In the morning, Jobe's parents called to tell us they were about to leave Anchorage to drive to Wasilla. They suggested that we meet them at IHOP, where they would buy us breakfast.
So, about 45 minutes later, I bundled Jobe up and packed him into his car seat.
Then we were all together in IHOP and it was busy there - as it always is on a Sunday morning.
Jobe was happy to see his parents, alright, but the moment after he exchanged his greetings with them, he wanted to come back to his grandpa.
That's just how it is with Jobe and me.
Kalib, however, was most content to settle down in the loving arms of his mom.
Except that he also wanted to spend time with his dad.
Jobe did find himself the recipient of some special Mom love, but even then his mind was on grandpa.
We returned home and in a bit Jobe's Uncle Rex showed up. Jobe was glad to see him, but still his thoughts were on grandpa.
Then Dad decided to read a book to Jobe. For a moment, Jobe was interested.
Then he decided he would rather be held by his grandpa than to hear how the story came out. So he pushed away from his dad...
...and came to me, so that I could hold him, which I did. Afterward, I decided that I had better go into my office, so that Jobe could visit other people. Plus, I had to put up yesterday's blog post.
Perhaps one day, Jobe will rebel, as young people do, and grow tired of his old grandpa. Perhaps Jobe will avoid me then, strive not to be seen by his peers with me.
Perhaps not. Perhaps he will be one of those young people who hangs tight with grandpa, no matter what.
He will always know his grandpa loves him. And, whether his rebellion draws him away from me for a time or not, I will know that he loves me, too.
He has already made it manifest. Such love does not just go away, but survives through youthful rebellion.
Plus, maybe before he hits that rebellion we will catch some fish together and cook them over hot coals and then eat them and then, even when he is rebelling, he will sometimes remember such moments fondly.
Jobe - my canoe has been dormant since I shattered my shoulder, but it will soon be time to activate it again.
Maybe Kalib, The Spatula Kid, can cook those fish for us. But it was kind of sad - Kalib came to the house with no spatula. His spatula is lost. No one can find it. His parents tried to give him another, but he would not accept it. It was THAT spatula or no spatula.
So he found a pair of tongs and has been packing those around instead. I understand that he has used them to turn hot dogs over, or maybe it was hamburgers.
He finds the tongs to be good for grabbing many things.
Still, I hope the spatula is soon found.
If it is, will he still want it?
Or will he only want the tongs, now?
Now that he has learned that he can grab things with them.
Just be careful what you grab, Kalib - especially when it comes to human and cat body parts.
When it came time to go, Kalib headed to the car with his parents. Jobe did, too.
This is the last day of the three day weekend and I have actually managed to rest up a bit. Tomorrow, I will return to my Kivgiq photos.
And this from India: Two beggar boys and a puppy
At one stop, I came upon these boys and this puppy. They were beggar boys, hoping to get a few coins from anyone who would give them. I believe that I have mentioned this before, but I was counseled by a number of sources not to give money to the beggars. I was told that what I could not see on the streets was the Fagan-like scroundrels operating unseen in the background - unscrupulous, cruel individuals who would send young children, mothers, and old people out onto the streets to beg and who would then collect the bulk of their earnings and keep them for themselves.
As to adult beggars who might not be tied into such rings, I was told that most of them were people who could work but who had chosen not to, but to beg instead and I should not encourage them. There are temples all about India where food is gathered in generous quantities and served to the poor, that none are turned away, that those who truly need it can find sustenance at these temples and that those who truly want to help donate to the temples - not the beggars themselves.
Still, it was very hard for me and I did pass on a number coins in India. Even if it should be true that a Fagan-like character was going going to take most of the money I gave to a child or mother of the street, that child or mother's survival is still tied to whether or not he or she is going to bring back enough revenue to stave off the wrath of Fagan.
The fact is, though, that so many people are out begging that one with limited resources himself can only give out so many coins and then he must stop or he will have no more coins for himself.
I have found this to be true in many American cities as well.
The bigger boy wanted me to photograph him with the puppy, but he did not want the little boy to be in the picture.
The little boy was determined to be in the picture.
I believe that I have also noted that in the short time that we were blessed to spend with Soundarya and Anil, who truly did not have that much themselves and would struggle with financial matters up until their deaths, on a number of times I saw one, the other, or both of them step quietly aside to give a coin to a beggar.
That's how my Sandy was - and her husband, too.
Generous people, both.