When people ask ,”Are you ok?” it hits me in exactly the same way as the question, “How far are you from the water?” A question with a surprisingly complicated answer.
We live in North Cove, WA – an area referred to as Washaway Beach. When we bought our house in 1992 we weren’t considered Washaway territory. (I’ve heard THAT refrain time and again over the years.) Washaway is an area where the Pacific Ocean curves into Willapa Bay. It’s at this point where major erosion is occurring and has occurred for a very long time. The ocean itself rears up every now and then and comes straight at us out of the west, though this is somewhat the exception rather than the rule. The bay to the south is more a continual threat, becoming dramatic during winter storms. When it happens folks come from miles around to watch the craziness of the sea. There are maps. There are maps of the erosion throughout recent history. There are maps of predicted erosion with dates on them. On most maps, our house is slated to fall into the ocean in 2020.
Back to the distance to the water question: The distance from our house to Willapa Bay (south) – where the erosion is constant – is different from the distance from our house to the Pacific Ocean proper (west). This, and the fact that our beach area is pretty huge … the mean tide line moving back and forth (ok, mostly forth) seasonally, makes it impossible to actually draw a bead on just WHERE the water begins. There’s also properties and woods between us and the beach, and we have to walk on the road to get to the water … like … a bunch of blocks. Not a straight line. So when people ask ( at parties, restaurants, the grocery store ), “How far are you from the water?” I’m stymied. Either that or I give them a much longer answer than they truly want.
From now on I’m going to make up an arbitrary number. I’ll say, “827 feet”.
We don’t want to move all of this stuff, so we decide to put yellow stickies denoting who will get what – on everything. You know? How old people do?
Somehow I got this immune disease the other day. “Are you ok?” I’m FINE. Remember the blue pills? Those things are awful. They give you a big round head referred to as “moon face”. I call it Humpty Dumpy head. They gave me congestive heart failure (which I’m past. I’M OK!) I had to continue on these stupid pills until the next phase which was supposed to happen soon but didn’t.
My insurance got messed up. Bob and I sat down to figure it out. At one point we were faced with the possibility of having to pay out of pocket. We stared at each other. I said, “We could lose our house over this.” Still, the staring. I’m starting to get whiffs of simmering red sauce from a good ol’ Twin Harbors spaghetti feed fundraiser when, suddenly we both cracked up! We’re losing the house ANYWAY … we’re, like, we’re so pathetic!
Eventually the insurance decided I am insured and I moved on to the next step – selecting the right gown. IMMUNO-GOWN had to be perfect. My stepdaughter, Dyan, chose the pink affair.
Multiple treatments meant multiple IMMUNO-GOWN opportunities. After receiving bits and pieces of the blood of thousands of people (whom I personally want to thank … and I do. I thank random strangers), I am finished for the week. On the way home I bought CRAZY groceries! It was as if my coursing blood is replete with a cacophony of cultures, mixing and meshing … turbaned taxi drivers, Samarai warriors, vegan hippie chicks… Relating this feeling to my workout partner this morning, she blurted, “OH MY GOD! YOU’VE DISCOVERED THE KEY TO WORLD PEACE!”
Now we wait and see what my blood will decide to do. I believe my antibodies will listen to reason and once they meet these new platelet receptor-thingies, reason will prevail.
Are you ok? 827! Power through it, Humpy Dumpy.
End of story. Next time, we talk about something else.
Marcy, you have always been a jewel. I am pretty sure the mold was broken after you were born. Your humor, perspective, and attitude – oh, and talent — are quite the combination. I look forward to that bourbon drinking with you.
Mark: Yeah! Let’s bourbon-drink later this fall. I’m sure I’ll be around the Ann Arbor area … maybe October-ish?
Marcy, your awesome and one of a kind. Love your pictures and writing. God bless you
Thanks, Tusdee! Back at you!
Marcy and Bob, when it comes to living on the Edge, Washaway beach is the ultimate of waterfront property, but so much more is the story of life and living and you both have packed so much into that, gowned it paraded it, photographed it! What a blessing we have to have just a little peep into that corner of life that for some is just too much to bear and tell. You give us hope and a blessed friendship from afar and whatever life serves up I know you will meet and greet it with elegance, creative talent and determination, thanks for that, and we wish you well for many years ahead. from your “downunder fans” Judy and Sandy.
Wow! Thanks, Ken, Judy & Sandy! Hey! We might be visiting downunder again next year. I think I still have the koala you gave us way back when in Martinsville.
I must assume that as of 10/1/17 you will 1) still have a house 827 feet from the water 2) still alive and not so differently platleted 3)have answered the question “are you OK? 213 more times than today 4) be ready for a new and different, although not totally intolerable, friend to sit and visit with about nothing in particular and the fate of the modern world as we may or may not see it. That’s right, Judi and I (or me depending on how far you got in school), yep, we are finally moving to Tokeland and our heavenly slice of sand full time. My time is your time Marci. We can start with us bringing dinner to your place and then we’ll figure out what’s next. OK?
Wut wut? You’re MOVING to Tokeland? Ha!
Let’s Washaway the old and let the new platelets rejoice! You are one in a million! A treasure. A tiara wearing kinda of girl! Keep smilin’
Well, your sense of optimism has to have some effect on your being…….may your situation finally stabilize to a degree of continuous comfort. Good Luck. Beth has been keeping me informed about your unusual situation. UL
Beth also identified a barred owl call in our back yard. She’s got so many skills! Thanks for the kind thought, Uncle! I hope you, too, are doing well.
Marcy, Thanks for sharing. I enjoy your “gowns worn inappropriately” photos; they make me laugh, smile, snort and guffaw. So funny. My kind of humor. I LOVE your photography. You are a gifted photographer. And I’ve always wondered about your home, if it was in the path. I’ve been going to the ocean since I was a babe; my parents have a cabin in Grayland. Sending love, positive vibes, good wishes, and laughter — coz that’s what gets us through. Blessings!
Thanks, Paula. It means a lot coming from you! I’m glad I can make you snort and, especially, guffaw!
Oh my gosh Marcy – all that Mark said, and then some! I do hope you bounce back from your immuno-grief so you are healthy and well enough to see your home fall into the sea someday!
Get well soon and pack up your gowns and come on out to Connecticut soon – I’ve got a cigar bar to show you (they have Markie Mark too)!
James & Ellen
PS: Say hello to old what’s-his-face too… hope his Seahawks don’t disappoint too much this year!
Thanks, James! Losing the house … just think of the photo opps!
I’m sure I’ll make it out to Connecticut in the not-too-distant future and will definitely mooch off of you!
Marcy, the news of your situation just reached me. Gads! Today I was officially declared, after 5 years, cancer free. So great things do happen and it will happen to you also. We are in Vancouver, WA., blanketed by ash from the fires. We are on our way back to Palm Springs after my Dr. appt. this morning in Olympia. We won’t be back in the PNW for a year, but if you’re ever down the desert way, stop by. Love.