Cocoon mode* - day 4: The firewood twins, bike at the Little Su, an old van at Metro Cafe

This was actually yesterday, when I came home from my coffee break and found these two identical guys throwing split birch into our yard. It was a big surprise to me because I had not yet ordered any and I was wondering how, at $200 a cord, I was going to pay for it.

Turned out Jacob, Lavina, Caleb, and Melanie bought four cords for us. It usually takes about five - six cords to get us through the winter, but since this is going to be an El Niño winter, and the north is growing warmer, anyway, maybe four will do it.

We used to gather all of our own wood and saw it up and split it. It was great fun, but those days are gone. I had told myself that this year I would get all of our wood in June, but I didn't.

Before I got to work today, I took my bike out for a ride. I went down to the Little Su the long way, about five or six miles. I wanted to try to pedal across the Little Su through a shallow stretch, but I have never succeeded in the past and I did not want to soak my shoes, so this is as far as I went.

Margie, Lavina and Kalib all accompanied me on my coffee break. We went through the drive through at the new Metro Cafe. That is Carmen, the owner, waving. Remember the cute car and van?

Just today, this old van showed up, too. They bought it somewhere down in the Lower 48. They plan to fix it up nice, like the others. They plan to park a fleet of such vehicles.

*Cocoon mode: Until I finish up a big project that I am working on, I am keeping this blog at bare-minimum simple. I anticipate about one month.

Margie's birthday party morphs into Jacob's congrats ceremony; a football flies through the house

Continuing on from the last post, the final car that had parked in our driveway had brought Natalie and her children from Anchorage. When Melanie, Charlie, Lisa and I returned from coffee, they were just finishing up their frybread and beans, so I guess Lavina had cooked more bread, yet.

We all signed a card of congratulations for Jacob, since he is now commissioned in the Commission Corps.

And what the hell - one day soon he and Lavina are going to move out and take Kalib with them. As I have stated before, that's why they moved in with us in the first place, so that they could save up some money for a house while they waited for the Commission Corps to accept Jacob and assign him somewhere.

Lavina was sure hoping it would be in Arizona, near her Navajo homeland.

Margie was kind of hoping that it would be, too, because then she thought maybe Kalib could induce me to move to Arizona and be closer to her Apache homeland.

But Jacob got Anchorage.

I don't ever want to move from Alaska. Not ever, ever, ever!

I would die inside.

That sounds selfish, doesn't it, when Margie wants to be closer to her homeland?

But even she doesn't want to be there in the summertime. Too hot. She would rather be here.

Only in winter does she want to be there. She is fed up with Alaska winters.

So maybe someday we can figure out how to broker a compromise.

I love Alaska winters, except for the warm ones. They say this is going to be an El Niño winter. They are the warm ones. I do not like El Niño winters

A lot of football happened today. First, 20th ranked BYU Courgars beat the third-ranked Oklahoma Sooners, 14-13, in a game that came right down to the wire.

I was glad, because I was cheering for BYU. I may be an agnostic coffee drinker who wrestles with the weight of my Mormon upbringing every damn day of my life, but it is still a fact that my direct ancestors include a man who hung out with Joseph Smith when he was held in jail and set out with Brigham Young to cross the Great Plains and BYU is still my alma mater.

Jacob's alma mater played today, too, the Arizona State Sun Devils, who crushed Idaho State 50-3. Natalie's stepson, Cooper, not only watches but gets filled with inspiration. 

Cooper dashes into the front room, ready to play football. As you can see, Kalib is wearing his Sun Devils jersey.

Jacob throws Cooper a pass. Jacob, by the way, made varsity starting quarterback when he was just a sophomore, but then he injured his knee and that was that.

Cooper fumbles the ball!

He's just starting out. The important thing is not that he dropped it, but rather that he stood right there, again and again, as the ball bounced off his chest or head, and was always eager, excited and ready for the next pass.

Royce wanders through in search of toe pets. He gets some.

Natalie and her daughter Tiana adjust each other's hair as Tony, Tiana's twin, sits on the other side.

I'm not at all certain how it happened so fast, but very soon everyone said their goodbyes. Kalib gets a goodbye hug from his Auntie Lisa.

Then Kalib watches as his Auntie Melanie climbs into the 1962 Oldsmobile Starfire with Charlie to begin the drive back to Anchorage. Note all the leaves that have already fallen from the trees. Note, too, how dark it is even though it is only 9:15 PM.

It was a beautiful, beautiful, warm, sunny day, but summer is over. Fall has begun. There won't be many more days like this. One maybe, two perhaps. Wouldn't it be something if we got three? Dare I bid for four? 

Oh, we'll get sun, radiating down brightly upon golden leaves.

But the air will feel crisp.

Wonderful in its own right.

And then Kalib watches as Lisa drives away.

It always comes to this. I don't care what it is. It always comes to this. Every time my kids come out, they soon leave. Kalib will soon leave and move elsewhere. Very soon, I will leave Margie to go back north and I will hate to say good-bye. I will miss her every day that I am gone. And when I again leave the north to come back here, I will be sad to leave the Iñupiat community behind. When I again return here, I will miss them and their harsh, hard, sprawling, deadly, life-giving country every day, just as I missed them today, just as I also missed Sandy and all my Indian family and their hot, steamy, crowded, teeming, naturally abundant, country today - even as I reveled in the celebration of being here in what, weather and companion wise, was probably the most pleasant place on earth.

And then one day, very soon, even if I beat the odds and live to be 100, it will all be over. I will be dust, drifting in the wind. I will become the flesh of other creatures, the fiber of plants and all those whom I love will exist no more, as so many already don't, except in the hearts that loved them, but even those hearts will die.

Some that it's better after you die, that you go to a better place.

But I like this earth, this hard, beautiful place that we dwell upon, as fragile yet rugged people, destructible mortals, more precious than any indestructible immortal could ever be, fearing and fighting death yet in the end always accepting.

Nothing will ever be better. Not heaven.

And nothing will ever be worse.

Not hell.

It's all right here, the best and the worst that has ever been or ever will be.

So brief.

So precious.

It is as though it always was and then as if it had never been.

It's late. I should go to bed.

I wax ridiculous.

One day, I will state it better.

We celebrate Margie's birthday and then wind up in the ditch

The knock on the wall caused me to leave my computer and go into the house for the party, but I was surprised to find that not everybody was present. The food was ready, but people were still here and there. 

Charlie and Melanie, for example, were out in the back yard. I was a little distressed to see Charlie sitting in that chair, because last week, I saw Muzzy lift his leg and pee on it.

It rained after that, so hopefully it was okay.

Kalib peeks out to check on Charlie, Melanie and me.

I go back in and close the screen door. Kalib wants back in.

It was an Apache-Navajo kind of meal, with frybread and beans. I made mine into a classic Navajo/Apache taco, with the beans, onions, salsa, quacamole, tomotoes, peppers, grated cheddar cheese and sour cream folded into the fry bread.

I meant to photograph it so that you could see, but I got so busy eating it that I forgot.

Lavina helps Kalib draw a little heart on his grandmother's birthday card. This is what I wrote: "September 5, 1949, was the best day of my life even though I was not yet conceived..." followed by some stuff about love.

There was one piece of frybread left, so I had Margie pose with it, just so you can see what it looks. After that, I ate half of it and Charlie ate the other half.

 I stepped out for a little bit and when I stepped back in, I was surprised to see Steffers sitting there, eating an Apache/Navajo taco. Lavina must have cooked some more frybread up, so I shot this picture. Steffers, who is Iñupiat, was on her way to a Rodney Atkins concert at the Fair, but she is competing with her sister for Kalib's love, so she stopped by to see him first - and to wish Margie a happy birthday as well as congratulate Jacob for being commissioned into the Commission Corp.

Margie prepares to blow out her candle. Not only is she actually older than one, there isn't even a "1" in her age. But there was only one candle in the house and it was "1."

Margie reads her card. She was pleased.

Margie opens a present from her kids, all of whom were here except for Rex and Stephanie. Rex works seven days a week, usually, and long hours, too. We sorely missed the two of them, but Margie was pleased with the gift.

Jacob hands her the first serving of cake and ice cream.

After we ate our cake and ice cream, some of us wanted coffee. It was evening, now, just after 7:00, but Charlie, Melanie, Lisa and I went out and bought some at Little Miller's on the Park's anyway. When we returned home, more guests had arrived and there was no empty space into the driveway. So I began to pull into the ditch.

"Dad!" Melanie scolded. "What are you doing? Don't drive into the ditch! Dad! Dad! Don't do it, Dad!"

But I did. We all got out. Everything was fine.

"That's so Wasilla!" Melanie said.

Kalib frolics through a Family Restaurant breakfast

Saturday was another such morning. I could not bear to cook so off we went to Family Restaurant - Kalib, Caleb, Jacob and I. Lavina had to work and Margie did not want to struggle with her crutches.

After we arrived, Kalib strolled in with great confidence. I felt so proud of him.

He studied the sugar packets, then picked up the salt shaker.

The table needed salt, so he salted it. Then he picked up a little creamer. I looked down at my menu.

Suddenly, I felt the creamer that Kalib had just picked up bounce off my forehead. In a state of shock, I looked up just in time to see him pick up the sugar packet that he grips. It was about to bounce off my forehead, too.

My pride only increased. What an arm! What control! What accuracy! 

Soon, it will be a baseball that bounces off my head.

I hope I survive.

Next, Kalib studies literature.

The food is slow in coming. Kalib grows fussy.

Dad calms Kalib down. Outside, happy diners, their bellies already stuffed with eggs, laugh their way past.

Kalib ordered a milkshake. He indulges.

Kalib offers Dad a taste of milkshake. Dad indulges.

Dad feeds eggs to Kalib.

Kalib studies some human interaction that takes place outside.

Kalib and his dad finish before I do. They go outside to play.

Kalib sees Caleb and runs to the window, places his hand upon it and leaves a palm, finger and thumb print. Caleb places his hand over it.

Then it is time to go. A bus boy cleans up our table.

It was a hairy fellow who first cultivated coffee: Images from breakfast, my bike ride (that's so Wasilla!) and my afternoon break

It was another one of those mornings when I woke up and simply could not bear the thought of cooking oatmeal, one of those days that I felt like I just had to start out of the house, somewhere else. I knew Margie would not want to come and hobble in on her crutches, but I asked her anyway, just in case, but she didn't.

She wanted to sit on the couch and eat Cheerio's.

So, I made certain that she had her Cheerio's and then I headed off to Family Restaurant to have a Denve - 0h Man! I just heard my email "ping," so I went to check and it was a "breaking news" notice from the Anchorage Daily News. Senator Ted Kennedy is dead! Damnit! We need him, now. We really do.

Anyway, there was a table in the corner and I took it, so nobody could shoot me in the back. And this little boy turned around and looked at me. 

He made me think of Kalib, who had long since left for daycare.

As I ate, this man walked past my red Ford Escape, carrying a cup of what I believe to be coffee, although it might have been hot chocolate, for all I know, or tea. It might have even been gasoline, because maybe he had an old 1950 Ford that wouldn't start and he needed to prime the engine. But I am pretty certain it was coffee. I suspect it was black. Unless he was taking it to his wife. Then, perhaps, it had cream in it, and Splenda.

There I am, stereotyping. Maybe he likes cream and sugar and his wife likes it black.

What an assumption on my part.

Perhaps he does not have a wife. Perhaps he lives alone with three cats.

And then again, he might not even like cats. He might live with a dog, a poodle.

Or five hamsters, three goldfish and a pet rattlesnake.

Perhaps he lives with a chimpanzee, and he is taking the coffee to the chimp.

Chimps are known to be big coffee drinkers.

In fact, coffee was first cultivated by chimps.

Not everybody knows this, but it is a true fact.

Two other men pass by my Escape on their way into Family. I believe that they were coming in to buy a bowl of oatmeal for their elephant.

Personally, I don't think one bowl would be enough.

And elephants like bananas, too.

So I hope they bought a lot of bananas.

All right, now I am no longer at Family, but am riding my bike. Don't ask me to explain the above. How would I know?

It's just the normal, everyday kind of thing that one sees here in Wasilla, Alaska.

As Melanie would say, "that's so Wasilla!"

"You have a pretty dog!" I shout at the lady as I pedal past.

"Thank you!" she responds.

"What's the dog's name?" I shout louder, as they fall further behind me.

"Sarah," she screams, just before I go out of hearing range.

So there you have it - Sarah the Dog.

It never ends. It just never ends. Everyday, more of Wasilla falls away.

I spot a calico cat. The calico cat spots me. 

When I get back home, I find Kalib working on his bike. He has been riding 20 to 30 miles every day. He has lost weight. I want to lose weight, too. Well, today's ride should surely help.

Now I am in my car, late in the afternoon, on my coffee break. This is where I bought it - a brand new place called Metro Cafe, where they park cute cars outside. There used to be a dog wash here, but the owners sold out and the new ones tore it down and built this place.

They don't serve breakfast, though. If they did, I wouldn't have gone to Family this morning. I would have walked right in, sat down and ordered eggs, because its always fun to try breakfast at a new place.

They do have a drive through window, so this afternoon I tried it out. The coffee was excellent. Unfortunately for me, I bought an apple fritter to go with it. It was big and sweet and when I discovered this, I told myself I would only eat a small fraction of it but once I started I couldn't stop and so I ate the whole thing and there went all the good that I had done for myself on the bicycle ride.

I finish this day fatter than I began it.