On the seventh day: Kalib of the chocolate face; Jobe adores his grandpa

Okay. It is Sunday now - the first day of the calendar week, yet the one that much of the world has chose to recognize as the seventh, to be set aside as a day of rest.

To be frank, I do not think that I will rest much today, but I will try to stay away from my work as much as I can force myself to do so and I will spend some time with my daughters and Charlie, who came out and took us to breakfast today and are still here. I will also spend time with Margie, Jobe and Kalib, and probably get in a few words with Caleb, who is in the house but present elsewhere for the NFL pro-football playoffs.

So I will keep this blog post short and chocolate sweet.

I shot a few hundred frames Saturday, but I have not even looked at them yet - with the exception of this one, which is the very last frame that I shot, shortly before we went to bed.

Well, there was this one, too, which I shot not as part of the day's usual take, but on my iPhone, as he lay upon my chest, so that I could quickly send it to Lavina in order to her assure her that baby was doing good here, without her, at his grandparents house.

Not to boast or brag or anything, but, to be quite honest, I can never think of having seen a baby take so strongly and quickly to his grandpa as Jobe has to me. As you can see, he adores me. This is not a rare moment, captured well. This is just how it is with him and me. And it has been this way since he first focused his eyes upon the world and landed them upon my homely, graying, bearded face.

I have adored him for all of this time, and more, as well.

So, for today, the seventh day...

Tavra!

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The wind tries to blow the moon away; Jimmy is a bad good cat; we pick up Kalib and Jobe; beauty at the cave temples

Again, I found myself walking in the hard, cold, wind which has seemed to become perpetual lately - temperature about 0 F. Yesterday afternoon, I heard a forecast on the radio calling for an overnight high wind advisory, with winds gusting up to 80 mph (130 km/h) at some places in this valley and temperatures going to -20 F (-28 C).

That would be quite a wind-chill factor.

Well, the night has past and none of that quite came true here - maybe it did somewhere else in the valley but not here. Still, it was a mighty cold brisk wind out there and when you went walking in it, it let you know it.

Even so, Ubiquitous Raven came sailing by.

On the moon, there was no wind at all. See how still it is up there?

The day before, a triple stop sign had ordered me to stop three times. Now, I was ordered to stop once, but I was on foot, so I did not obey that order.

Well, I guess I stopped to take the picture.

But not because I was ordered to.

If I were a child, and  had a sled...

So, just why did the chicken cross the road? I don't know, and this dog doesn't either. Furthermore, neither one of us cares. If a chicken wants to cross the road, that's the chicken's business.

Why do people make such a big deal about a chicken crossing the road, anyway?

When I left to go on my walk, Jimmy had been sitting on the sill of my office window, looking out. This had made me a bit nervous, as Jimmy can do some pretty bad things when he has the office to himself. He turns off hard drives, erases things from my computer and types gibberish into my stories.

I am not making this up - he does all of these things.

Plus, he loves to push things off counters, desks and tables and watch them fall to the floor.

Even so, he looked so happy in the window sill that I decided to chance it and leave him there.

I came home the back way, through the marsh, hoping that I might find some moose there.

I didn't, but when I came up through our back yard, I saw Jimmy sitting right where I had left him about one hour before.

He had been a good cat.

But then Jimmy is always a good cat, even when he is bad.

I don't know how there could be a better cat than Jimmy.

He is ten-and-a-half years old now.

If he goes before me, which seems quite possible, it will be very hard.

Jacob and Lavina wanted to do some major house cleaning this weekend, so they asked us to take the boys. We agreed and in the late afternoon drove into Anchorage to get them.

As you can see, Anchorage has not been scoured by the same high winds that we have - except for the Anchorage Hillside, populated largely by rich people who every winter endure 100 mph plus winds, but they have a really good view from up there. They can see Cook Inlet, Denali, Foraker and a host of active volcanoes.

The snow did not mostly all blow away there the way it did in Wasilla. Plenty was left behind to weather the big warmup - that warmup now being history.

Here we are, picking up the boys. Muzzy wants to come, too. We will not let him.

Now we are getting ready to leave, but before we do, Lisa stops by. That's her and Jacob in the driveway.

On the way out, we stopped at Taco Bell on Muldoon and found a cop with his lights flashing, parked behind an empty vehicle.

I have no idea what the story was. You could look in the Anchorage Daily News, but I doubt that you will find it there, either.

I could have played the role of the true reporter, gotten out, interviewed the officer, took a picture of any suspect with her hands over her eyes. I could have done something like that. I have those basic skills, you know.

If I had done it, then I could tell you why the cop had stopped behind the empty car.

But I was more interested in eating my burrito than in getting the story.

Nobody can fire me.

This is my blog and if I would rather eat a burrito than report on a cop-stop, I can.

We then drove on to Wasilla. The winds weren't bad at all until we reached the hay flats. Then it felt kind of like being in an airplane, flying through turbulence, except that the bumps and jolts were all lateral - no up and down.

A couple of times, we damn near got blasted out of our lane. I could hear the sound of dust and small pebbles smacking the car.

But we made it. I was glad, too, because if we hadn't have I would never have seen this tanker truck roar through the intersection of the Parks and Palmer-Wasilla highways.

I don't know about you, but, at the end of a long, hard, tough, day, I really enjoy seeing a truck blast through the intersection like this.

It just takes all the stress that I feel and carries it down the road with it.

Poor truck driver! Now he must deal with that stress.

Better him than me.

He's probably tougher than I am, better able to take it.

Truck drivers are known for being tough, able to take it.

Once in the house, Kalib found a flashlight. I found another. We played flashlight games.

Jobe does not know how to use a flashlight, but that did not stop him from joining in the games.

Yes, Kalib had brought his spatula - none of the expensive, fancy toys that he got for Christmas and his birthday. Just his spatula.

And this from India:

Two girls in front of the cave temples of Badami.

I hate to say this, and I mean no offense to any of my fellow Americans, but after one spends a little time in India and then returns to the US, the way people dress here - at least the women - just seems kind of dull and drab by comparison.

The women in India just dress beautifully - even poverty stricken women, begging in the streets.

They remind me of the Navajo saying, "I walk in beauty."

Badami is a long way from Navajo land, but the red rocks kind of remind me of it, as do temples, built in caves - not the same at all but yet evocative of cliff dwellings.

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False front; politically correct and other signs of the time; the wind blows, a special girl is fed, a grasshopper befriended

For some damn reason, we have to pay bills - too many bills, adding up to way too much. So I drove to the Carr's Mall and let Margie out to go inside to the credit union and make our car payment. I then circled the parking lot and saw the half moon hanging over these false fronts - built to remind us here in the Far North of the Old West.

After she paid the bill, Margie got back into the car and we headed off to pay the next bill. We found ourselves directly behind this car, being ordered to think. So I thought and this is what I think: within the framework and social context of the car owner's life, community and media followed, these bumper stickers are all most likely 100 percent politically correct.

Ah... to think what might have been!

If you can't read all of the bumper stickers at this size, you probably can in slide show view.

It seemed pretty ridiculous to me and I didn't want to do it, but, being a law-abiding citizen, I stopped three times, just as the sign ordered. I don't think that my doing so made anybody any safer.

As I walked from the car to the post office, I suddenly saw these characters furiously flapping, coming directly in my direction, flying only about 20 to 30 feet above the parking lot. It would have been a wonderful picture had I been ready but, by the time I could draw and shoot, they had already passed by.

Did you know that I am a duck in human disguise?

It's true. I am. One day, I will tell the story. Or maybe I won't. Maybe I will leave readers to wonder and ponder, "what does he mean - he is a duck in human disguise?"

Melanie and Lisa are probably groaning right now.

After we paid the bills, checked the mail and found more bills that need to be paid, we headed home, where I flailed away to no discernable accomplishment on this computer for a bit and then at 4:00 PM I headed to Metro Cafe. There were two vehicles in line ahead of me and, as I waited, Nola came walking out, headed to her own car with a cup for herself.

She stopped to chat, just for as long as her ears could take the icy bite of this bitter wind that now seems to have set in in perpetuity.

Nola would like to open up a coffee shop of her own one day soon - in Hawaii. 

And when she does, I want to stop by and buy a cup from her.

As for this day, when I got to the window, my gift cards in hand, I discovered that, once again, a kindly, anonymous reader of this blog had bought me an Americano and cinnamon roll.

My cup runneth over.

Trees, as seen from the drive-through line at Metro Cafe, after Nola had fled the wind and got back into her car.

I took the usual drive to sip and drink and so passed by Grotto Iona.

The horses from yesterday were still there, socializing.

And this plow was coming down the road, appearing to scrape ice, yet, after it passed by, all the ice still seemed to be in place.

Maybe some of it was gone. What we need now is snow, lots of snow, to cover all this stuff up and make winter look like winter should.

Right now, it's just cold, dry and windy. Not bitter cold, like it can be, but teens and single digits. But when you get into the wind, it feels pretty cold.

As readers who have stuck with me all week can see, my life this week has been pretty mundane and routine. I sit at my computer all day long, breaking away just long enough to go get a coffee or pay some bills.

Pretty boring stuff. Yet, it never seems boring to me.

Please don't abandon me, though. I will get this blog into some excitement pretty soon.

This is the roof of our house, btw. I have just returned from my coffee break.

And this from India:

Jesse Clithi runs a little day-care center in Bangalore that also functions kind of like a pre-school here in the US. The day after Soundarya and Anil married, Melanie and I stopped by for a visit along with my niece Sujitha, Soundarya's sister, and her fiance Manoj. The students were mostly about three or four years of age - except for one, who was eight.

She had suffered some kind of malady that had left both her brain and her body underdeveloped and so she was the same size as her classmates and, when it came to play, acted much as they did.

Yet, those who know her say that this little girl is very special, that even though her body is small and her language skills limited, she sees and understands many things that might pass by most of us. I have no doubt but what this is true.

On this day, she wanted to eat only if Manu would feed her. He did.

Suji gives the special girl a kiss.

Manu pats her on the head.

When I started this little project of frequently dropping in an image or few from India at the end of a post, I stated that I was doing so in order to let it be known that Soundarya was not and would not be forgotten, but that I would not be posting pictures of Soundarya herself.

I meant my pictures of Soundarya, which I have spent considerable time sorting through, lately, along with those of Anil, but Sujitha took this picture. She emailed it and three others to me as they were the last pictures of Sandy from her camera. She was a little apologetic about the quality of the 3 megapixel camera that she used, but my contention about pictures is that the feeling captured means much more than the technical quality rendered. 

And in this one, she captured the feeling of Soundarya and her Chooo'weet little friend, the grasshopper.

Suji calls Soundaraya, "Soundu," and uses the word with great affection. Soundu would often write to me of Suji and she would call her, "Barbie," also with great affection.

Perhaps I will include some or all of the three remaining pictures from Suji's camera in a subsequent post.

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Icy roads, horse, another coffee gift; I find Margie watching a speech

A little after noon, as the cat, Chicago and I sat on the couch chill'n, Margie worked on the fire. Look at the intensity of the light coming through the back door window! We have not seen light this intense in quite awhile.

I was late getting to my walk. Not until about 3:00. As I began my way up this icy stretch of road, I saw a car coming towards me. I wonder who was in it? Where were they going? What did they wonder about me?

Immediately after my walk, I headed to Metro, fully prepared and expecting to pay for my own coffee today. But Elizabeth wouldn't let me. Someone in North Carolina had bought, not one, but two, coffee cards for me.

Boy, if this keeps up, I may never have to pay for a cup of Metro coffee again - and all thanks to anonymous blog readers.

Thank you, North Carolina reader.

Carmen was too busy visiting others to come to the window, but she did post for a through the Metro window study with this lady, whose name I forget, but I do remember that she teaches a sewing class.

Through the Metro Window Study, # 11,213: Carmen and the Sewing Class Teacher, Elisabeth busy in the foreground

As I prepared to drive out of the Metro parking lot, I saw the moon, over the trees.

On I drove, sipping my coffee, eating my cinnamon roll. When I came to this stretch of road, I thought to myself, "hmmmmm... this looks like a place where there might be horses up ahead."

What do you think, reader? Could I possibly have been correct? Could there be horses ahead?

Sure enough, there was. If you don't believe me, here's proof. How could I have known such a thing? The horses must have whispered it to me on the wind, which continues to blow.

On my way home. I had thought that I would listen to the President's speech at the Memorial Service for the shooting victims in Tucson, but it was not on the radio.

When I stepped back into the house, I found Margie watching the speech on TV. I sat down beside her. Right after I did, President Obama announced that Congresswoman Gabrielle Giffords had opened her eyes. The TV camera zoomed in on First Lady Michelle Obama and Gifford's husband, astronaut Mark Kelly.

And this one from India:

Yesterday, I posted a picture of a young man and a girl standing amidst the ruins of Hampi, in front of a temple with a roof supported by elegant stone columns.

Today, I will take just a little more time so that I can tell you that the structure is called Vittala Temple, was built in the 15th century in honor to Lord Vishnu, and there is something special about those stone columns - music comes from them.

If one taps on the columns, they ring at different pitches. Our timing was not right to hear them, but there are groups of musicians who sometimes gather here and perform musical works on the columns. They do not use their hands as this couple is doing, but wooden mallets that better bring out the sound.

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Moon behind the trees, icy road, free coffee and four studies of Pioneer Peak in the howling wind

As I walked, the half-moon tried to hide behind the trees. It didn't work. I spotted it, anyway.

I bet you can, too.

The wind was howling - I don't know how strong, but very strong. And the road was icy. It was kind of hard to walk, but I needed to walk, so I walked anyway and I never took a fall. I need to get some crampons to put on my shoes.

I used to have some. I don't know what happened to them.

Margie has some, but they don't fit on my shoes.

Off in the distance, a jet flew overhead. Judging from the direction that it was headed, it must have been on its way to Russia.

I suppose it might have landed before it got to Russia.

Or maybe it made a left turn, or even a right one, and then went and flew over the North Pole.

Despite the fierce wind that blew, Ubiquitous Raven came flying by. He was alone, though. I saw no other ravens on this walk. Usually, I see several.

A moose had walked by here, back when the snow was still good.

Other than my walk and coffee break, I spent the whole day right here, over 12 hours, working in my computer with Jimmy always here to help - and Pistol-Yero, too. I met the kitten seen on the screen in India. Sad story. Sad, sad, sad story.

Why did God design life to be like this?

When I arrived at Metro Cafe, Elizabeth handed me my coffee and cinnamon roll and told me that it was already paid for. As usual, she didn't know by whom. A woman, she said, whereas last time it was a man.

I know for certain that Akponygirl has bought me coffee. If this was again from you, thank you. If it was from someone else, then thank you, whoever you are.

I enjoyed it. And I enjoyed the cinnamon roll. Elisabeth cut it in half for me so that I would not eat the whole thing, but I ate the whole thing, anyway.

It's probably for the best. I was going to give the other half to Margie, but she's diabetic and it had a great deal of sugar on it.

Pioneer Peak in the Howing Wind, Study #1: The reason the sky is this color is because the wind, which is fierce, is hurling glacier dust through the air. The reason there is no snow on the ground is because, prior to the big meltdown, the wind, unrestrained here by trees or much of anything, scoured almost all of it away and then the tiny bit that was left melted.

Pioneer Peak in the Howing Wind, Study #2: You can get an idea how windy it was.

Pioneer Peak in the Howing Wind, Study #3: I actually got out of the car to take this one, but I kept getting struck in the face not only by dust but by small pebbles that were traveling with the wind. I feared one might strike me in the eye, or scratch and chip my lens, so I got back into the car pretty quick.

This guy had this in the back of his truck, but it got blown out. Now he is trying to put it back into his truck.

Pioneer Peak in the Howing Wind, Study #4: When Kalib came home from work, he reported that a number of his co-workers, all of whom use this same parking lot, lost car windows on this day, after the wind hurled pebbles into them with enough force to blow them out.

And this one from India:

Among the ruins of Hampi.

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