hoo boy! it's been a busy summer!
Our fledgling organic farm has doubled production this year, and to keep pace with the river of cash it inhales for infrastructure, I've doubled kayak classes and commisions as well. A day in the life currently consists of waking at 6am, working on the computer 'till 8, teaching or building 'till 5, chopping firewood or fixing things until dark, working on the computer more 'till midnight, and then waking the next day to do it all again. I share this with you first to say THANK YOU, to everyone who buys a kayak, builds a kayak, or donates money. Aside from leaving here with an absolutely kick-ass kayak, you are making something amazing happen as well. Gin and I had a five year vision to transform this bare piece of land into a working farm and sustainable living teaching center, and I can tell you that from my vantage, halfway through year four, it looks entirely probable that we will meet that timeline. Our goal is nothing less than showing people that even in a modern industrialized world, we can still choose to live happier, healthier lives, living closer to the land on renewable energy sources without suffering lukewarm showers, flickering lightbulbs, a steady diet of kale, or any of the other horrors that the status quo seems to insinuate would result from a broader application of individuals rejecting industrial agriculture and fossil fuel dependance.
Our noble quest comes with a price these days though, and that cost is an overworked and addled Brian. You won't notice it in a class, but where I fall short of my responsibilities is late at night, when things still look blurry in my reading glasses and I'm staring at a wavvy deluge of emails, the majority of which I have no hope of dispatching in a timely fashion. Chances are you could be one of those people who are wondering what happened to your email and I want you to know that I CARE about your inquiry, and I apologize for any terse replies. Please feel free to pester me if your question is pressing. As long as I'm at it, I'd also like to apologize to all the friends I never call unless I need something, and to anyone else for whom I have or will drop the ball on in the next two months. Case in point, I am writing this presently because I spent the day at the dentist and literally can't do anything else at the moment.
More than anything I miss having time to write stories and take pictures. My own special brand of photos and narrative is one of my favorite things to do and it's been excruciating to let my adventures go undocumented. Take for instance salvaging firewood this year:
I found an enormous curved fir log at the edge of the bay and with the help of my buddy Craig (it was his idea, officer) and two large chainsaws, we sliced it into 12 inch wide, 3 1/2 foot diameter rounds which we rolled with great effort to the tide line and dropped in a long line onto their sides. I laid a rope across them and pinned them onto it with fence staples. We returned at midnight under a full moon with the bay overflowing with silvery black water and not a breath of wind. Bats swooped and coyotes howled in the distance while together we ever so slowly towed the sinuous chain of giant wooden wafers a mile to where we would split them for firewood in the morning. The surreal visual effect was of a winding magic walkway stretching into the distance across the water in the moonlight. I feel so guilty for not having a photo of this to share that I went out and bought a camera with some serious low light firepower just so it doesn't happen again.
All that said, I have been taking a few photos when the opportunity presents, mostly of classes, some of my darling kitten M. Please enjoy them, and I hope to return to my normal narratives this fall. Feel free to come check out the farm if you are in the area, that's why it's here. I have a gorgeous Japanese bath house / passive solar sauna under construction, almost all salvaged, of course.