I thought they were from Russia, but I was wrong; Muzzy pees on a mail box; Kalib gets into the news

I took my walk a little after noon. It was a warm and beautiful day, as you can tell by the fact that it was snowing. Snow only falls on warm days, never on cold. 

As I walked, I saw this couple walking the other way.

I have seen them before and I thought that maybe they were two of the many Russian immigrants that moved into this area after the "Ice curtain" that separated Alaska from the old Soviet Union melted.

But I wasn't certain.

So we stopped to visit. "Where did you originally come from?" I asked.

"A place very different than here," she answered.

"Russia?" I asked.

"No! No!" she answered. "Not Russia!"

She, Naziliya, or "Naza" originated in Azerbaijan; he, Leo, in Belarus - but they met in Moscow.

Eight years ago, a relative invited them to come visit in Wasilla.

"We never left," Naza said. "This is the best place - much better than Moscow."

Perhaps I would have learned more, but suddenly our conversation was disrupted when a bounding mass of fur plowed into the scene.

It was Muzzy! And he wanted all the attention. He got it. I then had to devote my full attention to getting him out of there before he loved anyone to death.

But Leo and Naza invited me to stop at their house anytime. So, sooner or later, I will do just that.

I don't mind walking with Muzzy when Jacob is along, because then Jacob does the hard stuff, but Muzzy can sometimes be too much for me to handle. Ninety-some percent of the time, he is a good dog. Although he does not want to, he will do what you tell him to do.

But sometimes... when he sees another dog... he goes nuts... he won't obey at all. He charges after that dog and there is no stopping him.

Once, before I fell off the chair and shattered my shoulder, I was walking him on a leash when a dog popped up. I shouted at him to stop, but I knew that he wasn't going to, so I gripped the handle of the leash as hard as I could and dug in my heels.

Muzzy hit the end of that leash full force and literally yanked me off my feet. I went sailing through the air and came down on my chest and tummy, still gripping the leash.

Now that I have a titanium shoulder, I can't do that again.

So I try never to take him on a walk by myself.

But Jacob is in Washington, DC. Caleb is sick. 

If I didn't walk him, no one was going to.

And he needed to walk.

He needed to pee on things.

So I took him - but I did not put him on the leash. He could yank my artificial shoulder right off - I am certain of it.

So I broke the leash law and took him unleashed - although I did carry the leash with me.

But, as anyone who reads this blog regularly knows, dogs run loose around here all the time.

Still, I felt terribly irresponsible.  On the good side, Muzzy once got smacked by a car in Anchorage and that taught him an indelible lesson about cars and traffic.

And, although you might not know from looking at these pictures, when traffic appeared, I always took note of Muzzy's position in relation to it, so that I could take action, if need be. Fortunately, he was always a safe distance away - usually out in the trees.

But I hope Caleb feels better tomorrow so he can take Muzzy walking  - and I will be very glad when Jacob gets home.

Along the way, we stopped to visit this gentleman, a friendly fellow who I sometimes come across. He was feeling very bad about his son. His son is in prison now but expects to soon be out on parole. The son and his lady - or maybe his mother, I got a little confused on this part - are trying to arrange it so that he can do his parole time in Georgia, where the lady, who may or may not be his mother, lives.

The rationale is that if the son goes to Georgia, he can get away from whatever influence it is up here that keeps getting him into trouble with the law.

The dad was not convinced. He figured he could find just as much to get into trouble over down there as up here.

"And they do harder time in Georgia," he said.

But he also mused about the possibility that maybe his son would not get out on parole, that, maybe, just before he was to be released, he would go wallop a guard or something. Then he would have to stay in prison.

"That would give him three squares, a roof, and a job," his dad explained.

Then Muzzy began to sniff in this spot.

"He smells the moose that just went through here," he said. "A cow and two calves."

Soon I saw this four-wheeler coming.

They waved, then stopped and backed up.

"You should have got a picture of us yesterday," the driver said. "We were pulling a couch with three people on it."

I am really sorry that I missed that picture, but, damnit, I just didn't know.

After the walk, I came back to my computer and stayed put until 4:00 PM, when I went out for the usual coffee break, accompanied by NPR's All Things Considered.

When I pulled up to the drive-through window, I saw these folks placing an order from inside the Metro-Cafe. The window was still closed. That's why you see those smudges on the left.

After Carmen opened the window, I conversed with them just a little bit. The man's name is Scott and one of the girls is named Maggie. I am not sure which one. And there were two more that didn't make it into the picture. Maggie could even have been one of them.

Scott named all five, but I only remember one.

When I was younger, I would have remembered all five - plus a dozen or two more, as well.

Now, I only remember Maggie.

I spent the day alone again, with the cats and Muzzy. Margie did go into town to help out, even though she did not feel that great. 

Anway, the new rug has been placed and all the painting has been done upstairs. So Lavina and Kalib came back here and they will spend every night here until Friday, to let their place air out.

Being a curious fellow who wants to know all about the world, Kalib got into his PJ's and then went straight for the newspaper - and promptly began to rip it to pieces.

Then Megan Baldino came on to anchor the evening news. He ignored her...

...and went to his mom, who gave him something good to eat.

No Kalib today - boring entry - I wouldn't even bother to drop by - but please do: I need the hits

I spent the day alone with the cats and Muzzy. Margie went into town early to help out however she could with the painting and such going on at Jacob, Lavina and Kalib's new house. Caleb was going to go in, too, but he was struck down by something that caused horrible pains in his stomach and so spent the day in bed.

So I went to Family Restaurant just before noon to buy some breakfast.

On the way home, I saw this man riding a bicycle through the sub-zero air. I haven't ridden my bike in so long. Not because its cold, but because I know if I do, sooner or later it is going to slide out from underneath me on the ice and I am going to go down.

This was not a terribly big deal in the past, but now that I have a titanium shoulder, it is. Even if I come down on ice, I don't want to fall.

Not far from the biker, I saw this man walking. All this excitement happened on Spruce Street.

And here I am, driving down Church.

Now I am on Shrock.

I then spent several hours at my computer, but at 4:00 PM, when NPR's All Things Considered Weekend Edition came on the radio, I took a coffee break. Metro Cafe is closed on Sundays, so I went to Mocha Moose.

It was then back to my computer for a couple of hours, but soon it was time for dinner. I looked for something good and simple to cook, but could find nothing.

I wanted something nutritious, so I headed to KFC, where I bought chicken, mashed potatoes and corn on the cob.

I did see the train go by. That was exciting. It's always exciting when the train goes by.

Margie came home pretty late, but then was struck with such bad tummy pains that they made her cry. She looked awful. Now she is in bed. She says she is going back into town with Lavina early in the morning to help out some more, but I don't know.

So a couple of days ago, Kalib was vomiting. He still looks weak. Then earlier today, Caleb was smitten by horrid stomach pains. Now Margie has been. Both say they are quite unlike any regular kind of upset tummy pains that they have ever experienced before.

And Jimmy, my good black cat, has been passing foul gas.

Oh, dear.

None of this portends anything good.

Kalib golfs, vacuums, gets under the weather, goes to the doctor, reunites with Royce; Various and insundry Wasilla scenes

Ever since Kalib moved out, the house had been a quiet and empty place. After he returned, he resumed his golf game. This made life in the house much better.

And then he vacuumed the floor. It really needed it and we were grateful.

Kalib and his vacuum cleaner.

It was a foggy day. I took only a very short walk - not because of the fog, but because I left at 11:45 AM and I had a phone interview scheduled at noon.

I hated to take such a short walk. I guess I should have left earlier.

After I hung up the phone, I wanted out. Caleb was awake to watch Kalib, so I took Margie to lunch. Along the way, we passed by this guy walking the shore of Wasilla Lake.

Regularly readers will instantly recognize this as the intersection that provides an excellent view of Pioneer Peak above the maddening traffic of Wasilla's main thoroughfare. But you couldn't see the mountains today.

We ate our lunch in the car, as these ravens flirted with each other nearby.

As we ate, this was the view through the windshield. The tower rises out of the Wasilla Police Station. I was a little worried that someone might come running out of there, think we were someone else and try to arrest us, but no one did. 

The radio was on and a restaurant reviewer was talking from Cleveland. He had moved there from the East Coast, where he said he had been a food snob and had not expected to find any good food in the Midwest.

Boy, was he wrong, he said. The dining in Cleveland was the height of gourmet sophistication. Not even New York City could beat it.

I thought maybe I should start doing reviews on all the sophisticated, gourmet, dining to be had right here in Wasilla, Alaska. I could start here, in the parking lot alongside Taco Bell.

So... Taco Bell has a new item on the meno called a cheese roll, or something like that. It is a flour tortilla rolled around a glob of melted cheese. I bought one, tore it in half, gave half to Margie and ate the other myself.

"What do you think?" I asked Margie.

"It's okay," she said.

"I find it quite excellent myself," I told her. "Nice, sophisticated, piquant, gourmet taste."

She said nothing more at all.

I also had two original crunchy tacos. Indeed, they crunched very well and, after I squeezed a packet of mild and another of hot sauce into each one, had just the right touch of spice to add a decent kick to the meal.

I also had a bean burrito with green sauce.

These are superb when done right, but this one was too damn salty.

The Pepsi was just right - not too sweet but pleasantly carbonated, so that I could be assured of a little burp later, the flavor of which would remind me just how excellent the meal was - except for the bean burrito, which could have been better.

Back at the house, Margie sits with Kalib, who was once again feeling under the weather. While we had been out, Caleb had observed something that frightened him terribly, as Kalib seemed to be disoriented and frightened. Kalib had reached for Caleb where Caleb wasn't even standing. Margie called Lavina at work in Anchorage and she made a doctor appointment for Kalib here in Wasilla at 4:30, but we were advised to bring him in a bit early.

We left the house at 4:00, but stopped to go through the drive-through at Metro Cafe to get Americanos. No, I don't buy Latte's and Mochas everyday.

We continued on toward the doctor's office. As you can see, Pioneer Peak was now visible in the twilight sky.

Lavina had driven up from Anchorage and was already there to meet us.

The rest went inside, but, as I had much to do, I headed back here to my office, slightly worried but pretty confident that Kalib was okay. Lavina would bring them all home.

This is what the Talkeetna Mountains looked like as I drove home.

I passed by a fence decorated with large, candy canes wrapped in green and red lights.

Kalib was fine - but better to be safe. Here he is, reunited with his buddy, Royce.

Kalib moves out, final: He shares his dad's birthday dinner, helps? decorate the Christmas tree; Today in Wasilla: Familiar face regurgitates, then pops through the door

I take one last journey back to last Friday night, when Kalib moved out. Here, he looks through the window of his new house as his Uncle Kalib pulls into the driveway. Just moments before, his dad pulled in with something special in his vehicle.

It's a Christmas tree! Kalib gives instructions and directions on where and how to place it.

Before the tree can be decorated, we all go out to celebrate Jacob's birthday. Jacob chose the nearby Taco King.

We all ordered Mexican food.

Kalib ate a wedge of lime.

Then we returned to his new house to eat cake. There were no candles at all, this time, so Lavina tore off a piece of a paper bag, rolled it up and lit it on fire. The lights were turned out. The paper only smoldered, and try as I might, I could not take a picture off the glow of the smolder. 

In desperation, I dialed my shutter speed down to something like maybe a full second or two and tripped the shutter. Even as the image was exposing someone turned on the light.

Kalib lifted up the first piece and dumped it upside down atop the cake. Oh, it was a good cake, though. Margie made it. Lisa bought the ice cream.

Next it was time to decorate the tree. Kalib began the task with confidence.

Can you see how sleepy he is? Remember, he had hardly had a nap at all. He was very tired. Everything in his world was changing.

He started to cry and ran across the floor. Lisa tried to amuse him with a balloon. He ignored it and zipped right past her.

Then he flung himself face down upon the rug that his parents will soon replace. Caleb tried to amuse him by bouncing the minature Spiderman basketball.

Kalib would not be amused.

And right after this, his gramma and I had to say goodbye and leave.

Early the next morning, his actual birthday, btw, his Dad had to leave to go to Washington, DC, for some training. 

Today in Wasilla:

What!!!??? Who is this, sitting on our couch with Caleb, eating strawberry Jello??? Why, it's Kalib! But he moved out? How could this be?

Last night, he started to vomit. Fearing that it was fumes from the new paint that has gone up on the walls since he moved in, Lavina brought him home. He is going to stay here for a few days now.

We have since learned that three of his day care peers had to go home today, because they were vomiting, too. So maybe it wasn't the fumes.

Whatever, he is here again.

And here I am, driving down Lucille Street, on my afternoon coffee break.

As you can see, weather-wise, today was exceptionally nice. It sounds like we were about the only place in the country with good weather today - except for Hawaii, where surfers were cutting up giant waves, 30 feet tall - a gift to them from Alaska.

I want to ride a 30 foot wave.

Do you think I could?

Or would such a wave tear my artificial shoulder right out of its socket?

I wanted to go to Hawaii this winter to find out. But I can see that its not going to happen. No money for such a trip.

Life is hell, I tell you.

Maybe next winter.

Maybe I will be richer then. And stronger. Grayer as well. Richer, stronger and grayer.

If so, then I will go to Hawaii and ride a wave.

Maybe not a 30 foot wave.

They don't get such waves every year, you know.

Nobody can know exactly when they will come.

And then when they're done coming, they're done.

There's nothing anyone can do about it.

You can't schedule that kind of surf.

It happens when it happens and only when it happens.

Half moon rises over Wasilla; black cat waits in the house; Kalib moves out, part 5: after a bit of exploration, he joins his family in the dining room

The half-moon was out this morning. I made a big mistake, though. I had just taken a picture inside, with the ISO on my pocket camera cranked up a bit and the shutter speed down to 1/40 of a second. When I saw the plane coming, I quickly twisted the ISO down to 80, but forgot to change the shutter speed. The plane was coming fast, so I had to lift the camera fast and shoot.

As a result, I got a bit of camera shake. And probably, I will never see an airplane fly under a half moon in quite this manner ever again.

Oh well. The picture is what it is.

This was the scene that I had photographed at 1/40 of a second, taking my time, trying to hold the camera steady. The other day, as Margie and I went through the drive-through at Metro Cafe to order our hot drinks, Carmen pointed to a sign that told us she was now serving breakfast sandwiches.

I promised her that, sooner or later, I would come in and try one out. So today, Margie had to go to Anchorage to see the dentist and get some teeth drilled and filled. This meant that I would be without a car, so I had her drop me off at Metro Cafe so I could try the sandwich.

She had sausage and eggs and ham and eggs, both with cheese. I ordered the ham. It is not the same as having ham and eggs-over easy, hash browns and mult-grain toast or pancakes at Family Restaurant, but for a coffee shop stop, particularly if you are driving to work, it's pretty good.

And the coffee is delicious - way better than Family Restaurant coffee.

When she found out I was going to walk home, Carmen was worried that I would get cold. She offered to give me a ride. But it is only about two miles, the temperature was a very pleasant two degrees above zero (-17 C), so I set out walking.

Pretty soon, I saw a man and a black dog ahead of me. They were moving slow. I quickly caught them, shot three frames, then walked along with them for about 100 yards, until they turned off on Mulchatna, were they live.

"What's your name and the dog's name?" I asked.

"I'm Brian, he's Bubba," he spoke in an accent that reminded me a bit of the Kennedy's - JFK, Bobby, and Ted.

"Looks like kind of an old dog," I observed.

"Yes," Brian answered, "he's getting old." 

"You sound like you're from the Northeast?"

"Massachusetts. I'm from Massachusetts."

"How long have you been in Wasilla?"

"Eight years," he answered. "I came here eight years ago to visit my daughter for two weeks and I never left."

"You must like it alright, then," I mused.

"I like it allright," he said. "I don't even mind the cold that much. There's nothing I can do about it, so what the f..."

I have spent enough time in the Arctic and the Interior that it always strikes me as a bit odd when people speak of Wasilla as if it were a really cold place - although for sure, from time to time, it can get pretty damn frigid, but today was not such a day.

We exchanged a few more pleasantries, then came to Mulchatna, where he and the dog turned right and walked away.

I continued on. Often, the half-moon was hidden from my view, but sooner or later it always reappeared.

Half moon.

And then, all too quickly, I was walking down my own driveway, toward my own house and there was my own, good, black cat-buddy Jim, looking at me through the window.

Once he realized that I was taking his picture, he tried to act indifferent, but I knew better. He was very pleased.

Now... I hope I am not drawing this out too long, but right now, these pictures are the only contact that I am having with my little grandson. So here I am, back to last Friday evening, continuing the "Kalib Moves Out" series. And here is Kalib, exploring his new house with his mom.

He observes as she hangs the curtains.

As mom cleans the refrigerator - which she plans to replace with a bigger one as soon as she can, Kalib tries to get her attention.

This is the dining room. They plan to replace the carpet, perhaps with the flooring that they all stand on here. They wanted to try it out. They liked it.

I will have two more entries in this series and then it will be done.

Then I must find an excuse to go into town and spend some time with my grandson.

Or he could come out here.

Royce, the elderly orange cat, misses him terribly.