Moon over bare trees; picnic table in the nightwind; Kivgiq fans - please! Don't give up on me! I am plugging away!

By necessity, I must keep this blog exceedingly brief today. Therefore, I present to you the waxing new moon, as it appeared on my walk yesterday evening. I took this picture a bit after 7:00 PM, as lingering daylight slowly faded. 

Yes, although we will not reach the equinox for another 11 days, the season of darkness is over. Until the equinox, our days may still technically be shorter than they are for those of you live in the mid and lower latitudes, but, because of our long, lingering periods of dawn and twilight, they already feel longer.

On Tuesday, in response to the picture of this table that I posted, Fanshaw left this comment:

I'm no stranger to frozen lakes but I am mystified by the power poles. Why? How?

I gave Fanshaw a brief, deceptive, answer, but promised to go back at night and take a picture to illustrate the purpose.

I almost changed my mind, because, once again, the wind was howling and so I did not expect there to be any activity on the lake.

Still, a promise is a promise, so I drove down and parked my car (the headlights that you see glaring off the ice to the left) got out, and struggled off toward the table. This picture proved to be a huge challenge to take, because the wind was so damn strong I could hardly make any forward progress against it. I would push my way forward two or three steps and then it would push me backwards and I would have to start again.

And it was cold in that wind. It was damn cold. I pulled my hood up to give my ears a little more protection but the wind blasted into that hood, caused it to billow up like a big, round sail, practically lifted me off the ice and sent me twice as far backwards as I had already progressed.

I didn't give up, though, and finally I made it to the table.

Now it ought to be clear why there are power poles here. Lots of people like to purhase pizzas from the Pizza Hut just beyond and then sit at this table and eat the pizza while they watch figure skaters slide, twirl and dance across the ice as hockey players smash each other in the face.

The journey back to the car was much swifter than the one from, because that wind treated me just like I was a sail and sent me shooting across the ice at blinding speed.

It was kind of scary, though, because you can see that the ice is not smooth but rippled and I feared I might fall down and damage my titanium shoulder.

I am most grateful to have this titanium shoulder, but I liked my real one a lot better.

Now - for you fans of Kivgiq who are about to give up on me - don't! I am slowly inching forward. Lots to try to figure out, and my time keeps going off in unexpected divergent directions.

Anyway, Kivgiq fans, just to assure you that I am sticking with it, I am posting this picture of some of you, yourselves, the Kivgiq fans, laughing as Vernon Elavgak of the Barrow Dancers becomes a pink-haired lady and does a funny dance during their amazing and beautiful Kalukaq performance.

Next week - I expect it to happen next week. Don't expect to see it all, though. I've got way more than I can ever show, even if I greatly overdo it blog style.

(Although I did this post in the morning, I set it to post in the afternoon in order to give yesterday's post, which went up late, a little more time at the top of the pile.)

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When no other spatula will do - another spatula will just have to do; two women on opposite sides of the road

As Kalib and Jobe have had but a small presence in this blog as of late, I back up now to Saturday night, when I went to their house to pick up Margie after the Fur Face beard contest. As I walked up the stairs, I saw a little face peeking over the safety gate at me.

Who the hell was it?

Why, it was Jobe!

And he was damn glad to see his grandpa.

Actually, I back up even a little further now - to just before I went to the beard contest, when I dropped Margie off. When we arrived, Jobe was napping and Kalib and his dad were out walking and playing in the nearby frozen and snowy park.

They soon arrived home and Kalib was carrying golf balls. Apparently, there had been some kind of golf tournament out in that park, probably associated with Anchorage Fur Rendezvous.

Some of the golfers had lost their balls.

Kalib had found them.

Margie helped Kalib out of his coat and then I left to find Charlie and his beard.

Now, back to late at night - to just before I took Margie to the car and drove her home. Kalib's spatula appeared, looking just like it always had. As regular readers know, for Kalib the Spatula Kid there was one spatula and one spatula only.

No other spatula would do.

But this was a different spatula.

His parents found it on ebay and it was identical to the spatula that got lost, an event that caused Kalib to pick up and glom onto a pair of tongs. They snatched it right up.

You will note that even though Kalib now has his same/different spatula back, he still carries his tongs.

Kalib is becoming quite expert at manipulating those tongs.

Self-portait: me, Kalib and Jacob.

As for the Iditarod Restart - I just had too much to do and could not take the time to go. I felt bad about it, but there were all kinds cameras there, operated by amateur and pro alike. There will be no shortage of images.

And this one from India:

Two ladies walking on opposite sides of the road at dusk.

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One study of the young writer, Shoshana, involving chicken soup; three buses and a really tight squeeze

Taking my one break away from the computer from just after I got up to just before I went to bed, at 4:00 PM I headed to Metro cafe to get my Americano. There, Shoshana greeted me with a bowl of chicken soup.

Shoshana's mother, Tobi, had made the soup and knowing that Margie was sick, Shoshana thought a bowl might do her some good.

Hence we have:

Study of the Young Writer, Shoshana, #21,324: Shoshana brings chicken soup for my ill wife.

Shoshana was a little surprised when I raised my camera to photograph her with the soup. I am not certain why, since I photograph just about everything, but I am pleased that she was, as her reaction gave the picture an added touch.

Bus # 1: spotted driving into a sunbeam as I was driving the soup home to Margie.

Margie was surprised and touched when I presented the soup to her.

In the evening, Margie heated up the soup. She took her first spoonful even before she could sit down. She pronounced it excellent. She shared a small bowl with me. It was delicious - seasoned just right, with an elegant touch of broccoli.

Thank you, Shoshana.

Thank you, Tobi.

And this from India: the really tight squeeze

Buses #2 and #3:

On Monday, I included a picture of two trucks passing by each other while traveling in opposite directions. One reader, Mrs Gunka, commented that it was "a tight squeeze."

So I decided it was time to show this, a really tight squeeze.

Furthermore, notice that there is a surprisingly large gap between our taxi and the bus ahead. No matter how tight, in India, no such gap can be left unfilled for but a fraction of a moment.

Just as nature abhors a vacuum, the Indian highway abhors a gap in traffic.

 A guy on a motor scooter shoots the gap as the buses slip by each other.

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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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Charlie battles his way to the championship round, where he finds himself fighting beard-to-beard against fierce lady competitor

Yesterday, I received this invitation from Charlie via email:

Hello to all!
 
Tomorrow at U.A.A. there will be an event of the proportions that many may never be experienced again with regard to FACIAL HAIR . I will be competeing against some of the finest mountain men, bearded ladies, olde tyme moustaches, and mutton chops this side of the Chugach Mountains! The event is free to watch and will be taking place at the UAA cafeteria in the Campus Center Building and the start time is at 7:30 P.M. for the competetion. I will be there to sign autographs and take pictures with your small children earlier than that, but please keep your clothes on and keep the scissors at home. It is a modest commuter campus after all! 
 
I hope you all can join us for a really great time!
 
Take care,
 
Charlie

So Thursday night, I drove Margie into town and we went to observe Charlie compete in the beard contest. This is just how we found him, before his turn to take the stage.

Rex had come to observe, not to participate, but Charlie convinced him to enter. Charlie tried to convince me to enter, too, but I did not. Rex's friend Todd Davy Crocket showed up in his coonskin cap with his beard flowing and he entered, too.

Both Rex and Todd competed in the grizzly category. Contestants start out on the stage but are then invited to come down onto the floor where anyone who wants can step up to observe, stroke, and take pictures of their beards at will.

This lady, Sofia, who would enter the ladies beard competition, took a picture of herself with Rex and Todd.

As he was posing, Rex kept his eyes right on the camera.

A pair of hands compares the beards of Rex and Todd. Rex would survive the first round of elimination, but would not place among the top 3.

There were seven categories in all, including, to my great surprise, a category for ladies. The moment Alyx Shroy walked onto the stage, I knew she was going to win, and she did. 

Her beard is made from the hair of a friend who cut it off about a-year-and-a-half ago. Alyx cares for this beard as meticulously as if she had grown it herself and sometimes braids dreadlocks into it.

The last group to compete was Freestyle - Charlie's group. Anything could go in this group and anyone could compete, male or female.

I could see that the competition was tough, yet, when I looked at Charlie and his beard, I felt pretty confident that he could win.

If he did, it would mean Alyx would be one of the those he would have to face off in the championship round.

But I am getting ahead of myself. Charlie had not won anything yet. Soon, he had to submit to the beard-feelers in the crowd.

One of the beard feelers was Alyz, the lady winner. She closely examined the beard of the man who she might possibly have to compete with for the championship.

Sofia popped up to take a picture of herself with Charlie. 

Sure enough, Charlie won the blue ribbon for his division.

As the judges took a break, Charlie posed with some of the family members who had come to cheer him on.

Then Charlie stepped back onto the stage along with all the other winners that he would have to compete against for the championship.

One can never know for certain what judges might say, but I saw only person who struck me as having a chance to beat Charlie and that was Alyx.

This is terribly embarrassing for me. The mustachioed lady with her hand in the air above Charlie's head told me she reads this blog, and she will surely read this entry. She told me her name but I had left my iPhone in the car so I did not have it to write in but I memorized it and was certain I would remember it later.

Now I have forgotten it.*

I could not get away with this if I were writing this for the New York Times, but for this blog, I can get away with it. In this blog, I have no boss but me.

Anyway, in the picture, she is doing the crowd test. One by one, she raised her hand over all the contestants as the crowd cheered for their favorite. The judges would have the final say, but it might be kind of hard to go against the crowd.

When she held her hand over Charlie's head, the crowd went nuts. It was clearly the loudest and most enthusiastic cheering so far.

*Update: My boss told me that I could not let such a horrible omission stand, so I hired a stealthy detective at the rate of $21,232 an hour and sent him out into the world to find her name. He succeeded: The mustachioed lady is Sarena Hackenmiller. I hope my expensive, stealthy, detective spelled her name right.

But you know what? The crowd went nuts for the bearded lady, too. 

Yet, I am pleased to announce that Charlie won the championship round of the Winterfest Beard Contest and so got crowned. 

Charlie and his court - Alyz Shroy, first runner-up and Douglas Renfro, second.

Charlie gave Melanie credit for being his beard-stylist. He won two tickets to the Fur Rendezvous Miners and Trappers Ball. Guess who is going to go with him?

There, he will also compete in the Fur Rendez beard contest.

Before we all left, Margie had to handle Charlie's beard handles for herself.

I then dropped her off at Jacob and Lavina's, so that she could stay for a day or two and do some babysitting.

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