In the Grotto Iona - a moment of peace

It is true that I am not Catholic nor any longer a follower of any religion, but during yesterday's coffee break I stopped at the Grotto Iona, built by the Mahoney's both as a place to bury their dead and as a place of prayer, open to all who seek solace. I did not pray, but I did find a feeling of peace there. I will take peace wherever I fan find it, and for however long I can hold it.

Here, you will find a larger slide of the image.

The big crash strikes; Eight studies of the young writer, Shoshana; fish greet us at Sakura Sushi

Two posts ago, I mentioned how I have reached a state in which my body just seems to have forgotten how to sleep - I go night after night with very little sleep until suddenly I just crash and sleep.

Such a crash happened that very night. I don't know what time I went to bed - somewhere between midnight and 1:00 AM, I believe. I felt so tired that my eyelids seemed to be falling to the floor and I could not think to compose even the simplest email or to return a Facebook message or comment.

So I went to bed and just zoned out. Cats came in and piled on top of me, adding a pleasant warmth to the blankets that covered me. I did wake up a few times, but only briefly and then went right back to sleep.

I did not wake up for good until afternoon.

AFTER NOON!!!

Just by a few minutes, but still afternoon.

And I woke up feeling somewhat pleasant, which felt very odd and not quite right. No. It did not feel right at all and it didn't last but that's how it was for several minutes.

I had a great deal of work ahead of me but I didn't do any of it - except to put up yesterday's blog post on Clark James Mishler, which went up much later than I had intended - not until 4:04 PM.

Immediately afterward, I jumped into the car and headed to Metro Cafe to buy my NPR - All Things Considered listening and driving coffee.

Shoshana greeted me at the window and I told her that I had not taken a single picture all day long and that I had better shoot some frames of her right now because darkness was setting down heavy and if I didn't, I might somehow not take a picture this entire day and that would not be good.

She was game for it, so I shot this series of Eight Studies of the Young Writer, Shoshana.

The above image, in case any reader has not already surmised, is Study # 1.

Eight Studies of the Young Writer, Shoshana: Study # 2

Eight Studies of the Young Writer, Shoshana: Study # 3

Eight Studies of the Young Writer, Shoshana: Study # 4

Eight Studies of the Young Writer, Shoshana: Study # 5

Eight Studies of the Young Writer, Shoshana: Study # 6

Eight Studies of the Young Writer, Shoshana: Study # 7

Eight Studies of the Young Writer, Shoshana: Study # 8

It is my hope that one day, far in the future, a researcher of some sort will be delving into all that took place in and concerning Wasilla, Alaska at this time in history and will conclude that while on the national scene Wasilla was a noisy place, what proved to be the most important event to concern this town was that a young writer named Shoshana quietly performed her job at Metro Cafe.

Perhaps The New Yorker will still be around, or there will some other publication of some sort or another that fills the same niche.

That publication will run these pictures and they will state, "Eight images of the noted author, Shoshana of Wasilla, Alaska, photographed by the erstwhile blogger, Bill Hess, when she was young and working at Metro Cafe."

Just before 2010 ended, I received an exceptionally generous donation from a reader who specified that I was to use to to take Margie out to a fine dinner. I figured this was the night to do it.

There is a new restaurant in Wasilla called Sakura Sushi. It took over the spot previously occupied by Wasilla's only Indian restaurant. I was a little dismayed by that, because I like to get Indian food now and then so that I can sit there, breathe in the familiar aromas, eat and remember India.

But I love Sushi, too, and so we decided to give it a try. We entered the door and were greeted by fish. 

Beyond the fish, people were gathering.

It was a very long wait, but so what? The company was good. I have never been able to convince Margie that raw fish is good, so when we go to a sushi place, she orders something else - on this night, teriyaki chicken and tempura shrimp and vegetables.

My sushi was served first, but I resisted and waited until she got her meal before I ate mine.

My first bite was of the roll on the upper right hand corner of the dish - dipped in wasabi and soy sauce.

Oooooooohhhh my! 

Heaven! Heaven! Heaven!

Heaven...

And every bite that followed was like heaven and this proved true for Margie, too.

It was well worth the wait.

To have a sushi restaurant of such quality, right here in Wasilla, Alaska...

If I were rich, I would eat here 30 times a week.

Or maybe twice.

Perhaps just once, so as not to render the experience commonplace.

But I would want to eat here 30 times a week.

Here is the master chef, O.B. I learned nothing of his history, but he did speak with a strong Japanese accent. I hope he loves Wasilla, because I do not want him to leave.

And here is our host and waitress, as I pay the bill. I did not catch their names.

On the way out, we passed by the fish, who seemed unaware, contented enough.

Thank you, Michael P, for a wonderful dinner out with my wife.

Also let that future researcher also note that on this day, a master chef sliced up some excellent sushi in Wasilla, Alaska, and someone broke down on the side of an icy road, where someone else stopped to help.

As to sleep, now that the crash has come and gone, I am right back to the same place. I went to bed at 4:00 this morning and could not sleep a wink past 7:00 - and I didn't sleep all that great in between.

I did stay home, where I cooked oatmeal and ate it with berries and walnuts.

And this one from India:

A vendor in Ooty as photographed through the open window of our taxicab as our driver drove the newly-weds Soundarya and Anil, Vasanthi, Buddy, Melanie and me through the bustling street, where goats, horses and ox mingled with people driving motor bikes, cars, trucks and auto-rics.

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A cat full of coffee and other New Year's tails

The New Year began with me sleepy and exhausted and I am sleepy and exhausted right now - too much so to write much with these pictures. So I will simply say that, with breakfast and such behind us, Margie and I are in the car, driving past Wasilla Lake, enroute to Anchorage to celebrate the New Year at Jacob and Lavina's house.

The wind is howling and it is one of those horrible warm winds from the South Pacific that sometimes materialize this time of year and then ruin a good Alaska winter.

There is nothing to be done about it, though, so we just drive to Anchorage.

The New Year got off to a poor start for someone. On occassion, these guys in their patrol cars with their sirens, beepers and flashing lights unnerve me a bit, but I am damn glad they are there.

While I do not believe the US should enforce or coerce its ways upon any other nation, I just cannot help but to think that if in India they set up and enforced traffic laws, honestly, with no bribery, to the degree that they do here, I might have slept a lot better these past six weeks and three people who should still be breathing and walking on this earth would be doing so.

Yes, only two of them went by crash, but the third would not have followed had there been no accident in the first place.

So, yes, I appreciate these uniformed men and women who we call cops, these who we ask to risk their lives to keep us safe even as they sometimes suffer our abuse. Yes, there are some bad ones to be found here and there among them - the same is true of preachers, teachers, astronauts, photographers, and baseball players -but on the whole they do a pretty good job and get cussed at all too often.

Even if they pull me over later today and write me a ticket, I will appreciate them. I will swear and cuss when they walk back to their car, but still I will appreciate them.

When we arrived at Jacob and Lavina's house, we found a bag filled with something in the living room. It was kind of curious, because the bag was upside down.

I wondered, what could this bag be filled with?

Why, it was filled with Kalib!

Remember those dinosaurs Kalib had been surrounded by in yesterday's post? As part of his late birthday present, his parents let him pick one out.

This is the one he choose. They say that it was the most realistic out of the bunch. Some were bigger, they say, but Kalib went for realism over size.

I am jealous. I loved dinosaurs when I was little, too, but I never got to have one like this. I think the biggest dinosaur that I hever had stood maybe three inches tall and was made of hard plastic - and I only had that one because I found it lying in the road.

Jobe had been napping when we arrived, but soon he floated out to join us.

Jobe and his mom.

Did you know that my daughter, Lisa, carried a full semester worth of credits this past fall even as she worked full time, and also made the honor roll?

She did. 

I wonder who she is calling? Could it be me? Is it possible I placed my phone somewhere and could not find it?

I was lying on the floor, in front of the TV, feeling so exhausted that I could hardly move. Yet, I wanted to get a group New Year's day picture of everybody that was there. The light here is very dim, so I wanted to get them in front of the TV, both so that there would be a little more light on them and so I would not have to move from my position on the floor.

I called everybody over to pose.

I could see that it was going to be a challenge to get them to do so.

Still, I was determined to get the photo, and to do so from down on floor.

It took some doing, but finally I got it. You will notice that Caleb, Rex, Ama and Bryce are not here. Sometimes, you can get everybody together and sometimes you can't. So you take a group picture of those who you can.

I am in this picture, too - just on the other side of it, sprawled across the floor in front of the TV.

I was so exhausted I did not know how I was going to drive home. And Margie hates to drive at night, on black, slippery roads.

So Melanie poured me a cup of coffee from her cat thermos. "Charlie and I never go anywhere without a cat full of coffee," she explained. She also said that she was a chick-a-dee, and that in the winter she eats one-and-a-half times her weight everyday.

As for Lavina, she wound up with a cat full of... cat!

Just in case you were worried that with all the new Christmas and birthday toys Kalib might have forgotten about his beloved spatula...

Kalib and Jobe came home with us. Kalib feel asleep in the car. When I brought him into the house, he transferred his sleep to the couch. Then about 3:00 in the morning, he came in, climbed onto the bed and slept right by me.

Margie likes to collect rocks. She keeps some of them in this little basket. Looks like she needs to find a new place to keep the basket.

Jobe woke up maybe three times during the night, but went back to sleep after he dined on mother's milk stored in a bottle.

Looks like I wrote a little more than I though I would. I'm still sleepy and exhausted. I need to go back to Barrow before the sun rises, find a nice cubby hole somewhere, crawl into it, pull a quilt over my head and sleep for 20 days straight.

Hey - what would you do if you found a suitcase filled with $50,000 cash?

This actually happened to a friend of mine in Barrow. I will see if I can find him by phone or net and will make this the subject of my next post.

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Three studies of the young writer, Shoshauna; two studies of the aging photographer/author whose blog just won an award / two sisters

The recent great drama for the moon, of course, was the total eclipse that overtook it just as winter solstice began. Even after the drama, the moon would linger, in full, throughout the solstice.

As all who frequent this blog know, I am a person who must get out into the open air and do something every day - walk, ride my bike, cross-country ski (at least before I shattered my shoulder and I hope very soon again) but lately I haven't.

Until yesterday afternoon, I had not taken a single walk since I last strolled across the lagoon in Barrow almost two weeks ago. I just have not been able to make myself do it and I have been atrophying. Yesterday, I decided that I must break through this and so I went walking.

As I walked, I could not help but think that this winter solstice day marked one month from the morning that I received the news that Anil had been killed in a car crash.

And today, this day, when I sit here writing, marks one month since I got the news that Sandy had followed her husband.

One month, yet I feel ten years older than I did when I awoke November 21.

I have been resisting the idea of old age - it has been my theory that old age is concept that applies to other people, but not me - that no matter how many years I accumulate, I will remain a young man.

Right now, it doesn't feel that way anymore.

Still, I intend to fight it.

Late last night, I also learned that this little blog of mine had been voted in as the Best Photography Blog of 2010 in the Blogger's Choice Awards.* For this, I would like to thank all of you who have cast votes on my behalf. And thank you, smahoney, for nominating my work in the first place.

I feel great sorrow that I cannot share this news with Sandy. I will share the news with her, and I will feel that she knows, but I won't know this for certain.

Or maybe I will.

Even when you feel something in certainty, it is hard to know for certain.

After I learned that I had won this award, I went into the house and told Margie. She did something she does not often spontaneously do that much anymore. She spontaneously reached up, put her arms around my neck, lifted her face to mine and kissed me right on the lips.

"That's wonderful," she said. "I'm not surprised. Well, I am surprised. But I'm not surprised."

It was a nice moment.

This woman has gone through so much, sacrificed so much, including anything even resembling security as old age approaches, just so I could follow my dreams and be a photographer/writer in Alaska - wandering here, wandering there, never working for money but always for love, sometimes bringing in a sudden flush of money but most of the time accomplishing quite the opposite.

Thank you, Margie.

Even before my walk ended, I started the car with the remote from about 100 yards away. I then poked my head into the house and told Margie that I was headed to Metro Cafe. OK, she said.

So here I am, pulling up to the drive-through line at Metro Cafe.

As I saw the people inside, I remembered the words from Cheers that Ice Road Truck Driver and India's Most Dangerous Road driver Lisa Kelly employed to tell CNN why she likes to go to Metro Cafe.

"Sometimes you just want to go to where everybody knows your name."

I don't think that everybody who was inside Metro Cafe on this day knows my name. 

But Shoshauna does. Shoshauna knows my name. And she had a smile on her face as I approached.

When I got to the window, Shoshauna informed me that, once again, an anonymous person had bought my coffee and my cinnamon roll. I have an idea who this anonymous person might be - in fact, I think there might be more than one anonymous person.

Whether I am right or wrong, I appreciate it.

Study # 3: Shoshauna, the young writer, preparing my coffee.

I was still sipping that coffee when I drove across the Little Su. I had finished the cinnamon roll.

I turned around at Grotto Iona, A Place of Prayer, and headed back towards home.

Along the way, I saw this car.

And this from India - Two Sisters:

Actually, I do not know that they are sisters. They may have been cousins, aunt and niece, teacher and student, mentor and apprentice - or just friends.

I know nothing about them, other than what you can see in this picture. I took it in a flash of a moment through the window of a taxi, hired by Murthy and Vasanthi, to take Melanie and me touring about southern India with them - and with Buddy.

I cannot even tell you what village we were passing through. It was one of countless.

*Two other Alaska-related blogs won Blogger's Choice Awards: Palingates, for Best Political Blog and conservatives4palin for Worst Blog of All Time. Congratulations to the both of you.

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Some good news! Larry goes home to Barrow, I get a free cup, Raven sits upon a pole; driver of the ric

There has been much sadness in this blog lately and I believe that sadness is going to linger for some time, but I have some happy news to report today. Larry Aiken has gone home to Barrow. His radiation and chemo therapy was painful beyond anything he would have believed, but did succeed and killed his tumor.

So, the day after I took this picture, Larry got to board an airplane and head home for Barrow. There, he will spend about one month learning how to eat again and to regain his strength and weight. Then he will come back to Anchorage for major surgery to remove the killed tumor.

His fight is not over, but he has completed a huge part of it. "I am absolutely going to beat it," he told me.

He gives a great deal of credit to his sister, Ruth Aiken, who called him everyday from Barrow to say, "Larry, don't you dare give up on me."

Earlier on the day of this photo, Larry received a certificate of graduation from the radiation therapy staff that gave him his treatment. 

The certificate declared that:

"Mr. Larry Aiken has completed the prescribed course of radiation therapy with the highest degree of courage, determination and good nature. We appreciate the confidence placed in us and the opportunity to serve you."

I pulled up to the window of Metro Cafe where Shoshauna informed me that, once again, an anonymous benefactor had bought me coffee and a cinnamon roll.

Thank you, Anonymous.

After I drove away from Metro, sipping and chewing, I came upon this scene on Shrock Road. If you look closely, you can see a whale in that cloud.

And here is a raven, sitting on a pole in downtown Wasilla. That raven does not care who the mayor is or ever was. That raven knows Wasilla like no mayor ever will.

That raven is very intelligent.

Moon over Pioneer Peak.

And this one from India:

This is the man who was driving the auto rickshaw at the time I took the picture that appeared in yesterday's post about the cold, empty, streets of Bangalore.

He was driving the rick when I took this picture, too.

He tried to charge us more than he should have, but Sandy would not let him get away with it.

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