My dream

This is my first attempt at a crocheted oval rag rug.  Good enough to wipe our feet on when we come in the door.  Finally found something to use up the old sheets and towels.

I have a recurring dream about something that has troubled me for at least three years.  For four summers Bill and I went to a gold prospecting camp in Alaska.  It was pretty primitive, and cost us a bit of time and money, but we enjoyed ourselves (totally).  We had to pay close to a thousand dollars each, and pay for our own airfare, and we were there for seven weeks.  That meant finding someone to stay with our dogs and garden, but we managed.

We worked to make the paying participants as comfortable as possible, and help them find gold.  Bill worked on the beach, and I cleaned the washrooms and cabins.  In my free time I took pictures of wildflowers, and animals that wandered past.  (Fox, muskox, moose, cariboo, and rarely a bear.)  The facilities were primitive, but we loved it!

Then...out of the blue, we got a letter saying that our services were no longer needed.  They had changed how they were running the camp, and they didn't need as many workers anymore...we didn't make the cut.

I cried for months, but figured that maybe the next summer we would get to go back.  I wrote and asked for work applications, and never heard a thing.  Friends who were still going up there had no idea why we hadn't been selected, and told us that there had been no bad things said about us.

I have requested an explanation from the directors of the camp several times: Did we do something wrong?  Were there complaints from anyone?  Can we do anything to correct things? I have never received an answer.  It's almost like talking to a brick wall.

One of my friends from the camp notified me that she missed us and asked us to try to apply again.  She sent me a copy of the application that she had received, and said to fill it out and send it in. 

In my dream, I  am   confronting the camp manager and asking him why we can't work there anymore, and he ignores me.  It is as if I'm invisible, and aren't there. Sometimes we are at the camp, but sometimes were at a meeting in a convention center.  I always wake up frustrated and angry.  Not having answers to my questions and not knowing WHY.

I'm sure that we won't be going to the camp again this summer, because there is a reason we haven't been asked back...I just don't know what it is.

'Til later....

Family History

 

 Remember back last September when I was complaining about the work I had ahead of me with the family pictures?

This weekend my three cousins, two sisters-in-laws and sister all joined me to get it all sorted. 

We divided them into the Sheffer side (my Mother's) and the Lund side (my Dad's).  We scanned them into my computer and everybody got to take a thumb drive home with them.  It took us three days to get it accomplished, but it was very rewarding.

Claire brought all the notes that her brother (now deceased) had made while doing the geneology for the Sheffer family.  Included was a journal from our great-great grandfather when he was doing missionary work for the Mormon Church.  He traveled all around California and helped found the town of Port Townsend, Washington.  What a great find.

It sounded like we were having a religous experience with all the "OH MY GOD"s we were exclaiming.  Poor Jan kept appealing to the heavens whenever she came upon an old photo with no name:  "Please tell me who you are!!"

Altogether, we had a blast!

'Til later...