I'm on the raft now. I left the island. Friday, when I launched, I was scared and sick to my stomach. The winter weather was oppressive. But I had to get going -- that day. It was 8:30 in the morning, and the building was about to come crashing down on me, and the tide was running the right way -- It was launch day. I knew it was coming. Still, I was afraid.
I have been three days adrift now. Saturday was rough. Sunday afternoon the sun came out and the sky cleared. It was still cold. But I wasn't scared anymore. I had enough food with me, and I was a lot calmer.
Today, Monday, I even feel good to be floating along -- regaining a sense of inner ballast. The vessel is sound. The charted course is set. And I'm on my way.
This is really interesting stuff
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Fred Owens
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How Frog Hospital got its name
News and commentary by Fred Owens in LaConner, a small town in the Skagit Valley. The story behind the name: There was once a grocery store in a quonset hut, run by Mr. Grobschmidt. Clyde, an old drunk who lived out on the river, thought that Mr. Grobschmidt looked like a frog, so he took to calling the store the "Frog Hospital." Now the quonset hut, Mr. Grobschmidt, and Clyde are all gone -- only this blog survives to carry on the Frog Hospital tradition.
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