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Category Archives: Alaska
It Ain’t Over Til It’s Over
If you look at your calendar, it is Spring. Birds are returning from their wintering grounds, trees are beginning to bud, flowers are poking their lovely little heads from the ground, all anxious to continue the cycle of life after a long winter’s slumber.
That’s happening here in the Semi-Far North too, but here’s what our birds, trees and flowers are saying: “What the hell?!?”
Why are they so shocked, perplexed and grumpy (ok, I’m the grumpy one, but I’m sure there are more than a few pissy birds out there)? Because in less than 24 hours we were smacked with a spring snow storm that dumped 18-24 inches of the white stuff. Yes, you read that correctly.
This morning, I had to forge a path for my kids so we could reach the bus stop because my 7 year old was getting bogged down. Luckily, my 11 year old is almost as tall as I am and had a somewhat easier time of it. My DH, coming home after a few days in other parts of the state, almost got our 4-wheel drive pickup truck stuck as he was trying to come up our hill. I told him to forget it, just go on to work and hopefully the plowman will have pity on us and come ALL the way up the road this time. We’ll see.
You know it’s bad when the people who have been here forever are saying THEY’RE sick of the snow. Makes me feel somewhat better, but I still have to shovel. Again.
And by the way, please don’t remind me that I live in Alaska. I’ve been questioning the brilliance of that decision A LOT the past couple of days and bringing up my error in judgement may send me over the edge. The very snowy, wet in my boots edge.
Is It Spring Yet?
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The short answer is obviously not.
These pictures were taken February 3rd. The top ones are my kids making the world’s deepest snow angels. Next is the kids in front of a snow wall that isn’t completely man-made. Lastly, the view from my front steps. Yes, that is my poor little minivan on the left. The big, white mound on the right is our pickup. Granted, the truck is tall to begin with, but an additional foot and a half of snow makes it considerably taller. (In another photo we have, my 6’2″ husband is standing at the front of the truck and the snow on the hood comes about to the top of his head. Makes it difficult for my 5’6″ self to get the snow off the truck.)
Usually, I have no problem with snow, especially if I can stay inside and read or write or, as I did on this day, watch football (woo hoo! Giants!) I’ll admit I don’t like shoveling, but as long as the snow stops falling periodically so I can keep up with accumulation, I’m okay.
No, what I HATE about snow is when it melts. Like it’s been doing here for the last two days. Tons (ok, maybe not TONS, but a LOT) of snow that has been packed into ice on my driveway is now melting. But not melting quickly in an unseasonal blaze of sunshine and running down the culverts. Or slowly enough to dribble away quietly. Oh, no. It’s about 34 degrees so there is a constant layer of melt over the ice. Yeah, big fun trying to walk up or down our hill.
For two days it’s been a mess of blowing snow and sloggy slush. There is 6″ of water on my driveway threatening to slosh under everything we have stored outside. I have neither the stamina or strength to move scoop shovelfuls of water and ice terribly far. Plus, I wear glasses, so two minutes into the shoveling leaves me blind. The wind blows my hood off and allows the rain/snow on my unprotected head. My gloves get saturated as if I’d showered with them. I look, feel and smell (don’t ask) like a drowned rat.
The dogs, since they have no other option but to go out to pee, do their business and hurry back to the porch when they’d usually mosey about and take their sweet time returning. Even in the midst of a regular snow storm, they are in no hurry. But in this mess? You’ve never seen two big, lumbering canines move so fast in your life.
I’m sorry I don’t have a picture, but it’s just too damn wet and blowy out there, so you’ll have to use your imaginations. Got it? Okay, now make it worse. There ya go. Welcome to my world.
On the bright side, since I get wet and cranky quickly while trying to save my house from floating down to the highway, I have been coming back inside and ripping through my current wip. Hmmmm….maybe this crappy weather isn’t so crappy after all.
More Pictures
This is an almost 360 view from in front of my house. The house itself is, well, a house. But the views? Say it with me, folks. DAY-UM!
Small Town Q&A
We’ve been in our new locale for a month now, and two things have already become routine. The first is a question we inevitably receive and the second is an answer (to a different question) we inevitably must give.
The Question.
When we meet folks for the first time we are usually asked, “Are you staying?” Now, this may seem like an odd question to ask people who have just moved into town, but there is a legitimate reason people ask us this. Our new town has a Coast Guard station, which means families are in and out all the time. We’re also asked if we’re Coast Guard and then asked The Question because the town also contains commercial fishing families and others who only come up for the summer and are gone at the end of the season. So while I was initially confused by being asked if we were staying, I completely understand. And when we tell folks we’re here for the duration (as long as DH has his job, which better be freakin’ forever because I. Am. Not. Moving. Out. Of. Town. Again.) they seem pleasantly surprised. Which is a good thing.
The Answer.
Often in conjunction with The Question, we are asked where we’re living. I automatically give people the name of our street and receive a blank look. And I swear I hear crickets chirping in the background. The thing is, other than those of us who live on the road and the people who deliver propane tanks or pick up the garbage, I doubt most know this street exists. It’s only a couple of miles out of town, but there is no street sign. When I arrived my husband (who had been here for several months prior to the rest of us) made sure I knew what landmarks to look for so I wouldn’t miss the turn. If I got to the area of the avalanche chute I’d gone too far. (Hand to God, there is a neighborhood that was pummeled by an avalanche not so many years ago. We didn’t buy a house there for obvious reasons.)
So what answer do I give people? I tell them we live in J and P So-and-So’s old place. They immediately nod their understanding. I guess that’s typical in a small town. And I’d hazard to guess that if/when we move out of this house (NOT out of town, just to a different house) the folks who move in here will have to say they’re living in Scott and Cathy’s old place.
I can’t wait to ask newcomers The Question and give them the blank look when they give me their Answer. When I can do that, I will truly feel like part of our new community.
Pictures!
As promised, a few pictures of our new location.
On the right is the view of town and the sea from the ski hill where we were attending a bluegrass festival. Below, also from the ski hill, a shot of a bit of the mountains that flank town.
Next are a couple of shots of Childs Glacier. It’s about an hour’s ride from town, on a well maintained gravel road. The area where the kids are sitting is about 1/4 mile from the face of the glacier. It was a nice day, lots of folks around. We went to the site for an anniversary party and as folks chatted you could hear the glacier grumble and crackle. Pieces calved into the river and we waited to see if this was the piece that made a large enough splash to send a wave over to us. Yes, it had happened before. The calving ice chunk was large enough to flood the park 1/4 mile from the glacier face. Luckily, nothing that impressive happened while we were there.
Pictures!
As promised, a few pictures of our new location.
On the right is the view of town and the sea from the ski hill where we were attending a bluegrass festival. Below, also from the ski hill, a shot of a bit of the mountains that flank town.
Next are a couple of shots of Childs Glacier. It’s about an hour’s ride from town, on a well maintained gravel road. The area where the kids are sitting is about 1/4 mile from the face of the glacier. It was a nice day, lots of folks around. We went to the site for an anniversary party and as folks chatted you could hear the glacier grumble and crackle. Pieces calved into the river and we waited to see if this was the piece that made a large enough splash to send a wave over to us. Yes, it had happened before. The calving ice chunk was large enough to flood the park 1/4 mile from the glacier face. Luckily, nothing that impressive happened while we were there.
Moved In
Well, we made it to our new home with nary a scratch.
The cats weren’t too thrilled about being stuck in their carriers for the better part of the day, but could you imagine having two frantic felines loose in the cab of a U-Haul? According to my husband (he drove the moving truck with the cats and hamster in the cab. I drove the minivan with the kids, dogs and fish), they were quiet after the initial indignity of being confined, howled some when they realized an hour into the trip that, hey! It’s been a freakin’ hour, man! Where are you taking us??? They settled down again until we entered a long tunnel. Perhaps they sensed the megatons of rock around them, I don’t know. They were quite relieved to finally get into the new house.
The dogs were simply happy we were taking them for a car ride. I think they got a bit nervous as we started packing and moved stuff out. We left the animals in the house for two nights while we stayed in a hotel, having packed our bedrooms first so we could clean the carpets. The dogs probably thought we were leaving them, so once my husband opened the door of the minivan for them on the day we left, they jumped in and were determined not to get out again. Well, until it was time to pee, anyway.
The hamster, usually in his cage or, on more adventurous day, inside a plastic ball he trundles through the house in, was interested in going on a road trip for a little while. Then I guess sitting in a cage in the U-Haul got boring. The vibration and light made it a bit difficult for him to snooze, but he managed.
The fish fared well too, though some fishy water sloshed onto the passenger side of the minivan. That’ll be fun to smell on warm days.
Oh, wait, I’m in a northern temperate rain forest! Warm days are few and far between.
Actually, that’s not fair. Our first days here were sunny and warm, despite the warning my husband gave about the normal torrents in the area. We’ve gotten rain since then, and some bouts have been amazingly hard, but they stop and the sun breaks through a little. This is summer here. Come fall it will be more rain and wind to drive it sideways. Come winter it will be rain and snow with wind to drive it sideways.
We’re in a smaller town than the one we left and are liking it so far. We attended the July 4th celebration, complete with sack races, three-legged races, jellybean on a spoon races, and egg tossing competitions. After the games, pretty much the entire town met at the lake for a BBQ and boat races.
We’ve got most of the unpacking done too. sure, there will be a few things left in boxes, but what else is new?
And I’m getting back into the groove of writing and critiquing for my partners. Yay!
More about the new digs later. Maybe even some pictures if I remember to recharge the camera’s battery.
Moving On
In case you hadn’t noticed, I haven’t posted in a bit. Been busy getting ready to move a few hundred miles east. Still staying in AK, but going to a smaller town. Half the size of our current location and accessible only by air or sea. And that’s not even considered terribly remote for up here. We’ll be packing a U-Haul in the next two days and taking the Alaska Marine Highway system (ie: the ferry) to our new place.
So, for the half dozen or so of you who read this blog, I’ll catch up with you next week after we’ve settled in.
See you soon!
The Nature of Things
As I walked up the driveway this morning (on my way home from working out—go me!) I spied something under our boat trailer. A Northern Saw-whet owl stared at me with large yellow eyes. It had caught a small bird. I stopped, not wanting to scare the little guy (?) off his meal, backed up and took a more circuitous route to my porch through the heavy, wet snow that had fallen yesterday. I crept along the porch, against the wall, and peered around the corner. Still there, the owl had returned his attention to his breakfast. Or dinner.
Quiet as I could be in my clunky boots, I went inside and told my daughters what I’d seen. They were excited about the idea of an owl in our yard, even if it was chowing on one of the birds we’d probably been feeding for the past two months. Such is the way of nature, and my girls accept the facts of eat and be eaten with more maturity than I can give some adults credit for.
Now, most folks wouldn’t be fascinated by watching an owl tear into a song bird, but as a wildlife biologist-type, the natural order doesn’t gross me out in the least. My husband and I passed our matter-of-fact attitude about such things to our girls when they were old enough to understand that you have to eat to live. We’ve never forced them to watch a lion rip into a bloody zebra, but they know a lion’s got to eat something and grass just isn’t on their menu.
When our oldest was about 3, she had a fascination with sharks. With all marine life, really, but sharks in particular. Somewhere along the line, she received a bunch of plastic sharks as a gift. The Great White was her favorite, and when she asked us what they ate we told her seals, sea lions, fish, whatever they wanted, really. She took that in stride, despite the fact she thought seals were the cutest things around.
That summer, we went to the Oregon Coast Aquarium. She took her favorite shark, of course, and happily watched sea otters dive for clams in their enclosure, touched sea stars, and marveled at the floor to ceiling tank of moon jellies. Then we went to the seal and sea lion exhibit. The exhibit was set up with windows to watch the pinnepeds swim in their underwater enclosure. They’d come right up to the windows then swim off to make their circuit around the pool. Lots of people crowded around to see the cute seals. My curly-haired, blue-eyed three year old squeezed her way between the other visitors to get a look. Folks were nice enough to let her through. After all, who can resist an adorable (if I do say so myself) small child wishing to see an equally adorable animal? As a seal approached, she whipped out her plastic shark, held it in front of the glass and, in front of fifteen or so mostly grandma and grandpa types, made loud munching and lip smacking sounds, “Ar ar ar ar!”
I thought the people around her were going to pass out from horror. Holding back a chuckle at their reaction, I gently moved my daughter away from the window, saying, “Yes, honey, sharks eat seals. Let’s go look at the sea birds now.”
There is a certain order to nature that I accept and respect. Not that I’m all “Let’s go live with Nature and be one with Her” or anything. I like modern conveniences as much as the next person. But I can explain to my kids how an owl and a pine siskin or a Great White and a seal fit into their places. It’s the “civilized” world I have a hard time with.
But that’s a rant for another time.
Here’s wishing you a Happy 2007!
Oh the Weather Outside is Frightful…
But not in the sort of good way the song implies. That particular carol suggests it’s snowy and blowy and just the PERFECT weather for staying in by the fire.
Well, the sunny 20-25 degree days we experienced a few weeks ago, accompanied by just enough snow to make things pretty, have been replaced by mid to upper 30s and rain. At least we have the blowy part down. And no, I don’t have a fireplace. Sitting before the Monitor heater watching the element glow just isn’t the same thing. Plus, it’s hard to roast marshmallows.
Unfortunately, what we’re getting now is more typical of the weather here on the Alaska south central coast. Gray soggy days, near freezing nights, and slicker than a used car salesman’s hair (please see NOTE in comments section) come morning. It’s conducive to staying inside, hunkered down with a good book and a cup of tea.
Or maybe even writing! There’s an idea. I have two stories vying for attention in my brain, and with winter break almost upon us I’ll be refereeing kids all too soon. Maybe we’ll get lucky and the temp will drop so the snow will come. I have no qualms about sending kids outside to play in the snow, but it’s hard to justify outdoor time when it’s cold, pouring and muddy. Damn you, global warming!