stopping on the way to look out over the water and watch the birds along the coastline diving and beachcombing. A couple of miles before the ferry, I saw this very odd "thing" in the water. I wasn't sure if it was a boat or a small derrick or other sort of platform. I really couldn't tell. I drove closer and hopped out of the car to get a better look.

Platform or Boat? That's when I noticed the "derrick" was moving. Not fast, but fast enough to convince me it was a boat. It didn't look like a boat, however. It didn't seem to have a hull, or at least not much of one. It was low in the water, so low in the back, it didn't clear the water by more than four inches, at most. It looked as though it would tip backwards and sink vertically if anyone walked all the way to the back of the boat. Imagine a wooden raft with masts. Such an unusual boat.

Then I noticed there were two people on board, in mackinaws (is that the right word? a British word for rain jackets?). When the boat came a little closer, I tried to take some pictures. It's hard to see the details, it's so small, but I think they were fisherman and they were intent on something on the deck. The direction they were headed, I'm guessing they were probably on their way home and had perhaps been up since before sunrise.

Strangers at the Pier. I watched the boat quietly move along and then realized I had to hurry or I would miss my ferry. If I missed it, I might miss lunch. I hustled back to the car and stepped on the gas.

When I reached the terminal, a pack of strangers watched me as I pulled onto the old wooden planks. My host was there, but I didn't know most of the others.

After that, I didn't know what to talk about, so I admired the brilliant orange display of fishing floats in the crab pots across the way. The floats were an extraordinary color, glowing like nasturtiums on a bright summer day, in spite of the dull overcast. As I was looking at the crab pots and thinking about how long it had been since I had eaten genuine crab, I was unexpectedly accosted by a jovial native swinging two white plastic bags. He shook the bags and offered to sell me crabs, as many as I wanted. He was very enthusiastic about it.

I love fresh crab and I don't often have the chance to buy it freshly caught.

"How much?" I asked. "Five bucks each," he said and then asked if I wanted them with or without legs.

Something's Fishy. "Oh, oh," I thought. "Crabs without legs?? But, isn't that the best part?" Then I noticed the other members of our party backing off, nervous about the crabs. I began to wonder just when these crabs had been caught. An hour before? A week? They had already been cooked. How long had they sat around before being cooked? I realized there was no way to know.

The others shook their head at the crabs, but I decided to trust the crab seller and buy two with legs. Unfortunately, he didn't have change for a $20 bill (the only thing the cash machine would give me), so I changed my order to one, after digging around in my wallet and finding a fiver. The seller seemed terribly disappointed when I changed my order from two crabs to one but there wasn't much I could do about it because I wasn't willing to pay $20 for two (or even four) unshelled crabs with questionable pedigrees.

Then I saw the ferry pulling up to the dock, so I quickly tossed the crab in the trunk and pulled the car into line (the ferry only has room for a handful of cars).

As I've said several times before, I love ferry rides. This is a pixy ferry, a wee one--it holds only about seven cars. When I was in high school, I rode on a ferry like this in a severe storm. That was an adventure. I'll tell you about it sometime.

It wasn't a long ride and there isn't much room to walk around the ferry, so I stayed in the car and watched the gulls follow the boat. As we neared the dock, I saw birds perched atop each of the piers, like sentinels at the gate. One was keeping company with a red beacon and, by changing the exposure, I was able to capture a silhouette of the bird. I'm not sure of the species, a gannet, perhaps, or a cormorant? I reminded myself to look it up when I got home.

Mystery Destination. By this time, the anticipation was killing me. Where were we going to eat lunch? Was there a grocery store café or Mom-and-Pop soup kitchen near the terminal? Or had our host brought precooked hamburgers and a warmup grill? I was mystified as we started caravanning around to the ocean side of the island. I had no idea where we would end up.

It's such a pleasure to tour the islands in this area. No freeway traffic, no noise, no billboards to clutter the landscape. Paradise. So pretty and restful. No wonder island folk always seem to be in better spirits than people on the mainland.

I was musing about the possibility of moving back to an island (I was born on an island) when the caravan came to a halt in front of a 100-year-old remodeled Victorian house. Was this the lunch spot? Wow. It was a really nice bed-and-breakfast overlooking the ocean. Cool!

The establishment was called the Willows Inn and has apparently been in business since 1912. If you consider that Europeans didn't move into this part of the Northwest until 1853, 1912 is a very old business. The house was a cheerful yellow and the view from the huge deck was gorgeous. I'd love to visit this sometime in the summer and sit outside and watch the boats.

It's a lovely place. There is art everywhere: sculptures outside, paintings inside, and a wonderful fireplace surrounded by cozy chairs. There's also a music system and stacks of magazines--a sit-down-and-stay-awhile kind of a place. After we had had a chance to look around, our host led us into the dining hall and introduced us to the chef. Yes, the chef. Not just a cook, not a hamburger joint, not rewarmed food, but a gourmet dinner. Wow again. I never expected such a lovely setting, such good company, and such a great meal.

A Bellyful of Blessings. Lunch turned out to be incredible salmon and fresh-made pasta. I had forgotten how good fresh pasta tastes compared to dry pasta ( it was ravioli with a fantastic filling). The eggs and greens came from the farm associated with the bed and breakfast and the proprietor had caught the salmon himself through an ancient tradition called false-reef fishing.

I'm very fortunate. Living on the west coast, I've had some very good salmon in my lifetime, but I have to say, this was the best I've ever tasted. It was sumptuous, moist, flavorful. If you love salmon, you would enjoy this, for sure. The Inn apparently ships the salmon, through distributors, all over the world. Some people are willing to pay $40 a pound for the privilege of enjoying it.

I thought the lunch was fantastic and I didn't expect anything more after the pasta, greens, and salmon, but the chef then re-emerged to present a freshly-made chocolate cake with raspberry sauce. I laughed when I saw it. It was decorated with nasturtiums (which you don't usually see in the winter), the same flower that came to mind when I saw the bright fishing floats in the crab pots. These were yellow and orange nasturtiums, not the same color as the floats, but they were lovely on the cake. Did you know nasturtiums are edible? They're good in salads, too.

After lunch, we talked and I asked for a tour of one of the rooms in the bed and breakfast. The upstairs room, overlooking the ocean, is especially nice. Perhaps I should spend a weekend here sometime and stare out the window at the waves and write a short story.

Then it was time to go.

Moments like this are rare indeed and to enjoy it from this tiny island in this beautiful part of the world is a gift for which I can never fully express my appreciation.

All things pass, and as the sun sank and the colors dissolved into the grays of twilight, I returned to the ferry terminal and boarded the little ferry for home. I reflected on what a wonderful day I had--I've had some tough times in my life, some difficult hurdles, and it's nice to know that life sometimes has its compensations. I shall cherish this memory as I will other good moments and remind myself that life is about taking things in stride and appreciating the roses when they bloom.

Oh, I forgot to mention. The crab was excellent. Fresh and tasty--definitely worth the gamble. Maybe I should have bought four. --- Mya

My cat, however, could take a shot at a New Year's resolution. After I rescued him from four months of starvation, when he was abandoned and living off his body fat (he dropped to half of his ideal weight), he developed an eating disorder. Rather than just giving him food in his dish three or four times I day, I was determined to free-feed him so he could eat the amount that was right for his body, rather than eating when it was convenient for me to feed him, but he went a little overboard on bulking back up to his previous size (and then some).

I've had many cats and I free-fed them all. They all turned out healthy, lean, and buff. So I was perplexed when Nabokov ran to the food dish a dozen times a day. He was middle-aged when I found him, and his former owner had clearly left a legacy of a few "undesirable" habits. Taking the food dish away didn't solve the problem. If he was denied food, he turned into weapon-of-mass-destruction-kitty. In other words, this genetically BIG cat would unsheath his BIG claws and make BIG holes in everything in sight. I knew I needed a better solution.

Since I rescued him, three years ago, he's ballooned up from 10.5 pounds to 23 pounds. He's huge--the same length as a racoon, but he's not supposed to weigh more than about 20 pounds for his size. After I took him in and nursed him back to health, it seemed like nothing short of shock therapy (out of the question) could dissuade him from eating constantly. With long-term, patient voice conditioning, however, I've got him down to eight meals a day instead of a dozen (he's lost half a pound), but he still has a way to go. I'll let you know how he does over the next few months.

By the way, this picture was his reaction to me suggesting he go on a diet starting January 1st. No, I didn't pose him like that. He crawls up on the couch and lies on his back as though he's W.C. Fields (all he lacks is the cigar) all by his big self. --- Mya

I've been super busy. I've been gathering things for my book lovers' contests, I've been writing, traveling. So busy. I promise I'll get caught up and upload the rest of my December blog entries soon. --- Mya