I take an eight-dog walk

Dogs numbers 1, 2, 3, 4 & 5: I came upon them at the Rocket House - Tequila and four others, who I think may be her pups, but I don't know. As regular readers know, Tequila always tries to act tough, even though I know otherwise.

On this walk, however, she was nothing but friendly.

"Hey Bill!" she shouted out in a welcoming bark. "Want to come in and have some coffee?"

"Who made it?" I shouted back.

"I did!" she barked proudly.

"No thanks," I answered.

I have never met a dog yet who could brew a decent cup of coffee.

I walked on, leaving Tequila and her kids to whine and pout.

Dogs numbers 6, 7 and 8: I saw them coming up Tamar as I was going down. The situation looked worrisome. I was reminded of the lone, western hero, his six-shooter Colt hanging from his belt as he walk down the street toward a quartet of sneering gunslingers, his six-shooter hanging low off his belt.

Except my Colt was a Canon camera and it doesn't shoot anything but pictures.

Oh, my goodness! I can see that I am in trouble! It is Button, Duke and Sugar, with their sidekick Robert - feared in every corner of Alaska! I know that I am about to get mauled to death.

Sure enough, they ripped me to pieces.

And then, leaving my torn remains lying on the icy road, they went about their business, looking for another walker to maul.

Somehow, I pulled my shredded self back together, got up and walked on - a one-armed shadow of my former self.

Through the Window Metro Study, # 4186: At the usual time in the afternoon, I drove to Metro for my coffee and found the friendly and wry smiles of Elizabeth, Greg and Carmen. It was good - great. Unlike the dog, Tequila, they know how to brew a cup of coffee at Metro.

So I drove away, drinking and savoring, putting myself back together after having been ripped apart by friendly dogs.

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Four studies of the young writer, Shoshana; tulip for an ill lady

Truly, I must keep it brief today, so I begin with:

Study of the young writer, Shoshana, # 3472: The young writer hands a pen to a customer so that he can sign his credit card in order to pay for his coffee.

Study of the young writer, Shoshana, # 2743: The young writer pours cream into a cup in preparation to make my Americano.

Study of the young writer, Shoshana, # 4732: Shoshana in black and white.

Study of the young writer, Shoshana, # 4273: The young writer works her way through a crowd of gold miners as they study gold mining equipment online via a laptop computer.

Through the Metro window study, #8222: Carmen, who just had a birthday, learns that my Margie is ill and feeling terrible. Carmen gives me a red tulip and tiny white flower to take to her.

Margie with her tulip and tiny white flower after putting them in a vase with water.

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Exceedingly brief conservations with two moose, three horses and maybe another horse, maybe not; Bus, and Mary in the Grotto

After warming up the car for a bit, I jumped in and headed for coffee. I had barely gone a 100 yards or so down the road when I spotted a moose standing by the McDaniel's house. Like us, the McDaniels were among the first residents of this subdivision when it was new, nearly 30 years ago. 

Back then, perhaps because we all moved in at about the same time just after Charlie Bumpus had cut the new subdivision from semi-wilderness, we in the neighborhood all knew each other and we knew each other's kids. Pretty much everybody got along and looked after each other and their kids and it was a good place to grow kids.

It is not that way today. We who are still here from back then still know each other but for the most part this has become a neighborhood much like you might expect to find in California, where few neighbors know each other by name and everybody tends to live in their own world and at least a few live in paranoia.

I do know this moose, however. I have come upon this moose thousands of times over the past 30 years. It is a moose that always misinterprets things and each time I see it, it attempts to engage me in futile conversations that go nowhere.

So I hoped the moose would not see me, that I could drive by unnoticed.

"Hey, Bill!" the moose dashed my hope with a shout, "do you know whose kid this is?"

"What kid?" I answered, flummoxed, for I could see no kid.

"You blind?" the moose fired back. "This kid right here. The only kid in sight. For half-an-hour now, I've been asking the kid who his parents are, so I can take him home. Damn kid won't say a word."

"That's not a kid," I answered. "It's a lawn ornament."

"You think I'm stupid?" the moose retorted. "I know a kid when I see a kid. Now, whose kid is this?"

I had to get going and I could see that the conversation would be useless.

"Oh... yes...  I can see that you are right and I do recognize that kid. That's Alphonso, son of Rudy Guiliani, would-be President and the former Mayor of New York City."

"Okay, thanks! That's all I wanted to know," the moose said. It then turned its attention to the lawn ornament.

"Hey kid - pack a lunch bag of twigs and bark. We're going to New York City! I'm taking you home!"

I took advantage of the distraction and drove away as quickly as I could.

I stopped at Metro, bought a coffee and a cinnamon roll from Elizabeth and drove away. Remember how, just so short a time ago, it was completely dark during coffee break time? Well, look at it now.

I had not been by Grotto Iona for awhile or seen the Mahoney horses, so I thought I would swing by.

As I neared, I saw this school bus passing by the Grotto - A Place of Prayer. The driver did not stop to pray, but I'll bet he wanted to.

"Hey Bill!" the first Mahoney horse that I spotted shouted out at me. "Look at me! I know how to sleep walk! I'm walking in my sleep right now!"

"Pleasant dreams!" I shouted back.

"Hey Bill," the second horse shouted. "I know how to poop in the snow! Look, I just did."

I did not know what to say to that, so I said nothing.

"Hey Bill," this creature shouted out at me. "I've got ten bucks for you if you can tell me what I am, right now! No hestitation! Ten bucks!"

To be quite honest, I have not totally figured this creature out. Sometimes, I think its a mule. Look at the head - there is kind of a donkey shape to that head and mules are half donkey.

But I have known a few mules and they did not look quite like this.

Sometimes I have wondered if it might be some kind of horse bred special for cold climes. Before I made this post, I dropped by Facebook to see if Ron Mancil was there. Ron knows all the Mahoney stock well and I figured he could tell me.

But Ron was not on Facebook.

So I remain unsure.

"C'mon now, Bill!" the creature shouted back. "What am I?"

I had to come up with something, right or wrong.

"You're a creature of God!"

"Yes!" he shouted. "Come and get your ten bucks!"

So I got out of the car and went over. "Climb on my back and we'll go get it!"

So I climbed onto the back of this creature of God. The creature bucked ten times and on the tenth sent me flying nose first into the snow.

"Ha! A Creature of God!" the creature shouted. "Fooled you! I'm Satan's spawn!"

I staggered back to my feet. The final horse turned away from me. "What a dupe!" the horse muttered. "What a dupe! I have nothing to say to you. Nothing at all."

Humiliated, I climbed back into the car and pointed it toward home. Then I decided to stop for a few minutes at the Grotto, to see if I could regain my composure, to see if I could find some peace there.

Even though I am not Catholic and hardly know what to believe at all, everytime that I have ever stopped at the Grotto, even when beset by bitter grief, I have felt a bit of peace there.

This day was no exception.

Coming down Wards, I heard another voice shout out, "Hey Bill!" It was this bull moose, who has lost his antlers and must grow a new set.

"What?" I answered.

"Bethca can't see me!"

"I can too see you!" I countered.

"No you can't."

"Yes I can!"

"No you can't!"

"Yes I can!"

"No you can't."

I gave up, went home and ate some Kracker Jacks. 

I am getting tired of Kracker Jacks.

For four months now, I have been eating nothing but Kracker Jacks; Kracker Jacks everyday. Kracker Jacks for breakfast, Kracker Jacks for lunch, Kracker Jacks for dinner, Kracker Jacks for snacks.

I am tired of Kracker Jacks. And the prizes are nothing like they were when I was a kid.

I thought about getting my rifle and putting some moose on the table, but it was the wrong season for that.

So I tore open another box of Kracker Jacks.

Sure enough, there was a two-deminsional paper moose inside.

When I was a kid, it would have been a plastic moose - in three dimensions.

I tell you - America is going downhill!

I live on Sarah's Way in Wasilla, Alaska - so I know. No joke. I live on Sarah's Way. I am proud to say, though, that my street was named for a very good Sarah - Sarah Bumpus, daughter of the late Charlie Bumpus, a former mayor of Wasilla and builder of this subdivision.

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Depending on your monitor, pictures will appear larger and be much more impressive

Three trucks, three cats and a fire

Too much to do. Current events keep overwhelming desires and ambitions. I had an important task that had to be completed on Friday, thus I spent all day Thursday and Friday working on it - temporarily pushing my Kivgiq editing to the side.

Now I have another task that must be completed by the end of the day Tuesday and, except for going to town to pick up Margie on Saturday, I kept my Kivgiq take pushed to the side and that task was the only thing that I worked on.

I had thought that I could finish it over the weekend, but it remains in a state of chaos, so my goal now is to finish it before I go to bed tonight and then send it on its way in the morning, so I can get back to Kivgiq.

I am determined to get back to Kivgiq, and to do with it just what I stated I would.

So I really have no time for this blog right now at all. 

None. Zero seconds - that's how much time I have for it. ZERO SECONDS.

I will keep it going anyway - but simple and short.

With that in mind, yesterday I determined that I would take just one picture for this blog and I would make certain that it was a fairly dull image so that when I put it in this post and looked at it I would not have much to waste my time writing about it.

This is is. A blue Dodge Ram pickup truck.

I parked next to it when Margie and I took yesterday's lunch at McDonald's.

I know - this confession is going to cause me grief. I will be scolded and reprimanded on multiple fronts for taking Margie to McDonald's and thus ruining the health of the both of us.

But it was Sunday. Margie had come down with whatever had brought Kalib and Jobe down. She was not up to cooking, neither was I and anyway nobody has done any serious shopping around here for awhile and there nothing to fix for lunch.

So we went to McDonald's. Their new Angus burgers are actually very good. It was cheap. We could sit in the car with the heater going so it was warm.

And we got to look at this blue pickup truck.

I was even privileged to be able to take a photo of it.

Thus, I had all that I needed to make today's post.

I could keep it very short and simple.

One picture, plus one, two, or possibly three sentences. No more than that.

That is why I took this single boring picture of a blue pickup truck at McDonald's.

So that I could keep this post short and brief.

This will be my goal all week - until all my tasks and Kivgiq are done:

To keep these posts short and brief.

Then, this morning, as I was eating breakfast - steel cut oatmeal with walnuts, peaches and blackberries - one cat lay down in front of the wood stove and two more sauntered by.

No matter how brief one sincerely wants to keep his post, when something so dramatic and exciting as this takes place, one must go into action.

So I did.

And here they are:

Pistol, Jimmy, and Chicago by today's fire.

And this from India: 

Two trucks, passing in opposite directions.

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I drive to town through a beautiful part of America to pick Margie up; Kalib and Jobe; the wind blows; moose die in front of cars

It was time to go pick Margie up from her latest stint at Jacob and Lavina's to help care for Kalib and Jobe. When I took off about mid-afternoon, A Prairie Home Companion was on the radio. Soon, the song, America, the Beautiful was performed. As I happened to be driving in a particularly beautiful part of America, I lifted my camera and shot a frame through the windshield, just as they sang about "spacious skys" and "amber waves of grain."

Around the next bend, I came upon this car, sporting a decal of a grenade on the rear window. That grenade is a little hard to see at this size, but, depending on the size of your monitor, it stands out in slide show view.

In town, gas was a bit cheaper than out here. I wonder what the price will be next week? 

On my way to Jacob and Lavina's house.

I unlocked the door and entered the house. It was very quiet, as if no one was there. I was pretty sure someone was, so I headed up the stairs. At the top, I came upon Martigny.

Margie was resting in the living room. 

Jobe was taking a nap on Kalib's bed. As for Kalib and his parents, they had gone downtown to see some of the Anchorage Fur Rendezvous stuff, like the snow sculptures. As for me, I had no time for Fur Rendez on this day. I just wanted to pick up Margie and head back to Wasilla as quickly as possible.

But we could not head back with Jobe asleep and his parents and brother away.

After a bit, Jobe began to wake up. He had a cold, was not feeling well, and was a bit groggy.

Jobe's little feet.

I do a self-portrait of Jobe and I. I see I should have washed my hair that day.

Oh well.

About half-an-hour after I arrived, the rest of the family came home. Lavina reported that it had been very cold downtown, that the wind had been blowing, picking up the snow and hurling it through the air. The flying snow had stung everybody's faces.

But I know from experience that if I could have gone downtown I would have saw many people frolicking, riding the carnival rides and just having fun.

Lavina was not feeling well, either. Kalib needed a nap. Margie picked him up and carried him to his room. He was not pleased by this and vocally expressed his displeasure, but, once down, Kalib soon fell asleep.

I had been holding Jobe, but I gave him to his mom and then went and sat back down.

Jobe wanted me back. How could I refuse?

Finally, we just had to go. Jobe was not pleased.

Out on the road, we came upon Jacob, who had been walking Muzzy.

The wind buffeted and rocked the car as we drove home. If you were to view this in slide-show mode, you would see that those two signs have pictures of moose on them, as a warning to drivers. Another caution sign, just when you enter the valley, states that 198 moose have been killed by moose-car collisions in the valley so far this winter.

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