Author: Moonling

We (mostly I, ever the planner) often speculated about our future. What would he or I do if the other died first? The big question was always, “Would we move to town for greater access to activities without the 40-minute drive?”  This idea was even a consideration if, as a couple, we found driving or taking care of our home and yard difficult. Then last February I vividly remember saying to him, “Why would we move to town? We have this house just the way we want it?” Our kitchen is easy to work in. He has installed fun quirky things at my request such as towel racks made from scrap pipes in the bathroom inspired by the Olympic Club women’s restroom. Shelves and tables he custom-built to fit small spaces and hold our drinks, glasses, and phones while we play Wingspan. A bin to hold our yoga mats made with salvaged maple flooring and clothesline cord. An outdoor clothesline on pulleys because I LOVE to hang laundry from the porch like they did in the “old days.”  Cork floor installed back in 2011, which is when he had his first and ONLY symptoms of coronary artery disease. Solar panels on the roof. His shop where a collection of cast-off power tools are shared with our local community. Even a foundation high enough (hopefully) to be above ANYTHING the Chehalis River can throw at us as we’ve raised it not once, but twice, and can now easily access the under belly of our house.

This house and farm, where I have lived for 42 years, is a comfort to me – filled with so many fond memories of the life we built together.

Bonus photo: Gregory hung the pepper necklace on the osprey to dry.  It was some days before I noticed.

Life as a Semicolon

The website of Project Semicolon reads, “A semicolon is used when an author could have chosen to end their sentence, but chose not to.” To me, this is kind of a metaphor for life. So often when we encounter difficult situations, it can appear easier to dismiss them or push them aside, but like when we write, we can choose to apply a semicolon to our lives and continue on. More on this in a minute.

Bets, Gregory, Miles and I – we four shared so many adventures together. Along the way, G introduced me to cryptic crossword puzzles.  A cryptic puzzle is a crossword puzzle in which each clue contains another level of word puzzle. They are freaking hard, and especially at first, only felt possible when we worked on them together. We kind of had to sneak away to pursue this nerdy passion, stealing time from group activity, mechanical pencils in hand, avoiding the (semi) good natured eye rolling of our respective partners. Our favorite puzzles always contained this sentence in their instructions: “As always, mental repunctuation of a clue is the key to its solution.”

The last puzzle we did together was completed on the night he left us. Throughout that day, we texted back and forth madly with various clue revelations, and at one point he left me a message:

And just before 6 p.m., we finished.

So where does the repunctuation metaphor come in? I choose not to end the sentence that included G. I will apply the semicolon to try to make sense of life and continue on. I’ve solved my first puzzle alone in honor of G and our shared wacky hobby; it was extra freaking hard and took a long time. I like to think that when I filled the last squares, he sent me a cosmic “bravo” and a high five.

Ami

A rare photo of these three fun guys (1 fungi x 3) at Chris’s daughter’s wedding in Chico summer of 2023.

The writings in the tab at the top of this website are a result of many long hours Gregory put into a class he took from his long time friend Keith Eisner in the fall and winter of 2024/25.  He put many long hours into getting his thoughts on paper and got immense satisfaction in sharing the process with his classmates.