Myself, the S.O., two dogs and a coworker will pile into the Soob on a mad dash (after work) tomorrow to the Kenai Peninsula for one of my favorite summer hunting/gatherings activities: digging razor clams.
And what's a mere 600 miles, anyway?
Digging clams beats fishing for a number of reasons, mostly because they are a heck of a lot easier to get and require nothing more than an enthusiasm for playing in the mud and a clam shovel.
It's been a bit tough to post lately, what with the 1.5 job thing. But a synopsis of all the posts I'm not writing:
The world continues to flumox, amuse and depress, does it not? At the CabinDwelling Compound, beer has served as a remedy of sorts on several occasions. There was the 'Someone Gave us Half a Half Barrel of Silver Gulch' celebration, followed by the 'We Still Didn't Manage to Finish Off The Keg Somebody Gave Us' get together, followed by the 'Significant Other's Birthday' fete.
Besides beer drinking, numerous attempts have been made at the Chicken Coop to Be site. (Attempts made without beer involved for safety reasons.) It's a fixer upper project which means that we'll spend more time fixing it than would be required to just build a damned new one. If we were sensible, we'd just knock the whole thing down and start from scratch. I planned to just nail a few pieces of scrap wood here and there to the frame to make it stable enough to hold press plates and chicken wire. (And keep the birds in. And not collapse on them and kill them before we do.)
Thanks to the delays, (and there are always delays in construction, whether it is half-assed construction like I practice, or the professional kind) - it is getting late to get chicks. After all the talk of our planned Great Chicken Massacre of 2007 - it turns out we might not actually raise them.
The S.O. has suggested a substitute for chickens: Rabbits. I believe I agreed sometime around 1 a.m. to the idea and now face the possibility that we will be killing bunnies this fall. I'll cook rabbit, but I'm not killing any. And yes, there is a story behind that.
But must run off, have to pack up the Soob for two frenetic days of digging razor clams and trying to find a place to fish not entirely overrun by tourists.
Photo above found at http://wdfw.wa.gov.