It was a Kalib-Jobe kind of day and it began at IHOP

I had a big day of work planned when I started to come to this morning, but Margie told me that Lavina had called and she was coming out with Kalib and Jobe. Lavina hadn't eaten, was hungry and wanted to meet us for breakfast at IHOP.

So I took a shower and then off we went to IHOP. We had not been there long before Kalib decided that the table was rather bland and so began to shake salt and pepper all over it.

His mom put a stop to it.

Kalib could have tripped the waitress and caused her to spill coffee and Pepsi all over the floor, but he didn't. Despite his mischievous, rambunctious nature, he must be a good boy, or else he certainly would have.

Jobe was with us at breakfast, too, but you couldn't see him because he was in his car seat and there was a blanket draped over it. Right after we entered the house, Lavina removed the blanket.

Royce observed. Wouldn't it be nice if Royce could raise another baby, just like he raised Kalib?

Momma and son. Do you think they have a connection?

Gramma and grandson. Do you think she loves him?

Margie bestows love on two grandsons at once. Caleb studies Jobe to see if maybe he has grown enough to begin to learn how to golf.

Caleb decides that, indeed, Jobe is ready to begin learning the fundamentals of golf. At the fundamentalist level of golf is a golf ball.

"Golfball," Caleb coaches. He documents the moment on his iPhone so that the technique with which Jobe observed the ball can be reviewed later.

Thanks to Uncle Caleb, Kalib already knows about a golfball and about clubs, too. He grabs a club and then his uncle hands him a ball.

Kalib studies the lay of the rug in preparation to make putt. Trouble is, he doesn't know where the hole is. He doesn't care. He will putt anyway.

Kalib raps the ball.

After scoring 18 holes in one, Kalib spots his mom outside, coming into the house. I don't know what she was doing out there, but whatever it was, I'm certain she succeeded at it.

A bit later, when I was working in my office, Kalib came out and wanted to feed my fish. I gave him a fish pellet and he ate it, then smiled mischievously.

Now grandma has Jobe again.

She looks into his little mouth and sees that there are no teeth in there, yet. That's good. It could be pretty tough on Lavina if there were.

Jobe goes down for a nap in the buckskin cradle board that his Aunt LeeAnn made for him.

He dozes to the soothing strains of Haydn, played on a classical cable station.

Kalib, by the window, eating a oatmeal chocolate chip cookie that Margie or Lavina or maybe both made while I was out mailing a package.

Kalib stands by his mom as she feeds his little brother. Lavina is very modest about such matters.

I could not believe it. Come evening, they left. I did get some work done today, but not as much as I had planned to. Of course, even when I work all day and all night, I never get as much done as I plan to.

This is Iditarod weekend. Lavina wants to watch dogs pull sleds tomorrow, but needs someone to babysit Jobe. Margie wants to hang out with Jobe.

How convenient.

You'll be seeing everybody again tomorrow.

A black cat is sprawled across my chest and has been for every word of this post. Somtimes, he touches the tip of my nose with his. His nose is wet and cold, as it should be.

He could pull a sled in the Iditarod if he wanted to, but he doesn't want to. He prefers to stay home and be warm.

A lonely Wasilla Democrat; the raven who would not fly; the dog who didn't get run over; two moose who grazed in the yard; the tax-preparer who drinks Metro coffee

Remember how last week I came upon Dodd Shay and his new pup, Scotty, on Seldon? Remember how he stopped to chat, but then traffic came along and so he pulled over onto nearby Tamar and told me that he was planning to start showing up at Metro Cafe at 10:00 Thursday mornings and wanted to invite folks of Democratic bent to stop by and have coffee with him?

Today, as I walked on Seldon, Dodd and Scotty came driving by and stopped again. I asked if he had gone to Metro at 10:00 and yes he had. I asked if others had joined him and he said he saw another Democrat there, but they did not get together. They took their coffee separately.

Ten in the morning is not a good time for me to get together with anybody, anywhere. At 10:00, I am trying to figure out how to deal with the day, or I am walking, which is part of what I do to figure out how to deal with the day.

Some days are pretty cut and dried, though - it's all sitting right in front of me and I don't need to figure out anything - I just need to find the the will to get to it. Today was such a day.

Dodd and I did not get to talk long, because pretty soon a car showed up coming from behind him. There was no convenient turnoff, so he said goodbye and drove on.

A bit further along, I saw this raven sitting atop the cell-phone tower. As I noted way back when, we had very weak reception here before they built this and were always suffering dropped calls. Now, we get all bars reception and if a call gets dropped, it's because it happened on the other end.

I decided that I wanted to get a picture of this raven departing the tower. With the pocket camera, you've got to be ready, because you're only going to get one chance and, unless you're already applying enough pressure to the shutter button to keep it active, there will be a little delay.

So I kept the camera focused on the raven, kept my finger lightly pressed against the shutter button and I waited.

Five minutes... ten minutes... 15...

The raven just sat there, not flying. 

The raven might not understand photography, but ravens are smart and cunning birds and very mischievous. I knew that the raven had figured me out. The raven knew that I wanted it to fly and that I did not intend to leave until it did. So the raven decided to wait me out, to stay put. 

The raven decided that it would not fly until I walked away.

This was a game to the raven and it was determined to win.

In time, another raven came flying by. Usually, when this happens, the perched raven will de-perch itself and take off flying - either to join or squabble with the newcomer, depending on what kind of relationship they share. But this raven knew that this was just what I wanted it to do, so it stayed put. It did turn to watch the other raven pass by, though.

Finally, after more than 20 minutes, I decided that I had to get going. I gave up and started to walk away. The raven flew. I quickly raised my camera and got a shot off but because I was walking I messed it up and it was blurry.

You may not believe me that the raven knew and planned it this way, but I am not joking. I am serious.

Ravens like to play these kind of games and they are hard to beat.

Do you remember this dog? The one that ran out into the middle of Seldon not so long ago and nearly got run over?*

Cars just kept coming and it just kept getting in their way, even as they honked.

I wandered how long that dog would live.

This is it. It is still alive. It had found its way into that part of the marsh that Dodd holds title to, the part where the signs on his gates tell snowmachiners and fourwheeler drivers not to enter, but many enter anyway and tear up the property regardless.

Then it was back to my office, where I tried to work until 4:00 PM, at which time I grabbed my jacket and headed to the car so that I could stop by Metro, get my brew and listen to a bit of All Things Considered in the car.

I headed straight out the door and into the car and was about to back out when I saw this adolescent moose in the front yard, right beside me.

And here is it's mom. That's Joe's house in the background. Were it not for Joe, Chicago kitty would be dead. One day, I will tell the story. On the whole, it is a terribly sad story, even though she survived.

In fact, it is a tragic story, but we are very glad Chicago survived.

It is also an amazing story.

Through the Metro Window Study, #12,682

This is Juanita. Carmen says she is her "H&R Block lady." It's that time, isn't it?

"How often do you come here for coffee?" I asked Juanita, thinking that maybe it was tax business that brought her here today. 

"How often do I come here?" she laughed, with a bemused look on her face.

"As often as you do," Carmen answered for her.

This is what the Talkeetna's looked like on the way home. The winter darkness has been defeated. Soon, dark will be but memory. We will not even want to think about the dark.

That's why I hate to go south in the time of light. Down south, it gets dark every night, even on the summer solstice. I can't bear it. I just can't.

Please. Keep me in the north, all summer long.

Do not make me go south.

But I'm already committed. Late May - Arizona. For a very special reason. I cannot miss it.

As I approached my house, I saw that the moose were just leaving.

*I was going to write, "damn near got run over," but then I remembered that one of my readers left a comment awhile back telling me that her ten-year old daughter reads my blog every morning, so I decided that I had better not swear. Thus, I did not write, "damn near got run over," but rather, "nearly got ran over."

I have really cleaned up my blogging language since I learned about this 10 year-old girl.

Through the Metro Mirror Study, # 3

I've been getting another bit of an uptick in readership lately, and so I hate to do this, but I must. I can only post one image tonight and I can't tell any stories. No time, no extra energy.

So this is the image: I am not in my car at the drive-through window this time, but inside Metro Cafe, taking a picture of myself in the mirror along with three other guys.

Immediately behind me stands Gil, the young guy is Jeremy and the fellow at the left is Larry.

Other than their names and what you see in this picture, I know nothing about them, except for the fact that they were at Metro Cafe today at the same time that I was.

I am inside because Margie drove into Anchorage to pick up her phone that she had left behind at baby Jobe's house and she dropped me off along the way so I could walk home. While Margie was in town, she got to visit Jobe. She was still there when Kalib came home from daycare, so she got to see him, too.

We have both been lamenting about how much we miss having Kalib in our daily lives, since his parents took him and moved him into their new home in Anchorage.

The mean dog, revisited; nice dog; two good cats; I step into the house to find Palin, Leno, Romney and Letterman drawing laughs on TV

This is the dog that I mentioned back in January; the one named Angel, the one whose woman says she is a real sweatheart who would bite no one, yet she has bitten me. I don't begrudge Angel; she thought she was doing a good thing and maybe she was.

As I stated in January, she is seldom out but when she is, it is always a memorable experience.

This is one of those nights when I simply do not have it in me to make a real post. So, since I had mentioned this dog recently, I went back into my archives and pulled her out. Perhaps some readers have seen Angel before, but it was a year-and-a-half ago when I originally put her in here and I didn't have very many readers then (as if I have  huge amounts now), so for those who have never met Angel before, I thought I would give you a treat.

Angel. The sweetheart.

Today, in the very same spot, I came upon this dog, who may possibly live in the same house with Angel. I am not certain. This dog is very friendly. It is the same dog that was carrying the stuffed turtle and almost got run over in front of me.

And here is Chicago and Royce, good cats both. When Chicago climbs on my lap or cuddles up alongside me and I put my hand on her, I feel healthy, warm, flesh beneath her fur. When I put my hands upon Royce or pick him up, I can feel the details of his bones.

He takes his medicine every day. His appetite remains good. He does not lack for energy.

I, however, do. 

So goodnight.

Wait! Wait! Not yet!

Immediately after I finished the above, I got up from my computer, left this office, stepped into the house and found Margie watching TV... The Tonight Show, with Jay Leno.

See? It's Margie watching Leno on TV - but who is that there with him...?

Why, It's my fellow Wasillan, Sarah Palin! 

I won't try to analyze this performance of Leno and Palin - there will be plenty of pundits and bloggers doing that. I will note that it was kind of a painful thing to watch and although I know Jay Leno is a gentle interviewer, his questions and comments seemed to have been written for him by Meg Stapleton - but no, she's not there anymore. So it must have been someone else.

And Palin did succeed in packing the audience with her people.

Going head to head with Leno and Palin was Letterman and Romney, who we watched during the commercial and then after Leno finished chatting with Palin.

The topic of health care came up and Romney said the way to go was not national, but that all 50 states should do as Massachusetts did when he was governor and create their own programs.

Letterman noted that among the world's nations, the US ranks somewhere way down in the low 30's in the quality of health care received by its citizens. Romney countered this by asking where the kings and queens of the world go when they are in bad need of health care? The US, he answered, as proof that this statement was false. He argued that we have the best health care in the world system.

Yes, if one is a king or a queen of a foreign country, then it is probably true the best health care they can get is in the US. The same is true for billionaires like Romney.

But how about some of us US citizens?

That care is not available to us, Mitt.

Kings and Queens, sure - but not us.

I may have more to say on this down the road a bit.

Homely man with horses; two through the Window Metro Studies; I rush to Anchorage airport post office, then meet a man who wants whiskey

It is 1:38 AM and I am just now sitting down to do this blog. This is because I have been busy all day preparing the proposal that I mentioned yesterday. There were a few other little things that I had to attend to - emails to answer, pro-bono photo orders to postpone - that kind of thing. But basically, the day was given entirely to the proposal.

As for this image, it is a picture of a holdover from yesterday's take. That's me on the computer screen, in a photo that Ron Mancil took of me with my camera out by the horses. Some of you may have noticed that when I include a picture taken by someone else in this blog, I first take a picture of that picture, whether it be on an iPhone, computer screen, wedding invitation or whatever.

That's because this blog is an impression of how I see the world through my camera, even when I extend that camera out somewhere and point it at something - maybe me - without actually looking through the lens.

One thing that I notice when I see a picture of myself like this is that I am going downhill fast, growing more homely and ugly every day. My mind's eye never sees me this way. When it envisions me, my mind's eye still pictures a dashing young tall guy of about 37, not a short guy headed towards old age.

But look - here's proof. I am going the way of all mankind; womankind, too. Humankind. And catkind, as we have observed in Royce.

Horsekind, too - although none of these horses look old or homely to me.

Through the Window Metro Study, #9723

Well, I did break away from my computer at 4:00, so I could go to Metro and hear at least a little bit of news on my car radio. When I got there, some of the same good-looking kids that I photographed very recently were on the other side of the window, with a newcomer. I got his name but I had forgotten my iPhone so I didn't record it and I forgot it.

So, to make him feel better about it, I just won't name anybody.

Through the Window Metro Study #3

One of Carmen's friends was there - a lady that she used to work with at Northern Air Cargo. Carmen told me her name, too, and I was certain I would remember, but I forgot.

Oddly enough, whenever I have had my iPhone with me and have actually used to it record the names of people I have photographed, I have always remembered those names - even without opening up the iPhone.

If I forget the phone again, I suppose what I should do is cup my hand to my head, speak the names into it as if I were recording and then maybe I won't forget.

The proposal had to be postmarked before midnight and the only Post Office I know of in the state of Alaska that is open until midnight is the one by the airport. I left the house about 10:15. It takes a little over an hour to drive from here to that post office, but I had give myself a little extra time, just in case somebody hit a moose or something somewhere in front of me and caused traffic to slow down.

I arrived at the Post Office just past 11:20, congratulating myself on making it with time to spare. I had planned to put the package in a priority mail envelope and so had made no label at home, as I would just have to do it at the post office again, anyway.

So I got the priority envelope and then pulled out my packet to get the mailing address off the application materials.

Oh no! Even though I was certain it was, the address was not printed anywhere on the application materials. The logo was, but not the address.

Aha! This time, I had my iPhone with me!

I pulled it out, logged onto the net and quickly found the address.

I then got into the line, which was long and slow, as it always it as this post office just before midnight.

Oh, my goodness! Look at this!

I have grown even more homely and ugly than I was just yesterday, when Ron photographed me with the horses.

Just proves what I said under photo #1.

Joe took the package from me and let me watch as he gave it the March 1 postmark. Joe asked that I not photograph his face, but only his hands.

So that's what I did.

I didn't have enough gas to get home, so I stopped at the Holiday Station by Merrill Field. I noticed this guy sitting by this pile of firewood and I was pretty certain that before I left, he would ask me for money.

Sure enough, just as I was putting the hose back into the pump, he got up, walked over and made his request. He and his brother had just flown in from Hawaii to take in Fur Rendezvous, he said, but they didn't have enough money left to buy whiskey. They needed some whiskey so they could enjoy Fur Rendez. 

They weren't going to start on it tonight, he said, but were going to wait until tomorrow when the events started. Then they would start drinking the whiskey.

"I'm sorry," I told him, "I don't have any cash on me at all and my bank account is down to about $100," all of which was true.

"That's okay," he said. He then went and sat back down.

Then I remembered that when I bought my coffee from Carmen with a credit card, I had seen a quarter and a penny sitting in the slot by the gear shifter.

So I opened the car door, took out the quarter and the penny, walked over and gave it to the man.

"Well, at least you're honest about needing the money for whiskey," I said. "Here's 26 cents. That's all the cash I have."

"Yes," he said. "That's the honest truth. I'm not a panhandler and I'm not homeless. Me and my brother just came all the way from Hawaii to see Fur Rendezvous and we need whiskey."

"You're lucky its warm," I said. 

Regular readers might recall how, a few days ago, I mentioned that there was a mass of cold air sitting to the north of us even as a low pressure system of warm air was spinning toward us from Hawaii.

I had hoped the cold air would win the battle and, for a time, on Saturday, it looked like it might. Then the warm front spun in and took over. The temperature when I took this picture was about 30 degrees (-1 c).

"Yeah, I'm told it gets pretty cold here this time of year," Ilya said.

"It can," I said, "a lot colder than this."

Then we shook hands and parted company.