Experiencing Alternate Reality, Broughtons-Style

Imagine the luck of living in a world...

Where you get to see humpback whales lunge-feeding and spouting.
For nearly an hour.

Where dolphins accompany you...

...nearly everywhere you go.

Where there are no streets, just docks. And water.
(And sometimes, in those trees, bears. And bald eagles.)

Where you get served breakfasts like this...

...as long as you help clean up afterwards.

Where there is no better feeling than wind whipping your hair...

(Unless you are doing your best Deadliest Catch impression
and don't want the wind whipping your hair.)

(But most of us did want the wind whipping our hair.)

Where you get to learn contemporary methods of
swabbing the deck!

And, yes, there are rainbows.

Where your handsome spouse is in his element...

...and your girls are, too.

Where your family get to learn what it's like to catch their own food
(Sometimes your husband even finds Prince mushrooms
and you get to eat them for dinner.)

Where the sunflower seastars sometimes get to the crab trap bait first...

...and your girls get to go nose-to-antennae with tasty spot prawns
(we threw the teeny ones back)

Where this is a small salmon

And a 14 year old girl can catch four different
kinds of fish on a single morning

Where the days are long and magical

...and the nights are, too.

Where you're far away from just about everything.

And mail gets sent by fish!

It's a world that can't last, unfortunately.
(There was a boy who needed picking up from camp!)

So yesterday I said goodbye to the Broughtons.
They remain one of my favorite places on earth.

Sincere thanks to my in-laws for being such gracious hosts,
and to the wonderful crew that made our family's frolicking possible.
So so so so grateful.


  1. Amazing! And beautiful. You are blessed.

  2. My, this was inspiring. I wanted to comment and let you know that I'm currently writing a play about autism, (I'm a senior in high school), and I'm going around asking moms for stories and words of advice for the play. Although these words are your own and I don't plan on using them in my play, you're still helping me to tell my story. I've noticed that medical definitions tell you something about autism, they're merely one-layered and lack the humanity that stories like yours have. So I wanted to thank you for helping me in my creation of the mother character, who is just as important as the child himself. If I could ask one thing, would you mind helping in one small aspect of my play? I'm including a scene at the end that uses the names of real mothers that I've met through blogs and online, (with their permission of course), and a single word that they'd use to describe either autism itself, (from their own or their child's perspective), or one word to describe their child. It's an artsy approach that I wanted to include to illustrate the realness of these situations, regardless of the fact that the rest of the play was a made up story with made up characters, developed to tell a story. I thank you so much for your hope and for your bravery. I'll remember you as I write my play and need motivation to make someone proud.


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