I’m really not sure of the future of this blog/website. When I first started this website it was just after the family had moved to Alaska and I wanted a way to share our adventures with our families down in the lower 48.

That was over 10 years ago now. Since then a lot of things have changed, for us, and technology. Now it’s nothing to have a Facebook page, a twitter account, Google+, picasa, etc. There are lots of ways now to share information with others. Ways that we had no idea were coming down the line.

Even this website has moved around. At first I paid a monthly fee to have it hosted by Pairnic, where I had my own little linux server running httpd, then I finally moved it over to WordPress and let someone else manage the hosting and httpd portions for me, where it still is. It’s hard to argue with free hosting.

Now I look at this website and think, what do I say? Is there really anything I want to put up here? We’re not living in Scotland anymore, or the outbacks of Alaska. The last hurricane for us was 6 years ago last week. Our adventures are more like a normal everyday life now. We live in Pacific Grove California, where we have 4 police officers for the whole town. We work and play in a very normal, quiet fashion now.

Most nights Roberta and I go for a walk down past the lighthouse, through the golf course and along the beach. Sometimes we’ll catch the sunset over the Pacific, sometimes not. It gives us a few moments to relax and chat. During last nights chat I mentioned that we need to stop with the Hunker Down mentality. The last two years of our lives have been one long series of shock, sadness, and hunkering down. I guess that’s a normal response when someone is given a death sentence. How do you live a normal life when you have no idea how long you actually have? How do you plan for the future, or even the near future when you have no idea what that future holds?

When we were given 6 months to a year for Roberta’s cancer to kill her we dug in and braced for the worst. We hunkered down, we tried to prepare the girls and ourselves. Then a year later she’s still here and fighting, then another six months and another round of chemo, and another six months. Every time she gets sick we fear the worst. It’s been 2 years so far and she’s still doing pretty well. But, in that whole time, we’ve been dug in, preparing for the storm.

Now, my damn contract at work is up again. Being a contractor is okay, but with it comes a level of uncertainty. The place I work is trying to convince us all to become government workers, which I don’t want to do. It looks like I have another years contract in place, so for now I have a job. But, I’m being told that when that one expires, well, with the economy the way it is, it’s not looking good for a renewal. So, what now? How is Roberta going to feel in a year when I, probably, will have to be looking to move. Will she be alive? Will she be like she is now and hurting but functional, in hospice? I can’t even imagine what we’ll do if I lose my job near the end of her life. It’s almost better to move now before she gets that sick than to even have a remote chance that I’ll be out of work or forced to move the family at the very end.

It’s really hard not to hunker down, to make no plans, to just exist. But, we can’t do that, we have to try and figure out what to do in the future. Living in Pacific Grove is such a great place for the kids, but they are resilient, if we have to move they’ll do okay. They’ve played under the Midnight Sun, walked in the footsteps of William Wallace, and lived through the heart of Katrina. No matter what, I know they will land on their feet. Be it here in California or wherever our future takes us.

Like this web page, our future is unknown. It’ll be what it will be. So, for those of you who have read these pages over the last decade, we’re still here. We still don’t know where we’re going, or what we’re doing, but we’ll get there. Whatever the future holds for this family, well, time will tell.

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