Feeds:
Posts
Comments

Posts Tagged ‘nephews’

Welcome to the World Headquarters of Coupeville Sports.

I’m not big on change, apparently.

I’ve lived my entire life in Washington state, with 36 of those 54 years here on Whidbey Island — the last 20 residing in the same duplex on the shores of Penn Cove.

It used to be a candy store back in the day, and a beach shack before that.

I arrived on the corner of Sherman and Madrona in time for the second season of Lost and have remained here through two sets of landlords, several next-door neighbors, and at least four mailboxes — only three of which have been exploded by wayward drivers.

Being a converted beach shack, it often doesn’t hold its heat very well in the winter but catches enough breeze skipping off the mussel rafts in the water below to stay cool for all but a few days in the “sunnier” months.

I’m used to it, and it’s used to me.

From the latter part of my video store days through farm and restaurant work, we have endured together.

And, for the past 13 years, it has been the home of “Coupeville Sports.”

My computer setup has moved from the bedroom to the living room over the years, with furniture changing, and — over the course of the last year — 7,000+ DVDs/Blue-Rays coming to reside on 34 bookshelves.

I live in a video store now, something which is both sublime and stupid all at the same time.

Videoville is never coming back in reality, but, for relatively few bucks, I recreated it for a moment.

But things have been thrown asunder of recent, and it’s sent me drifting in a deep funk.

My sister, brother-in-law, and three nephews, who lived in Freeland the past seven years, suddenly moved to West Virginia in April.

I have kept the blog going for 13 years, and 12,105 articles, by being willing to live on a few pennies here and there. There were far more positives than negatives over the years.

But losing daily, or semi-daily, contact with my nephews has forced me to reflect on things.

I can keep the blog going, I can attempt to scrape by on sporadic donations and side hustles.

Or I can make a big change and go see my nephews continue to grow up in person, while I’m still taller than at least one of them.

Will I adjust to wild West Virginia weather after a lifetime of living in the fairly serene Pacific Northwest? I guess we’ll see.

So, this is a long way to get around to confirming that yes, this is the end of Coupeville Sports. And the start of something else.

I’m not 100% sure when I’ll be on a train heading East, duffel bag in hand, but it will be sooner rather than later.

To all of you who supported me over the years, with financial help, or baked goods, or kind words, thank you.

If anyone wants to help me ease down that long and winding road, you can always celebrate the legacy of Coupeville Sports with a final visit to:

 

Venmo: David-Svien

PayPal: https://paypal.me/DavidSvien?country.x=US&locale.x=en_US

 

And if you know someone interested in swinging a deal for a whole lot of movies, well, there’s that, too.

Read Full Post »

I have hit the wall, and the wall has fallen on me.

As this spring, the 13th in Coupeville Sports history, has played out, I have not been as attentive as normal to my blogging duties.

Yes, I still have written a story for every game, varsity or JV, but I haven’t been at games in person as often as usual.

I have given you the facts this spring, but not always the zing.

I missed games at the start, devoting time to instead helping my sister and her family prepare for their move from Freeland to West Virginia.

One moment it’s an idea that seems illogical and unlikely.

Then a moving date is set, but it seems far away.

Then you’re left, alone, stirring the embers in the fire pit out by the half-buried big rock in their front yard one last time, with no one around anymore to tell you that “No, Uncle David, you can’t put leftover carpet cleaning chemicals on the fire like your dad used to back in the ’80s. It’s bad for the environment.”

I should be grateful I got a somewhat unexpected seven-year run with my nephews here on Whidbey, after my sister moved back to the island from Maple Valley.

Instead, I am trying, and often failing, to adjust to reality, which is that instead of me Ubering them around, they are now 3,000+ miles away, and I have yet to leave the West Coast in my lifetime.

My birthday hit last week, and that’s 54 years of thinking Idaho is just a little too East for my liking, much less the rest of those Godforsaken states spilling across the map.

After my nephews left during spring break, not to return, I have been at more games.

But I still have skipped too many, finding excuses not to go, such as the eternal fallback of “I think I need a nap.”

And yes, I am aware that’s a sign of depression.

But sleepy time does allow me a bit of time not to deal with my other reality — that the only way Coupeville Sports has survived for nearly 13 years, and 12,000+ articles, is that I have embraced a life of abject poverty.

And it’s really not working anymore. If it ever did.

I started the blog in self-righteous anger in 2012, after the Coupeville Examiner was sold and thousands of my bylines were flushed down a (proverbial) toilet.

I’ve mellowed (a bit) since then, and the focus of my writing (mostly) got more upbeat.

But you can only smash your head against the brick wall of reality so long.

Living donation to donation is not a viable business plan. Never was. Never will be.

I am eternally grateful to all that have helped me, either financially or with kind words.

The level of support I have seen over the past 13 years is mind-boggling at times.

If you felt my appreciation, I am glad.

If you did not, I apologize for not being clear enough in my thanks.

Without your support, this blog would have died in its first year. But it endured, a lot longer than anticipated.

My current plan is to make it to May 31.

That’s the last day of high school sports in Washington for the 2024-2025 school year, with state championship action wrapping up for track and field that afternoon.

The younger two of my three nephews started school in South Whidbey after the move to the island, went to home schooling for a bit, then moved into Coupeville schools.

I thought I would get to see them go through the next couple of years right near my duplex. I was wrong.

The reality is, as limited as my bills are, I can’t pay them.

And I never will be able to consistently while trying to live from donation to donation, especially as the people who have supported me deal with their own hazy financial futures in a world dominated by scam artists.

It’s time to get out from under the wall which has crashed down on me.

Take less naps.

Accept reality.

Get a job which includes a consistent paycheck, while joining the mass exodus of resignations happening this spring on the prairie.

We make plans, and they change.

And everything, even “Coupeville Sports,” ends.

Read Full Post »

My sister has added ducks to the family farm, to the delight of my nephews. (Sarah Kirkconnell photo)

Spring break under the heat lamp. (Matthew Kirkconnell photo)

“I will name him George and I will hug him and pet him and squeeze him and pat him!” (Artwork by Alistaire Kirkconnell)

It’s a dream come true for my nephews.

Lil’ ducks as far as the eye can see.

Since coming back to Whidbey Island two years ago, my sister and her husband have taught all three of their sons a lot of lessons about gardening, forestry, and living off the land.

Now, to go along with the dog and cat, the family has added 12 little chicks to the farm.

Excitement abounds, especially among the younger of the nephews, Walker and Alistaire, who are 4th and 2nd graders respectively.

The boys, and their older brother Ford, are big fans of old-school Donald Duck cartoons.

Alistaire once fell off the end of the couch from laughing too hard after Donald accidentally swallowed a bag of popcorn and set off an explosion of kernels by standing too close to the fireplace.

Which raises the question – how long until they knit their ducks little sailor outfits?

Tops only, of course, as we all know ducks don’t wear pants.

Read Full Post »