It’s the eve of our departure to Bend and thence to the sunshine in the desert state. As if to give us a good send-off, today was spectacularly clear, no wind, sea like glass. I did a farewell walk on the quay where I was intrigued by a guy in half a wet suit who was packing two crab pots back towards a pickup with a camper. There was also a flat trailer in tow upon which sat a dirt bike and some wheel type apparatus which obviously probably pulled or held the kayak that sat down on the beach. I rounded my lap, headed back down the quay and started back yet again. When I came upon him the second time I just had to ask: “That’s about the most novel way to crab I’ve ever seen. Did you do any good?” “Well thank you”, he replied, adding that indeed, he had caught five crabs “enough for a little snacking on”.
We talked a little and he asked if I lived here. I said “kind of, part time; we have a little park model right up the road and are here when we can be”. He said he envied me; he loves it here and tries to come over from Medford, where he is from, as often as possible. He dives, he crabs, he rides his dirt bike, he rides his regular bicycle, he camps. Wistfully he adds “You’re lucky.” I nod and say “Well, tomorrow we head for the desert for a few months and then we don’t know where. My husband was laid off in September.” We talk about his job a little—he is the maintenance head at a special needs school and never has to worry about layoffs—in fact, also with chagrin, tells me he is hardly even aware of any recession. I guess that’s the way it is for some folks now--those in recession proof industries. I smile and add wistfully, “You’re lucky.”
We talked a little and he asked if I lived here. I said “kind of, part time; we have a little park model right up the road and are here when we can be”. He said he envied me; he loves it here and tries to come over from Medford, where he is from, as often as possible. He dives, he crabs, he rides his dirt bike, he rides his regular bicycle, he camps. Wistfully he adds “You’re lucky.” I nod and say “Well, tomorrow we head for the desert for a few months and then we don’t know where. My husband was laid off in September.” We talk about his job a little—he is the maintenance head at a special needs school and never has to worry about layoffs—in fact, also with chagrin, tells me he is hardly even aware of any recession. I guess that’s the way it is for some folks now--those in recession proof industries. I smile and add wistfully, “You’re lucky.”
