A few months ago, reading some old shack poems, I declared, “we jacked that shack level” but I knew our jacking didn’t hold up too long.  And in a few weeks I’ll revisit that far from level shack by the sea, hacking away at brush along the trail and nests and webs in the drafty plywood jewel.  Taking up residence in the shack for a while and very curious to see what rises with the breathing of damp wood, two-cycle, beach mud and coho.   Stay tuned.

Reach out and touch someone....

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