âAs adults, our only goal should be to help inspire our youth, not protect our comfort zone out of fear and self-centered closed-mindedness.â
On Saturday, I attended my sonâs AAU basketball game at Riverside Middle School.
What was the Seattle Seahawks âbrain-trustâ thinking (and I use the term loosely) when with 26 seconds left and a mere three feet from a second straight Super Bowl victory, a risky pass play was called?
Talk about the thrill of victory and the utter agony of defeat. Defeat snatched from the jaws of victory and I donât feel so good myself.
My stomach hasnât churned with angst and despair like that since Colville High came up inches short of a Class 1A championship several weeks ago in the Tacoma Dome.
I. Me. Mine. No, this is not a Beatleâs song (though I bet itâs stuck in your head now). Itâs just the subject that most of us are centered on, myself included. Itâs an easy theme to get caught up in. Weâre all making our way, wondering how we are going to keep doing so, second guessing ourselves, failing, trying again, etc.
Self-centeredness seems especially popular now, when you live in an age where we think posting photos of our dinner and broadcasting that we are going to the gym on social media are somehow newsworthy occurrences. But hey, everyone to his or her own news feed.
I am not a sissy la-la. Or at least, I like to think I am not. Having a nurse for a mother and being raised in a place where your playpen consisted of mud pits, I donât get weirded out by blood and dirt. Snakes? I find them fascinating. Bugs? Pretty hardy critters themselves (the nuclear holocaust may wipe us off the map like a magic marker on a dry erase board, but cockroaches will live on). True, I donât get excited at the prospect of running into one of those dog-sized rats I saw in Italy, but thatâs why man created the .22.
I canât lie, good readers, I was simultaneously delighted and a bit disappointed that the pitchforks and torches got left at home (or at least in the pick-up truck) at the last two Coffee with Sophie sessions. After all, itâs hard for a girl to get cute cardigans over Teflon body armor and not look like you are carrying around that extra bulk.
Several days ago, elected officials from Stevens County traveled to Pasco to sit in on a meeting of the nine-member Washington State Fish and Game Commission. Also in attendance at the meeting was Hunters-area farmers and sheep-herders, Dave and Julie Dashiell. Unless youâve been living off the grid, you probably know that the Dashiellâs lost at least two-dozen dead sheep (confirmed) to wolves. The bigger story is that this long-time area family is still missing upwards of 300 sheep.
The next big thing: Konjac
A lot to talk about this week
The high school sportsâ season(s) got underway with Friday Night Lights and Friday Afternoon Sunshine from outposts like Hunters and Incheliumâto Kettle Falls and Colville.
From my cheap seat, all I have to say is itâs about time.â As an unabashed sports fan of the mostly college and high school persuasion, I have been eagerly awaiting the start of high school sports. Yes, it tends to ratchet up my workload exponentially, but thatâs okay. What else am I going to do? Itâs all about being a good sport all ways and always being a good sport.
Letâs talk about sexual orientation.
For those of you who I havenât immediately lost to another section of the newspaper, thank you for staying with me. I mean no rudeness, crudeness, or offense. But weâre all adults, and I would like to write about an issue that has been nagging at me for a while now.
Marriage has always been like my own personal Sasquatch. Do I really believe in it? Iâve fluctuated between âYes, Iâve seen the proof!â to âNo, if you examine the footage closer you will see thatâs actually a dissatisfied couple in a gorilla suit.â Other times, I have simply been awed and inspired by otherâs commitment to the Love Kool-Aid and their fondness and respect for their partner as they take the ride called life together.