Five months, a half dozen doctors, and every single dime I've ever made later, the tests are still ongoing. To quote my cardiologist, "There is definately something wrong with you, we just don't know what yet." To which I had to resist the temptation to answer, "Have you met me? Anyone could tell you that." I'm pretty sure that if I ever do keel over my final words will be some sort of wise crack.
One thing they don't tell you about being sick is that life doesn't just stop and play a little violin while you suffer, you still have to do things. Pain becomes a companion, molding you, shaping you, compelling changes that you could have never made otherwise. I've been meditating every day, cooking every meal, working on Lee's new restaurant, making instructional videos, broadcasting live webisodes of me building things, designing a brand new website, building commissions, working on a new row boat design, building an outdoor kitchen for the farm, fishing, whitewater kayaking, salvaging wood, and running on the beach. Every moment of productivity an act of open defiance against the tyranny of this stupid mystery sickness. I will win.
The new site will feature professional photography, a live shop cam, and an all around sharper look and feel.
Me talking about the Japanese Forest House click here
Me talking about the off-grid farm, and building kayaks click here
On one of the flattest days I've ever seen on the Pacific ocean, myself and crew dropped some crab traps and headed out to explore the sea caves of Neah-Kah-Nie mountian. A death trap at even a small swell, under these conditions we ventured into passages that I'd never even explored. Ghosting down a passage in the darkeness "Bang!" my kayak struck an object and I let out a startled yelp. "What the hell was that?' my buddy called. "I don't know," I replied, "I think it's a log." I pushed the thing and it moved, and then leaned down and inspected it by braille. The fuzzy surface spoke of a mighty battering, but what struck my curiosity was how high it floated, almost half out of the water. "It's got to be cedar, and dry." I explained in the dim passage. "I need to see this thing, lets throw a rope on it." Very slowly I towed the monolith into the light, the butt of a log, about 9 feet long, 24-40 inches around, about a ton, cedar.
"Lets see if we can move it." a proposition that any normal friends would balk at, but Don possesses a stalwart tenacity that makes me look like a slacker, which makes us a dangerous pair. An hour and a half a mile later Don abandoned me to go look for the rest of our friends, which is when I should have done the same had I not been captivated with two poisionous thoughts:
1) I found this in a SEA CAVE, I'll never have a chance like this again.
2) I'm already a quarter of the way there.
Did I mention this was my first time in a sea kayak since the injury? Not exactly tip top conditioning, even if I wasn't towing this behemouth. At the 1/2 mark I realized I'd made a terrible mistake. The wind picked up, I was desperately hungry and thirsty. I imagined myself dragging a sarcophagus through desert sands. I simultaneously knew that I could not do this, and also that I would. At hour three my friends passed me, wisely assigning themselves to pulling crab pots and starting the fire, and I found myself alone again. I cursed the bastard thing, trudging bitterly onward. When I finally released it to let the small surf carry it onto the beach it had been 4 hours, and 2 very long miles.
Hi, my name is Brian, and I'm a steehead-aholic.
I milled my best kayak-salvaged logs, old bridge timbers, anything beautiful with a story. The idea is to create an interior as local and unique as the food she serves. The doors on the space opened today, giving me exactly 45 days to get it done. I've never built a restaurant interior before, but I have this disease called self confidence that gets me into all sorts of trouble.
All is not lost though. We've taken the video to another site, this time with a more modest goal, because to be truthful, even with this money Lee is going to be bootstrapping her way into the business. I never ever use my website to push or peddle anything, but in this one instance I'm asking you to consider making a donation to Lee and the restaurant. A talented young chef serving people healthy local food, I can't think of a better cause.
View the video here
If we can draw wisdom from our furball friends, it would be that our only real job in life is to Be, and to Grow.
...well that, and to bite the shit out of things that upset us, but I wouldn't recommend the last part.