Abundance

“It was the best of times, it was the worst of times, it was the age of wisdom, it was the age of foolishness, it was the epoch of belief, it was the epoch of incredulity, it was the season of Light, it was the season of Darkness, it was the spring of hope, it was the winter of despair …, we had nothing before us, we were all going direct to Heaven, we were all going direct the other way …”

Charles Dickens, A Tale of Two Cities

People from out of state often ask, “Do you still get paid to live there?” I’ll resist a big digression (actually this blog is that big digression) into the many payoffs of living here, but there’s always tax time, too.

It is indeed Permanent Fund Dividend (PFD) season here. Alaskans receive a check based on some black-box formula related to the performance of the investments on woefully undertaxed oil revenues. And we fight over that formula. Ironically, conservatives (no handouts) tend want as much in the annual check as possible, and liberals want the funds to be put to longterm fiscal plans, which Alaska somehow just can’t stomach. So we stumble on, year after year, receiving and spending our checks (three or four times over) while we underfund schools and social services and the headlines are about austerity.

Anyway, if you miss applying for your check it’s a big deal, causing all kinds of bureaucracy that may compound into multiple missed checks, etc. Tim had been on that roller coaster ride for a couple of years now, and on my way to prep the boat to go pull crab pots, I checked the mail, and YES… his denied check from years ago, finally. I gave Cedar a dog treat to celebrate and left her inside while I hooked up the boat.

Bro Dave and I had a great haul of crab, which will ensure a whole lot of work today, but many meals ahead.

Came home feeling pretty good. Despite the heavy going on in life, a moment of abundance.

Apparently, Cedar had her own opinions about the value of the PFD. (She has been in Alaska for the requisite year—long enough to get one, I suppose.)

Well, for now, dear Cedar, thinking about the Dickens epigraph on the Fall equinox, I have you as going “direct the other way.”