Letters to the Editor - Jan. 9, 2012

  • Written by Readers


Let’s congratulate a special event that occurred in Woodinville for the first time in 2011.

A permit was given to the owner of a food truck, and to me this is a hallmark.

Years ago, I had a vision that I would open a food truck here; never mind that I’m probably not qualified.

I’ve enjoyed following urban developments and the plentiful food trucks in our major cities, so the probability of a food truck in Woodinville was something of a joke.

But so many things have changed for us in the last 20 years.

Urban planners know that developing “street life” in cities with bad weather like Seattle is difficult.

Between Seattle and Portland, Portland has come out on top in this race.

I often want to cross paths with fellow Woodinville residents. Our beautiful new parks have given me some opportunity when the weather’s OK.

Still, I share this city with so many people I will never meet. So I’m especially interested in those new chefs following in the wake of our wine culture and tasting rooms, and putting forward the idea of a food truck street life culture.

For example, this is a great alternative to the cost of opening a restaurant.

In a new book by Heather Shouse called “Food Trucks,” various stories show how people make preparations for and open their trucks to the public.

Many buy used campers on Craigslist and outfit them according to their specifications — just a suggestion for our wonderful city and its future.

Nancy Snyder, Woodinville


Two skinny, sick, little kittens were found on the streets and brought to Homeward Pet Shelter when they were six months old. Their completely white, long fur was dirty and matted, clearly not familiar with either a brush or petting hand. The dominant brother they named Vaughn and the silent one was called Marcel.

In the shelter, the veterinarian was unable to even examine Vaughn as his medical record said he was just too frightened.It was much easier to handle Marcel since he was quiet to the point of comatose. Traumatized to the point of possible no hope for a real home, this shelter decided to try bringing them back to health. In was a no-kill shelter anyway, but that was not these little ones problem since they were having a hard time just surviving. Regular feedings and medical care put on the pounds for Vaughn but no for little Marcel who did not gain at all but remained for a long time at his original four pounds he arrived with.

Somehow Marcel miraculously began to gain weight and by a year old, their photo was shown as the Pet of the Week feature in this newspaper.

It noted that Vaughn was partially lame and that Marcel was partially blind. Their two little faces stared out at me from the picture with a mildness and curiosity the belied their background or disabilities.

I had intended to get an older pet who would be lazy and content and had not yet decided whether this should be two old cats or an old small dog. Instead, I kept this clipping until I was totally captured by these brave toddlers who might not be able to adjust too much and stay too frightened for any contentment. They stood out prominently at the shelter, lying peacefully together in a single cage. Sparkling white, with dark eyes (actually blue but dark with huge pupils), and soft pink paw pads, nose and ears, they were exotic to me as one used to the good old American short hair or even long-haired breeds. A cat book shows them as likely being Turkish Angoras, mixed, I think, with Persian more prominent with Marcel and Siamese quite loudly by Vaughn. At first looking like identical twins, one can discern great differences. These homeless little critters with a likely fancy heritage were just sitting there in both modesty and indifference. Marcel hardly noticed his surroundings, including me, and Vaughn was always on hyper-alert and was looking me over somewhat carefully as I spoke and petted him. He purred but he still made a good swipe at me with mostly sheathed claws as if to be certain I understood he was the boss of his territory.

And home we came to my two-level condo facing trees, lake and much movement of people, dogs, birds and things only cats can see, but far below.

Although necessary to indicate household rules, kept to a minimum as my style as well, I found it necessary to be extremely soft if I wished to be firm.

A raised voice of any kind sent Vaughn into hiding after shooting a look of dismay which would break my heart. For a long time, at least for me, I played no music, so we had silence except for the gentle sounds of furnace, fireplace (Vaughn’s favorite always), wind and rain.

His music taste began with Native flutes and expanded slowly to multiple instruments but balked at Mozart as much too loud and Placido Domingo singing Christmas music sent Vaughn with his brother close on his heels straight out of the room at top speed. Marcel approved only of things checked out and Okayed by Vaughn. At some point a decision was made and I became adopted by Vaughn who exhibited such a rare thing for a cat – gratitude and a desire, albeit done with a proud style, to obey in order to please. He showed these rare traits, it seems, when he realized he was no longed needed to be tough nor to fight for what he needed, whether food or love. Now five months later, he has “regressed” to the status of typical impossible kitten. Marcel gleams with life.

If his brother inspires, he simply causes everyone to fall in love with him and makes no effort on his own behalf for this.

He “regained” much of his sight the more secure he became, although still leery of the couch he so often missed completely in his flying leap attempts.

Far from passive now, he first asserted himself by attacking all moving objects and certain favorites such as my shoes and his brother’s tail.

Personality expressions entailed some disagreements in fights which Marcel often started but never won.

After my interference and rescues which resulted often in both of them retreating somewhere against a common enemy – me – I too relax noticing nary a scratch on either of them after disputes with the desperate noises.

More and more, each of them acquires that distinct sort of dignity cats appear to require for self-respect. But they still astonish anyone who has cared for them by their gentle loving core which is still surrounded by the wild spirit that allowed them survival in dark hard times.

These little fellows turned to the light when their world was so dark with something like faith.

If not now behaving like zany kittens in the way of kittens, their blue eyes shine with the spirit within them that stayed gentle, loving, curious, brave, and mischievous – surviving somehow whatever was thrown at them before their life had really even started. It is my honor to share a home with such a pair (most of the time).

Sharon L. Robinson



Are you aware that the transfer stations for dumping trash and garbage are no longer going to accept recycling at Houghton and Shoreline?

We live in rural King County  between Woodinville and Duvall and have always dumped our own garbage since we’ve [moved] here in 1986.  We recycle about half of each load at the transfer stations and are conscientious recyclers of everything we can.

Now our only option will be to dump all those cans, bottles and the piles of newspapers and catalogs into the dump for the landfill.

Does this sound like what we want for our Puget Sound area?  I think it’s appalling.

You might say,” Well, sign up with Waste Management.” Our family finances do not permit us to add yet another large bill; like many people we are helping relatives through these difficult economic times.

Further, to use their services we would have to haul our containers down this narrow gravel lane for about 11 acres worth, to the main road for pickup. At age 69, this is not easy!

These bins at the transfer station are well used by the public and keep a great deal of trash out of landfills.  The claim has been made that the county can’t afford it.

Surely a nominal flat recycle fee on the dump fees could be considered to save the environment and users’ budgets.

I have called King 5 TV and sent a message to our County Executive Dow Constantine.  Please contact environmental clubs and our government if you share this concern.

Lynn Shebilske, Woodinville


Marjorie Lynch’s “Yours in Anger” January 2nd letter to the editor was of major interest to me and anyone else who is concerned by government’s taking of the use of private property.

Thirty-five feet of buffer along creeks is certainly sufficient to protect the creek from harm. It’s enough to preserve existing brush along the creek and to plant trees if needed. (And if it’s a Class 2 stream rather than a Class 1, buffer requirements are less.)

Has the Woodinville City Council produced the science to justify its increasing the required buffer from 35 to 115 feet?


Maxine Keesling

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