MORGAN'S MOMENT...
It’s sunrise time in the valley…
    light creeping down the hills
    soon to flood the valley floor.
My sleep-blurred head adjusts
    recognizing I’m in Oregon
    rather than at Puget Sound.
It’s a celebration day…
    a very special “moment”
    another college commencement.
We’ll get haircuts for this day
    and dress up a little
    and go early to sit and wait.
How many times we’ve done this
     With “Pomp and Circumstance”
     playing like a jammed CD.
Memories appear like pop ups
     my graduations and Jean’s
     our kids and now theirs.
It’s not an event you’d attend
     except for that special one
     you’ve never ceased to cheer.
It’s commencement day…
     sunrise time in the valley
     a moment I don’t want to miss.
— Art Morgan 

BOOK CORNER
I finally finished David McCullough’s, “John Adams.” It could only have been written because of the great numbers of letters written between Abigail and John during his many and long absences. The politics of debate and rancor as a new democracy struggled into existence sounds like today. There was a sniping press even then. No Tim Russerts, alas. A remarkable book in which John Adams and Thomas Jefferson both die on the 4th of July. We wouldn’t have Independence Day without them. If people were to read only one book of American history, this should be the one.  Our streets in Corvallis are named for Presidents. I’m going to nod my respect every time I cross “Adams.”
•
MOMENT MINISTRIES
June 15, 2008
home address:  25921 SW Airport Ave.
Corvallis, OR 97333   541-753-3942
email at a-morgan@peak.org
WEATHER REPORT     Cold and often wet!

BOAT REPORT    “Say Yay!” was launched on a high tide and is happily anchored. Only three sails in three weeks, but that will soon change.

VISITOR REPORT        One of our pleasures is sharing the water, view, and unique cabin (camp?) life with family and friends. The first visitors this summer came in the midst of one of the worst storms we’ve experienced in that place. High winds howled and rain blew in sideways.     But that did not deter Doug and Amy Bland. It was their first time. They live in Tempe AZ and came from 105 degrees to our 55 degrees! We had good talk as wind blew. Their cabin stayed cozy and they didn’t freeze. Morning allowed time for them to walk and take a canoe ride. It was their honeymoon. Another memorable “moment.”

RELAYS FOR LIFE    It has been our habit for eight years now to participate in The Relay for Life fundraiser for the American Cancer Society. We usually walk in Corvallis, Tacoma and Gig Harbor events.
    We walked in Tacoma last week with the Tacoma Prostate Cancer Support Group. Hundreds of people. A million dollars. A festive occasion. It’s great to be a survivor.
    We will attend a fundraising spaghetti feed at Tide’s Tavern in Gig Harbor this Monday, and then walk in the Gig Harbor Relay for Life on Friday.
    When in residence I attend the Tacoma support group. I sit in on the Steering Committee when I can and participate by email otherwise. It’s an educational and inspiring activity.
SPEAKING OF FAITH    Bill the bread man showed me a newspaper article, “Can you believe this?” Some governor (South Carolina) wants “I Believe” license plates with a cross. Bill thought it weird. We proposed other possibilities. “I Think” or “I Doubt” or “I Question.”
    It’s not illegal or bad to have belief and faith. The problem I have with what most people call “belief” is that it is applied to matters that really deserve more thought. I had a friend who always said the belief was highly over rated.
    I don’t know whether they believe in religious diversity in South Carolina or freedom of religion(s). I suspect some would fight from freedom from religion.
    In Oregon we can choose a green tree or Crater Lake or a salmon on our license plates. I like our choices just fine.
•
 
                                                                                     (back page)

MY SHOPPE

        I have a “Shoppe” here at the cabin. I misnamed it long years ago when I thought it would be a high class place in our camp. It should actually be called “Chaos.” There is only one small patch of floor with room for me to stand.
        So I stood in that spot and tried to figure where all that stuff had come from and whether I was going to get it put in order this summer as I had vowed to do last summer. An unfulfilled vow.
        You need a lot of tools when you have three bunkhouses and a cabin, a bath house for toilet and shower, 100 stairs to the beach, two dinghy’s, two kayaks, one sailing dinghy, a canoe in addition to “Say Yay!” our sailboat moored out on its anchor. There are trees all over the property that shed limbs at will and sometimes fall on one of our 8 or so fragile, tin-roofed structures.
        It was simpler when we first began using the place. One old cabin and an outhouse up the trail. There was no electricity so modern tools were out of the question. We didn’t even have a chain saw. Our main building was done with hand saws, hammers and nails. All structures were planned with 8’, 10’, or 12’ dimensions to eliminate sawing. A level, square, hammer and nails were basic tools. A shovel was the other major tool. No need for a “Shoppe.”
        Emerging from my self-created chaos, I decided to count my tools. I’m embarrassed. It’s almost as bad as the day I counted my shirts.
        I know guys that have very orderly and neat garages and shops. I’m always suspicious that they don’t do anything, or else that they do one thing at a time, putting tools away when done.
        Let the count begin. On the back wall I have two jig saws. Why two? There is my corded drill and also my battery drill. There’s my SawsAll. That’s a tool I should have had before last year. It’s too new to have a proper place in the Shoppe. The circular saw is the first tool I bought when we got electricity. There’s a soldering iron that I don’t use. I notice two crowbars, a long digging bar, a variety of wrenches and screwdrivers. 8 screwdrivers! I hardly ever use them. A tire inflator for the boat trailer after it sits all winter. House jacks. Three chain saws, one electric. I know I’m past 15 and haven’t uncovered everything. What’s that thing? Oh, my come-along for pulling things too heavy for me. There’s a battery charger in there too.
        Stepping outside I check tools leaned up against the cabin for the summer. A weedwacker (actually 2 but one doesn’t work), an electric pole saw (a small chain saw on an extension pole), a manual limb-trimmer, a hedge trimmer, and numerous hand tools from another era.
        This sounds like a cabin inventory that I should keep for insurance purposes.
        I didn’t realize that putting in electricity would lead to all of this. My granddad used to keep all he needed in a tool box that he carried on the streetcar when he went out to work on his rentals. In fact he made us tool boxes when we were very young boys. His outdoor work tools fit easily into a shed or could be stood up against the house someplace. It’s easier to be neat if you don’t have so much stuff. And you don’t have much stuff if you don’t have electricity.
        Of course I could build a bigger “Shoppe.” It’s the American way, isn’t it? Or maybe it’s human nature to build another barn. My other choices are to organize what I have. Or get rid of stuff that I’m not going to use. That’s risky because I’ve learned that the thing I just got rid of is the very thing I need right now. Alas. Is there anyone who needs that old sump pump?
        Those tools have a history. Many stories. From “what’s that for, grandpa?” to watching grandchildren learn to use those tools themselves. I marvel that they can rummage around in my Shoppe and come out with a needed tool. Maybe I better not change things around too much. They will take up my tools as I took up my granddad’s and add others not yet dreamed of.
        Let it be recorded that Jean has her tools as well. She also uses many of mine, as do the other girls. You should see her with the splitting maul. Or the electric chain saw! But she doesn’t mess with my Shoppe.
─ Art Morgan, June 2008