;)
Given the non-stop intensity and full range of emotion that I have experienced these past few weeks, coupled with a chronic lack of sleep, I am a tired and lazy boy. I have no desire to blog or to do anything but to lay around, vegetate and indulge in the pleasures that lie on the soft and easy side of life, all of which seem to be out of reach.
So I will just post another traveling blog, with little comment. Tomorrow, I hope to get back to some serious blogging.
This is from yesterday afternoon in Fairbanks International Airport, where delay compounded delay. At one point as I was web-surfing, my adopted Wainwright Sister, Mary Ellen Ahmaogak (left, holding cards), appeared suddenly at my side and so I stood up and we gave each other a hug.
A bit later, she joined some other Arctic Slope ladies in a game of Snert.
Maybe if I had asked, I could have joined in, too, but they would have slaughtered me.
When it comes to Snert, they are all very cunning and ruthlessly ruthless.
;)
So I sat in Fairbanks International Airport from 11:35 AM until about 5:30 PM. Finally, I was on the plane, sitting in Window Seat 7F. I observed other people debarking from another flight.
As you can see, the smoke from the wildfires remained heavy, although not so bad as when I passed through on the way to AKP.
;)
Then came the preflight briefing. As usual, the passengers paid rapt attention to every word and demonstration, as all of our lives could depend upon it.
;)
I wonder what it feels like, to have two batons in your hands and to order the pilot of a big jet around? Even if for just a few moments?
Of course, if that pilot were to accidently run over a duck because you waved a baton wrong, it wouldn't feel very good at all.
;)
Then we were rising from the runway, passing over moth-balled airplanes as we climbed. Someone should give me one of those airplanes. I would put it in my back yard and move my office into it.
I think the cats and I would be very happy in such an office and it would give the fish a new place to swim.
;)
Then I noticed that the sun had come through the window and had lit my hand up.
;)
Lots of cumulous clouds in the air.
;)
Can you see Denali, right under the wing tip?
That's the highest mountain in North America, you know - and the tallest mountain in the world, measured from base to peak rather than feet above sea level.
We here in Alaska all love this mountain and most of us hate to hear it called McKinley. It is just not right to call it McKinley.
;)
Here we are, descending over the Cook Inlet mudflats on final approach into Ted Stevens International Airport in Anchorage.
I wonder how Ted Stevens feels, when he sits on a plane descending on final into this airport?
;)
And then we were at the gate, ready to deboard.
Back in Wasilla, a dog looked at me.
After I returned to my house, I discovered that the small green terror that had disappeared and so I had thought might have been eaten had not been eaten after all.
It had jumped out of the tank, had flopped its way several feet until it was under my work table and there it had died and dried. It didn't smell too good.
I try to keep my tanks covered, but awhile before I left, Pistol-Yero climbed upon the 95 gallon tank and broke one-half of the cover.
I wasn't worried, though, because I did not think there were any jumpers in there.
Just a little bit ago, Pistol-Yero climbed atop the 55 gallon tank and collapsed one half of the cover. I don't think he broke it, though. I don't think there are any jumpers in there, but I had better fish that cover out and put it back.
I was wrong before, I could be wrong again.
It just wouldn't be right to lose another good fish because it jumped out of the tank.