Serendipity all over again

When I wrote the previous posting, “How Green is my Valley”, I referenced both my old hometown, Kettle Falls, Washington, and a posting by Loren, otherwise known as In a Dark Time. At the time that I read Loren’s weblog, he had mentioned that he was going to be writing a new posting about a county in Washington that’s threatening to shut down it’s library system.

Well, when I checked a bit later to read this new posting, (sorry, no permalinks), Loren started it off with a link to the New York Times Article detailing the story. So I click on it…

…only to find that the county that is trying to shut its library system to save tax money is none other than Stevens County, the county where I grew up. And the byline for the article reads “Kettle Falls, Washington”. In case you’re wondering, no I had not read this article previously; in fact, I choked on a diet Coke when I opened the article page from Loren’s site.

Did I happen to mention to you all that I live in a perpetual state of serendipity? This strangely accidental and beautifully symmetrical happenstance, is a perfect introduction into a new series of weblog postings I plan on writing over the next week: Coming of Age in John Birch Country.

So, stay tuned over the next several days as I introduce you all to the town and county that would shut its libraries to save some bucks. Join me as I explore the gold mines, the racism, the buried money, and the tragedies, legends, and beauty of a small town located forty miles from Idaho, forty miles from Canada, and forty years out of time.

BTW — I knew the Frostad’s.

Update: Nothing like having MeFi going after Kettle Falls and Stevens County. This is almost like opening up MetaFilter and finding them discussing your Mom or Dad or grandparents. What’s interesting is that many of the thread sound more like past citizens of Kettle then myself…

RDF Writing

Break time

Break time on the book. I’m currently working on the RSS chapters, and haven’t I been careful when discussing the history of RSS. I’m also finding that I like the RDF working group’s new specification split. Either I’m getting a feel for their reasoning or I’m getting rummy from trying to meet an editorial mark Monday evening. Either way, it works.

You hate cat pictures? Hate really cute cat pictures? Then don’t go here (thanks to Head Lemur for heads up). Speaking of cat pictures, I’m still waiting patiently for cat pictures from someone in the community who shall go nameless (but you know who you are).

Dave helped Tara Grubb with a new web site, URL to be announced. I think this was a nice thing to do, but paused over:


As I was putting together the initial blogroll, I decided to link to Howard Coble, her opponent. I wondered how Tara would feel about it. I just walked her through the new site, and when I explained this part she literally shreiked with delight.



I’ve started my own process of determing my vote. For senator, I’ll most likely vote for Jean Carnahan, though I don’t care for the widow rule, myself. However, she’s preferable to James Talent, and the Libertarian candidate Tamara Millay is stressing the rights of citizens to bear arms a little too much for my taste (and the balanced budget amendment has no place in the Constitution). Her position on the issues (Tara, you need one of these) has good points, but they seem to lean a little heavily on the side of the Social Darwinists for my taste.

Frankly, none of the candidates is a blinding flash and a defeaning roar. (We’ll see how many old time SciFi readers there are in the audience.)

You know, if I lived in one place long enough, I think I’d run for Congress. No, seriously. I’m fairly confident that no party would have me, but I could have such fun in Congress!

Just think of the possibilities….

(And on that note, back to the book.)

Just Shelley

Nuff Nuff

I want to play. Really play, without deadlines hanging over my head. Without holding up long suffering editors. Free. Clear. Really play.

For instance, lots of talk about Jaguar and I want to install this on my PowerBook. And I want to wipe my Dell laptop clean and re-install Red Hat sans the dual boot with Windows 2000. I want to finally make the move to non-Windows (though I’ll most likely install Virtual PC and Windows 2k on the Mac).

And I want to finish up ThreadNeedle and the new Here’s My List application. Why? Because I want you to play, and me to be finished. Boy, you don’t know how much I want to be finished. The code doesn’t flow from my fingers; it drips out, line by line.

I want to read the books you’ve recommended to me, and I also want to read or re-read every book (well, almost every book) on the ALA banned book list, and contribute my part to the Banned Books Project. After all, considering my upbringing, I have a moral obligation to get involved.

And I want to write about my hometown. There’s stories in that little town, more than you can see in the New York Times article, though this might give you an glimmer of what one can expect.

I want to write about the bride buried on her wedding day and the gold mine abandoned so quickly, rusted tools are still stuck in the wall. And I want to tell you the tale of the crazy old man who killed my Dad’s partner with a shotgun when they went to the shooter’s cabin. Or about the fences with signs saying “Trespassers will be shot”, posted by people who mean every word.

I want to describe nights filled with the cry of cougars, and the scream of prey. And to tell you about the ghost cat who lived on an island in the lake.

To share with you moments such as walking through fruit trees with my gentle Welsh grandfather, him picking a peach from a tree and cutting slices with his pocket knife to give to me. Biting into sun warmed fruit, juices flowing down my chin as I meet the smile in his eyes.

Perhaps I’ll write it as an online book, as others have considered or started. Doesn’t this sound like fun?

Okay. Shelley’s reached a book burnout moment. Yup, all the symptoms are there.

I’ll be good tomorrow, but for tonight, I’m going to bed early and cozy up with the Sportswriter. Oh, and a book, too. To read.