As a perfectionist, a scatter brain, and a bit of a “renaissance woman”, I find that starting a blog is a difficult venture.  Not the blog itself, but the beginning of the blog.  What should the tagline be?  What encompasses me in a few words? What will make people want to read this blog, besides myself and a few supportive and piteous friends and family? It’s not that simple.  I also feel like my style as a writer is to use as few words as possible, but when I want to spend time writing about building our new home, my love of cooking, crafts, literature, art, and travel– it gets a little cramped.

So, where does one begin?

Let’s start with where I live: Ketchikan, AK.  Ketchikan is a small town on an island in the rainforest of Southeast Alaska.  This island is called Revillagigado, named after Juan Vincente de Guemes Padilla Horcasitas y Aguayo, 2nd Count of Revillagigedo. Why is this island named after a Spanish military officer?  Well, back in the late 1700’s Juan Vincente de Guemes Padilla Horcasitas y Aguayo, 2nd Count of Revillagigedo sponsored exploration into the fabled Northwest Passage in Alaska.  Although Spain was one of the first to explore into this territory, Juan Vincente de Guemes Padilla Horcasitas y Aguayo, 2nd Count of Revillagigedo did not see the Northwest as worth the cost of maintaining it.  So, although there is very little Spanish history here, because he was the first to sponsor exploration in this area, his namesake, as well as many other Spaniards, are reflected here.

It makes sense that Juan would consider this little place not worth the effort.  Ketchikan lies on the side of a rock.  There is very little in the way of farming or raising animals.  It rains three hundred days out of the year.  Life here is not the easiest, even today, and I can’t imagine what it would have been like a hundred years ago. But I like to think that that is why myself, and so many strange others, have chosen this place as a home. To love it here, to live here, you have to work sometimes to see the charm.  Some days the clouds break, the sun peaks out, and you are in one of the most beautiful places in the world.  Or another day, its raining and you’re truly expensive rain gear has failed you and you are soaked through, but you still stop on your walk home and admire how the fog hugs into the hills and mountains across the channel. I love this place because it challenges me the way a truly good book can challenge me.  I love that only a bunch of freaks and artists and hard folk can love this place and we all have an unspoken bond because of it, like a secret wink among strangers. I love that no matter where I travel in the world, when I come home, it feels like home, it still feels beautiful, and I’ve never felt that way about a place before.