A brief conversation with a black horse

Up ahead, I could see the black horse standing on its hind legs, holding one hoof in the air in a way that reminded me of a human hitchhiker. I sensed nonsense and trouble, and so resolved not to stop for anything. Yet, I could not just be rude, so I slowed to a crawl and rolled my window down. The horse dropped down to all fours.

"Hey, Bill!" the horse shouted as I rolled into conversation range. "I need a ride into town. Open your car door so I can get in!"

"No," I protested. "You're too big! You can't fit in my car! And you might poop on the seat!"

"C'mon, Bill, lemme in! I really need to get to town. I have a haircut scheduled, and a rally to go to."

"No!" I insisted, as I rolled slowly by. "You're a horse! Horses don't get rides from people - horses give rides to people!"

"If you don't come back and give me a ride, then one day I will give you a ride!" the black horse threatened after I had rolled completely past. "I'll buck you off and then I'll stomp on you!"

I drove away. I did not go to town at all. I went home instead, and ate a cupcake - chocolate, with banana frosting.

Lynxton had made it, especially for me. It was damn good.

Kalib reaches out and touches a falling snowflake

Yesterday, out in the back yard, I took a very nice picture of Kalib, his grandma and a pair of pruning shears and decided immediately that, no matter what else I photographed that day, that would be my single picture for this post, as I am still in single picture mode.

But, that was yesterday - today it is snowing, lightly, tiny flakes drifting down, and so I am running this image instead.

Kids get off the bus and go home

Truly, I am tempted to put in one of my multi-picture posts and to tell little stories with each picture, because a good number of pictures have accumulated in my archives these past two or three days and there are a multitude of little stories within them - including Lynxton on his one month birthday, which was yesterday and he came to the house.

But I haven't the time. Or the energy. I am way behind where I had planned to be by now and instead of racing along I am crawling toward my deadline, inch by inch, barely getting anywhere, but still I must get it done.

So, I post just one picture - this one - and not a single written story today.

This will change, soon. I will be shooting and posting and writing like mad, like a man insane, which right now I am pretty convinced is what I am.

In line to get John Baker's autograph

The AFN convention is now more than half-way through its second day and here am I, in Wasilla, unable to attend a minute of it because press deadlines push. So I missed Iditarod champion John Baker's opening day keynote address...

...but I was there the day before when Baker addressed the AFN Elders and Youth Conference. His words have been reported in widespread articles and news broadcasts and I am too pressed for time to write a story about it for this blog, other than to note he spent 16 years working patiently, quietly and determinedly towards the victory that would make him, at 48, the first Alaska Native to win the Iditarod in 35 years.

Most of that time, he was out in the Iñupiat country of Northwest Alaska near his Kotzebue home, alone with his dogs.

Baker is softspoken and quiet, and paid his highest tribute to his biggest supporter, his mother, who, as he was winning his race, was entering a hard battle with cancer.

Pictured here are several youth from the Arctic Slope, all members of the North Slope Borough Mayor's Arctic Youth Advisory Council, waiting in line to have him autograph their copies of the First Alaskans magazine that came out in conjunction with AFN and featured John Baker on the cover.

I will include all these MAYAC youth - and John Baker, too - in my next and perhaps final, perhaps not, issue of Uiñiq, which will be out very soon.

The youth pictured above: Aileen Frankson, originally of Point Hope, now living in Barrow, Danielle Sims of Kaktovik, Simon Aguvluk of Wainwright, Justina Neakok and Hilary Leman, both of Barrow.

Jesse Sanchez: the Barrow Whaler who showed up at the championship game wearing pink

Jesse Sanchez of Barrow wore pink gloves onto the playing field last Saturday when the Barrow Whalers met the Nikiski Bulldogs in the state championship game.

Sophomore starter Sanchez did it to remind spectators - and anyone who happens to see this photo - that October is National Breast Cancer Awareness Month and to encourage them to support both the battle against cancer and the women afflicted by it in any way they can.

His own mother has had two bouts with cervical cancer, so Jesse knows what the fight is all about.

So does his sister, Mariska, a Barrow cheerleader, who got into trouble for wearing a t-shirt in support of breast cancer patients emblazoned with the words, "I love boobs" to school.

As readers know, the Whalers lost that championship game.

Yet, even within that loss, they scored their little wins here and there.

Jesse's pink gloves was among those little wins.

Now, as for me, my time is so full and I have so much that feels so impossible that I must accomplish over the next four or five days that I am putting this blog on "one picture a day" mode. Don't be surprised if I miss a day or two altogether - like I did yesterday.

Once everything is out of the way, I anticipate having a brief period of time when I can go at this like it is really what I do.