Every year about this time crocuses and daffodils pop their heads up through the soil. Robins start showing up in huge flocks to snatch worms drawn to the earth’s warming surface. And, people — children and adults — start playing on Vashon Park District fields. Or, as some would express it — sliding into home base with one eye on the dirt.
K2 Shared facilities already exist Steve Abel, in his column in last week’s Beachcomber (“K2: Let’s think in terms of…
Vashon Island School District is facing one of its toughest budget crises in years. Due in part to a significant…
First, let me make it clear that the Vashon school board didn’t ask me to write this. The Beachcomber did. I’m not speaking for any board member but myself.
When I first came to live on Vashon, my attention was absorbed by the woods, filled with lush plants and abundant wildlife. Glancing at the beach, usually from a car window, I saw rocks, sand, water, sea stars, clam shells. Sort of a damp desert, I assumed, under constant assault by cold water, wind, periodic drying out, summer heat and winter temperatures below freezing.
OK, Vashon, it is time to show that vision thing, thinking outside the box, the “keep Vashon weird” spirit.
Not a day goes by without my wife Christel and I telling each other how lucky we are to be living on beautiful Vashon Island. Friendly, supportive people with varieties of nationalities, religious beliefs, no prejudice.
I used to call our dog Terri the Terrific but Sometimes Terrible Terrier.
Now I call her Slumdog Millionaire.
In some ways, it’s a radical notion to suggest abandoning the stretch of Dockton Road that runs along Tramp Harbor and turning it into a promenade for pedestrians and cyclers. In other ways, it makes all the sense in the world.
A significant grassroots effort, spearheaded by Vashon and other ferry-served communities, culminated last week.
I was starting to give up on that old greenhouse; a 25-by-50 foot patchwork of old windows and scrap wood built by the former owners of the farm.
As the big leaf maple pollen settles in a fine layer of yellow dust on everything, it signals that the cornucopia of spring edibles has arrived.
Vy Biel, the owner of The Country Store, called The Beachcomber recently with an interesting observation. “It’s not enough to buy locally,” she said. “We have to create locally.”
