Following a week of aggravation, the day turns good - the cake is baked, the candle blown out

The previous week had been one of exasperation and frustration. There were the computer problems that I have already whined about. While I had completed a load of billable work, I had run into a red-tape glitch that took weeks to work out and had been unable to invoice and so we had gone completely broke, with all the aggravation and frustration that brings on.

Among the bills that went upaid was cable TV, so we lost our TV service. This does not really bother me because I don't watch much TV, but Margie and Caleb miss it. Technically, Caleb was supposed to pay the bill, but he managed to go broke, too.

And then Pistol, who had been abused as a kitten and came to us with some bad habits that took a lot of time, patience and love to undo, had suddenly reverted and had peed several times in our bedroom, in this office and on the foot mat by the front door, making a very bad smell and giving us a whole new, very complicated, problem to deal with.

Then, yesterday, an amazing thing happened. The day began in aggravation as I struggled with this computer to pull up, process and post the three pictures that appeared in yesterday's blog, but once I got that out of the way, everything changed. 

I had a ton of undone work backed up, but, with this computer malfunctioning, there was nothing I could do about it. We had no money, but there was plenty of food in the house and Jacob, Lavina, Melanie, Charlie and Lisa brought more with them when they came to celebrate Caleb's birthday.

I had two happy grandsons, scurrying all about, laughing and having fun.

As there was not a thing I could do to remedy the aggravations, I just placed them all aside and forgot about them. And the day turned out great. I relaxed. I laughed. I enjoyed my children and my grandchildren and cats. The food, fresh off the barbecue grill, was delicious, so much so that I over indulged and so, late at night, I took a long bicycle ride and paid a visit to the Mahoney horses, then stopped at Grotto Iona and on the way home stopped to visit and photograph some friendly neighbors, Joseph and Ruth, brother and sister to the young photographer, George, who appeared in this blog last Thursday.

So when the day ended, I felt quite happy and content.

I did face a major problem, though - a potential great aggravation. I had shot  A LOT of pictures. Given the state of this computer, trying to take even a superficial look at them would be a terrible aggravation and would waste tremendous time. So I would only go for one picture. Which one?

As explained yesterday, we had celebrated Caleb's birthday without him. He did come home earlier than we expected but went straight to bed, so he could get some sleep before going to work. But he did wake up for cake. So of course, that had to be the picture. 

Knowing that it would take my computer hours to transfer the RAW images off the card, onto the harddrive and for the thumbnails to appear in Lightroom, I set the process in motion just before I went to bed and let the computer deal with it as I slept.

The task was completed this morning. I grabbed the Lightroom slider and scrolled down through the thumbnails, all of which appeared as gray rectangles. About three quarters of the way down, I stopped scrolling, hoping that I would have stopped not too far from the cake pictures. 

I then waited a few minutes for the computer to fill in the gray with pictures. I had stopped right on the cake pictures! I would not have to suffer the aggravation of searching for them. Having had that kind of luck, I figured I might as well go for three pics. 

So here they are: Caleb holding Kalib as his birthday cake is brought to him and people sing, each in their own unique key, "happy birthday." the CKaleib's blowing out the candle, and Kalib cutting the cake.

Before today is over, I expect to have money in my bank account. Now I must get out and do some serious computer shopping - because I have a huge amount of work to do and I am behind schedule. 

View images as slides

On Soundarya's birthday, cake was cut on three continents, there were animals: small, big, newborn, passed on and symbolized

Manoj, fiance and more to Sujitha Ravichandran, Soundarya's younger sister, put out a request for Sandyz birthday that we who loved her should celebrate with cake for us and her. Although I had put up my birthday remembrance on the 12th, so that her family and friends in India could see it early on her birthday of April 13, I waited until the morning of the 13th here to begin our celebration.

Margie then mixed up a cake and put it in the oven, to bake for Soundarya. As it baked, I went walking. I came upon a frozen puddle that held this face - or faces. One can clearly see the ears and face of a cat, its chin resting atop its front paws. Yet, look closely and you will see that within the face of the cat there is a human face as well.

One of those little odd things that happens in nature, and on a day such as this.

Cats played an enormous role between Sandy and me. A gigantic role. I have been told from multiple good authorities that cats are very rare in India, but for Sandy and me, they were ubiquitous; they were everywhere.

As I walked in the morning of the 13th, her birthday, it was late night of her birthday in India. So I placed a Skype call over the local AT&T 3g network to Sujitha in Bangalore. It was an exquisitely beautiful morning - the sky clear and blue, the snow on the mountains bright against it, the clean, frosted air wonderfully chilled and pleasant.

So I tried to describe what I was seeing and experiencing to Niece Suji, which is very different than anything she would ever see in Bangalore.

It seemed to me that my description was inadequate. I wanted her to somehow sense and feel it herself. Suddenly, it struck me - I could break the ice of a puddle with my foot and let her hear the sound of the ice cracking and crunching beneath my shoe.

I stopped, held the phone near to the puddle and then crunched it repeatedly with my foot.

Sujitha, I am pleased to say, was pleased.

After Margie baked and frosted the cake, she cut it into three pieces - one for me, one for her and one for Soundarya. Jim observed. That's Margie's thumb, there at the edge of the plate.

I was a little unsure as to what to do with Sandy's piece of cake. I could eat it myself, but that didn't feel right. "Why don't you take it out back and leave it for her where we have buried the cats and dogs?" Margie suggested.

So I took Soundarya's plate to the back door and then opened it. Jim shot out ahead of me and led me across the grass in the direction of our pet cemetery, but stopped short of entering there himself.

Although she never met them, Sandy knew my cats - both the living and the dead. She knew Royce and sent me words of comfort after his death - just about one year ago. So I put her piece of cake at the head of his grave. I then looked through the trees into the clear blue sky and spoke a few words to her.

There was nothing more to do after that, so I stepped out of the cemetery. I found Jim waiting for me on this stump, right at the cemetery edge.

Manoj, "Manu" - posted these pictures on a special web page set up by Sandy's cousins to commemorate her birthday. He took them at his celebration in London, where he is looking for work. Sandy's brother, Ganesh, also told of his cake in Pune - and of course there those in Bangalore had their own cake.

So on her birthday, Soundarya... Sandy... Sound... Soundu... Muse... was remembered on at least three continents. 

Not long after I pedaled my bike to Metro Cafe, Kristine from almost next door showed up with a bagful of puppies - born at 2:00 AM, 14 hours earlier. 

It was a nice touch to add to Sandy's birthday... and not the last one, either...

In the evening of Sandy's birthday, this young bull moose came to our house. I was sitting on the couch when I saw him trot through the backyard, so I grabbed a camera and followed him. He stopped in the low growth that lies just beyond the pet cemetery and there allowed me to take this portrait.

So, Soundarya - this moose is for you. This is your birthday moose. I hope you like him.

View images as slides

The birthday party that I missed

While the wind did not quit blowing, it eased off enough that the Alaska Airlines jet did make it into Barrow last night and so I boarded that jet and headed south, toward Anchorage.

During our Fairbanks layover, I turned on my iPhone and this picture came in as a text message from Lavina. It is from Jobe's first birthday party that took place on Saturday, February 12, as I was busy covering Kivgiq. Please take note of the places where the frosting is missing from the cake. The larger patch to the right was made by Jobe's butt when he sat on the cake and the small ones in front of that by his feet.

I am told that he did not like sitting in the cake. Both he and Kalib did enjoy eating it.

I hated to miss my grandson's first birthday party, but I so loved being at Kivgiq and I could not miss the final day. I will make it up to Jobe before the week is over.

The plane was packed leaving Barrow and did not get out until about 45 minutes late. Margie picked me up at the airport about midnight. Since breakfast, I had not eaten anything other than the two tiny pretzel and soy beans snack bags Alaska Airlines has used to replace the steaks, fish, chicken, rice, salads, fruits, cakes and all those things that they used to feed to their customers.

I was hungry, so we stopped at the McDonald's in Mountain View and we did not get home and settled down into bed until 3:30 AM. I had not slept much during Kivgiq and I had worked hard and been on the go constantly, so I wound up sleeping in today until nearly 1:00 PM.

It felt good, but I have a headache now.

Margie and I had planned to go back to Sakara Sushi this evening to celebrate our 37th anniversary, but we wound up eating a huge, afternoon breakfast at Family Restaurant and neither of us are up for a big meal tonight, so we will have to find some other way to celebrate.

I have so much work to do now - got to start putting my Kivgiq pictures into my home harddrives and then I face a huge amount of editing.

For now, though, I can't do anything.

I am wasted - no, not that way - just worn out and in need of a little downtime. 

Even on this birthday, Melanie remains trustworthy; cats are not wierd, they are normal

Those of us who were free gathered together to celebrate Melanie's birthday. I will not tell you what birthday it was, but I will note that when I was a young adult, we feared this birthday above all others. The belief among young people was that no matter how good a person was before they hit this birthday, once they reached it, the ways of the world would overtake them and they could not be trusted after that.

Hell.

Melanie can still be trusted.

Now I will move write along, writing very little, because I have already spent quite a bit of time editing, preparing and placing pictures and I do not have time to write much. So I won't. Because if I write words that I do not need to write, it will just eat up my time, so why should I write such words that waste time when I do not need to write them?

So I won't write much.

Just a little bit.

Not much at all.

Because it would waste time.

And I do not have time to waste.

So I will write very little today.

I will just show you the pictures.

And not worry about writing many words.

That would be a waste of time when all that you need to know is in the pictures.

Well, maybe are other things that should know, too - like how to do math, for example.

Math is a good skill for anyone to have.

Here is Lavina, making frybread.

Once must have some comprehension of math to make frybread.

Otherwise, one might make 100 frybreads, when one dozen would do.

Or use 6 teaspoons of salt when one would be just right.

Kalib entered carrying his spatula, but then laid it down. I picked it up. He did not quite know what to think about that.

Melanie prepares her Navajo/Apache taco.

The tacos were damn good.

The day before, Rex had submitted his entry for a grant to help him with a sculpture that he hopes to create and then display at Burning Man in Nevada this summer. Unfortunately, due to some computer shenanigans, much of his proposal did not get submitted. Only a piece of it.

Anyway, this is model of only a piece of what he hopes to create. In the real thing, this salmon skeleton will be five foot long and there will also be a whole salmon, concrete, five feet long and a number of other elements as well.

His sculpture will cover some significant space.

I hope he gets the damn grant. 

Melanie was presented with two birthday cakes, not one. I am not sure why. I did not ask. I know Charlie made one of the cakes. I'm not sure who made the other.

Lisa made the frosting.

We ate the cakes with vanilla ice cream and they were damn good.

Afterward, she opened gifts.

All of the gifts were damned good.

Charlie gave her a damned good book titled "Cats Are Wierd." Not withstanding the fact that it is a damned good book, I take exception to the title.

Cats are not weird. As you can see, Diamond is as normal as normal can be.

Bear Meach is not weird.

Melanie observes Bear Meach being normal as Rex and Margie wash dishes.

Kalib studies Poof. "This cat is not weird," he would have proclaimed, had the proper words come to him to thus proclaim.

Perhaps it is little boys, not cats, who are weird.

Jobe goes for Poof, who is not weird.

The Three Musketeers showed up: Carl, Charlie and Bryce. They did not bring their swords. I was disappointed. I wanted to borrow a sword to cut the cake.

As the party drew towards its wild conclusion, Kalib crawled up to see his mom.

Two of my children, paired off. Lisa came late to the party, because she is carrying such a heavy load between being a full time student and full time job, and taking on extra tasks to help pay for it all.

She must deal with stress.

And then, as always happens, the time came to say goodbye, see you later.

Always this time comes. 

What a fine thing it has been these past 30 years to have Melanie as my daughter.

An absolutely fine thing.

Oh, dear! I was not going to say, "30 years," but I did.

Even so, I trust her.

View images as slide show

Kalib's birthday, part 2: We party, there is fire in the house, dinosaurs roar, a dragon flies and a train goes round the track; goats take the right of way

Once again, I am running behind. Time to catch up and put Kalib's birthday behind us for another year. Anyway, readers will recall that on Christmas night, Jobe came down with a nasty bug and so the family stayed with us that night. The next morning, December 26, Kalib cooked breakfast for us. It was his third birthday.

His mother had planned to throw him a big sledding party in the afternoon at a park near their house in Anchorage, but, given the circumstances, had to cancel those plans.

Still, except for Caleb, who was not feeling well himself, and Bryce, who had just lost his grandfather, we all gathered at Kalib's house in Anchorage in the evening to throw him a little party.

Kalib was happy to see his new love, Ama and so came with his spatula to visit her and his Uncle Rex.

After a bit, I heard the sound of laughter and commotion out in the kitchen. It was Lisa, playing a YouTube video title, The Dream of the 90s is Alive in Portland. There is a line in it that could only have been written about Charlie - "in Portland, you can put a bird on something and call it art."

Readers from way back then will recall that Charlie and Melanie put birds in his beard Charlie, which won him a big award at the national beard championships in Portland and got his picture spread round the world in a multitude of both print and online publications.

Lisa and Melanie, and Charlie and I believe Bryce as well, have all fallen in love with Portland, the city where young people go to retire, and sleep until 11:00. They think it is a great city and they talk about moving there someday.

Jobe was still under the weather, but improving. When the party ended, I would go home alone so that Margie could stay for two or three days and care for Jobe until he gets well enough to return to day care.

Readers who have been with us for previous birthday parties may have noted that cakes have been brought out for people in the 20's, 30's and even the breach of 60's that have had very few candles on them - even as few as three.

Now one was brought out for a three year-old and it had a bunch of candles. 

Kalib did not object.

Kalib cut the cake himself - with just a wee bit of help from dad. He did not need anybody's help to clean the cake-cutting knife.

Lisa and Martigne. She also entertained us with You-Tube videos of Maru, a Japanese cat with an obsession for boxes - even tiny, tiny, boxes that it cannot fit into, but fits into them anyway.

Then, as Walking With Dinosaurs played on the TV, Kalib set about to open his presents. It was clear from the box that this one from his grandma contained a dragon, but, try as he might, Kalib could not open the box.

He tried so hard to open the box that he stubbed his toe and started to cry. He went to his Uncle Rex for comfort. In the meantime, Jacob went and found some tools and began to try to open the box.

At a certain point, Kalib shifted to his mom, and there received comfort. 

Whoever had designed and constructed the box really did not want anyone to ever open it and to free the dragon. It took Jacob several minutes, but finally the dragon was out.

It was Toothless, from the movie, How to Train Your Dragon, piloted by his Viking friend, Hiccup.

Kalib went flying with them.

How they flew! And what magnificent things they saw!

If you might be worried that such a fine gift would cause Kalib to forget about his spatula, put that worry away right now.

Lisa is certain that Toothless was patterned after her black cat, Zed. To prove this, she pulled up a picture that she had taken of Zed with her iPhone and put the two side by side. "See? Toothless looks just like Zed," she said.

Since I first saw Toothless in the movie, I have been convinced that he had been patterned after Jim - not only in looks, but in movement and mannerisms.

He also got a little train.

Kalib, Toothless, Hiccup and Margie.

And this one from India:

The open road is always a wonderful and dangerous place, but, much to my now ever-lasting pain, the Indian highway is an exceptionally dangerous highway. There may be traffic laws, but if they are acknowledged at all, it is only as suggestions meant to be ignored. Lanes mean nothing. Tail-gating is taken to the extreme. It is considered good driving to charge straight at the oncoming driver from an impossibly close distance and then to swerve at the last instant and escape death from headon collision by one inch.

But there is a law on the Indian highway that is absolute. Everyone obeys this law:

Goats have the right of way.

Goats always have the right of way and that right is respected and obeyed.

View images as slide show