If you believe that buying locally is the same thing as shopping at Thriftway, then please read on.
June, with graduations and weddings and the garden’s demand for attention, is the calendar’s metaphor for a homemade jar of jam. You take the barely ripe fruits of your labors, give them a grand push of formality, endure the heat of an impossible schedule and an expensive, dizzying list of to-do’s and cross your fingers the finished product achieves a “successful set.”
Freshly graduated seniors have already heard their last high school bell and are steeling themselves for the next and often final phase of their education. Juniors, like myself, are anxiously awaiting their ascension to the apex of the high school pecking order next fall, all the while wondering how they managed to become the upperclassmen they looked up to just months ago.
In light of this hallowed rite of passage, an examination of the oft-misunderstood role of youth seems relevant.
I’ve always gravitated toward animals; as a kid I was the one who brought home skinny stray cats and flea-infested dogs. As an adult, I’ve rescued countless feral cats from the Central District of Seattle, where we used to live. When we moved our family to Vashon years ago, it was natural for me to volunteer for Vashon Island Pet Protectors (VIPP).
It’s too early for The Beachcomber to weigh in on the merits of the three proposed renovations to the school district’s aging campus — different options that the district plans to take before voters over the next several months. It’s not too early, though, to take note of the sorry state of Vashon High School (VHS) and urge others to do so as well.
When I arrived at Sunrise Ridge the other evening for a meeting at the conference room, I was greeted by the “thwack” of baseballs being hit by little bats and the usual encouragement voiced by families and friends out to support the kids.
There’s a lot of activity in our school district right now. We are nearing the end of a very successful year. However, because the budget continues to be a problem to solve, I want to take some time to share what is happening with next year’s funds.
It was 22 years ago that I gave it to him for Father’s Day. I wrote it and framed it of my own accord.
We at The Beachcomber are going to take a moment to indulge in shameless self-promotion. Under the heading that we buy the ink and every now and then get to use it to call attention to ourselves, we want to highlight the three “special sections,” as we call them, that have been published almost back to back by our small, hard-working staff.
It’s a cold, dreary, rainy “June-uary” Friday, and I’m sitting here obsessing about summer water limits in Vashon’s Water District 19. I suppose I’m one of the few Islanders who appreciates June rainfall. I like rain even more in July, August and September. Because when it rains in the summertime, Islanders don’t water their grass, landscaping or crops as much. And that means your water district is more likely to be able to come up with enough water to meet your peak day demand.
We have found ourselves in an exciting position — adjacent to the future Vashon Allied Arts (VAA). With the promising development of the purchase of the McFeed’s property, VAA, it seems, is poised to grow into the physical manifestation of its ongoing role as the center of the Vashon arts community.
Most of us are aware of Cindy Sheehan’s activism against the war in Iraq and the very public stand that she took in Crawford, Texas, camping out next to President George Bush’s ranch and confronting the president’s support for the war.
I grew up in a suburb north of Chicago where one could find every kind of restaurant, from the noisy hustle and bustle of Andy’s Hamburgers to the elegant and music-filled atmosphere of San Pedro’s at Theatro de Lago.
