Our Secret Society

Writing and maintaining a regular blog can be difficult.  Before I post anything I write, I ask myself a series of questions: “Is that giving away too much?” “Does that expose her?” “Will he be mad?” “Will she understand that?” “Is that too much detail?”

Sometimes I go back and delete (even after it’s been posted) and sometimes I just scratch the whole idea and go with something else. One never wants to come off as whining or complaining, either. Hey, we come from hearty commercial fisherman immigrant stock. We don’t whine, complain, or blame others. We pick ourselves up and soldier forward no matter what (at least, that’s what we try to do).

Anyway, everyone knows that my three-year-old daughter’s pneumonia encountered a sudden complication a week after we thought she was well. The complication isn’t a good one. Nobody can come over, and we can’t go anywhere. It’s like we have dropped off the face of the earth, except for visits to the doctor.

We even talk in a quicker and quieter manner, like we’re conspiring or up to something illegal. Here’s an example of a phone conversation I had just today:

“What do you need?” my mom asked quickly.

“I’ll make a list.” I whispered. “I’ll seal it in an envelope. I’ll tape it to the front door. The envelope will be labeled ‘Mom’.”

An hour later, I left the house to go to the doctor. When I returned, I saw that the goods had arrived. White plastic bags lined the front porch.  A glance inside one of the bags confirmed my suspicions: cheese, eggs, milk, and one chocolate cake. Exactly as I suspected.

A tan-colored Jeep pulls in the drive. I spot it from my dining room window. Later, I go to a different window and look outside to confirm that a new bag has been succesfully delivered. Indeed, it hangs innocently from the knob to our front door. Just as I suspected: treats and favors from a good friend’s birthday party Eva recently missed. 

I expect that George will be wrapping up the Dungeness crab season very soon. If you’re thinking it was a short season, you’re right. I must say I’m not unhappy to see at least one part of this weird season come to an end.

Steaming full-throttle ahead….(although to where, I’m not exactly sure!)


  1. Thanks very much! Your comment meant a lot to me because I actually don’t feel brave at all. I’m even starting to fear each day, as I don’t know what more is going to be waiting around each bend! It helps to write and then read comments like yours.

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