Valentine’s Day has passed, but love is still in the air. We have this post:
“ISO:Wife-I’m a gander who enjoys long glides in my private pool, eating baby greens tenderly planted by my human, and naps in the warm sun. I’ve been an excellent foster dad to my flock of ducks. Seeking lovely female goose for companionship and hanky panky.”
The gander’s current love interest is a decoy duck, so any goose who is (a) alive and (b) a goose, would fit the bill.
Islanders suggested kidnapping some Canada Geese, but they are too cliquish and snobby and wouldn’t stoop to dating someone who humps lawn ornamentation.
So if you know an eligible goose or a goose yente who could help out, let us know.
In another thread, this question was posed: “What’s the longest amount of time an individual has stayed on island, without leaving even once? Months? Years? Decades?”
The first record on the thread was 8 months, broken by a poster who went 2 years. There’s a legend of a man named Gary who didn’t leave for 10 years.
Someone hasn’t been off since 2018, putting them at 4 years, and making them the reigning champion.
And we have this disturbing comment, “That person chained in my basement has been here for quite some time.” I don’t think it counts, though. You have to choose to stay here. I mean, my cats have never left the island, but no one thinks that’s a big deal.
Then we wonder, not just who hasn’t left the island, but if you live on one part of the island, have you never been to the other?
There are people from Vashon who’ve never set foot on Maury, despite the convenient landbridge that only occasionally floods.
There are people who need to use google maps to get to the highway from Dockton after dropping someone off.
That’s one way to get to know the island – picking up hitchhikers.
That’s something the pandemic took from us that I really miss- hitchhikers. I started keeping my car clean when a hitchhiker looked like she was trying really hard not to judge the mess. I once saw a man hitchhiking with a truck tire that was nearly as big as he was, and he got picked up.
One time when it was snowy and my husband went to get groceries, he had me stay on the phone with him in case he crashed. Our conversation went as such: “I’m making it down the driveway. Slipping a lot. Made it to the main road. I’m picking up a hitchhiker, Hey man, you going to town? Say hi to my wife.”
Then there was the time when I was pregnant and I hitchhiked. This young girl picked me up, and when she saw me put on my seat belt, she put hers on. I thought, “Wow, I’m such a good influence on the youth.”
But back to never leaving the island. We have this story: “I have friends who live off the grid on an island in the San Juans. They joked they were going to teach their son there was nothing outside of their island and keep him there forever.”
I’m curious how he’ll react to seeing airplanes and boats. But maybe they’ll be lucky and it will be foggy there everyday forever, and they can keep up the ruse.
Also, we can’t figure out why someone would leave the island. Or how. It’s not like there’s a bridge.
Then we learn about the islander who lived in a cave for years. He was a “straight up cave dweller,” we are told.
We’re not sure if he’s the same guy as the man who lived in a hole for ages. Apparently “cave dweller” is a cliche identity around these parts.
Wait, where do you find a cave on Vashon? I guess I’ll find out if I ever pick up a hitchhiker who has me drop them off at the side of a cliff.