Reunion at IHOP as ravens fly outside - sled dog, utlralight and Charlie; Melanie tricks me out of my large Pepsi

It is kind of a Sunday tradition around here for me to take whomever of my children might be about to IHOP for breakfast. Today, that meant Caleb. Our waitress was Kimberly. She was friendly and chipper, and brought coffee and multiple-flavored creamers immediately, then took our order.

Kimberly turned then away from our table, saw some people standing right behind her and shrieked. They shrieked too. Then they all started hugging. Some of her family members had come up from Kodiak, and had surprised her. Above, she hugs her brother.

I am not certain if this is Kimberly's sister, sister-in-law, good friend, or what, because I had to let her work, and let them eat, so I did not ask many questions. I did give Kimberly the address to this blog, though, and she can add any information that see might like in "comments."

I then looked out the IHOP window and saw ravens flying, including this one, mysteriously trailed by flying saucers. Some might challenge me on this, note the uncanny resemblance the saucers bear to the lights in IHOP and argue that there must be a connection.

That's the trouble with this society - even when you have photographic proof, the skeptics stand ready to shoot you down.

Down towards Chugiak, I saw this flying object in the sky. Now, what do you skeptics have to say about this?

And here is a sled dog, a member of the team owned by Diane Benson, Tlingit poet, playwright, actress and former candidate for Alaska's lone seat in Congress, mother of the Iraq war veteran, Latseen Benson, who is making a life for himself despite the fact that he lost his legs in that country. If you are curious, you can find the story on my other blog, the one about cats, beginning right here.

This is Charlie, in the parking lot at Taco Bell. None of us had expected to meet here. In fact, I had been out and about and had planned to go back to my house for a few minutes - just long enough to fix myself a sandwich and then go pick Margie up from work. But when I stepped into the house, my nose was struck by an aroma most foul.

Muzzy had pooped on the floor. Muzzy is not the kind of dog who poops on floors, but when I saw the various piles he had left in an array spread before the back door, it was obvious that his tummy had gotten upset. I was wondering what to do about this when Caleb drove into the driveway, coming from wherever he had been, and then walked into the house.

I decided to let him deal with it, but I had no desire to make a sandwich as he was doing so, so I headed off for Taco Bell. Along the way, Melanie and Charlie pulled up beside me in Melanie's little car, then followed me to the parking lot.

"What are you doing here, Dad?" Melanie chided in her reprimanding tone. 

"I'm going to get lunch," I said, "and then go pick your mother up from work."

"Why are you just getting lunch now? It's too late! And I can't believe your going to Taco Bell!"

"I can't believe you grew up in my house and can't believe I am going to Taco Bell," I countered. "Get in, and you two can come with me and then we will go pick up your Mom and get coffee."

Soon, we were at the drive-through and when it came time to order drinks, Charlie said he didn't want one and Melanie asked for a small Pepsi. "And I'll have..." I began.

"A small Pepsi!" Melanie interrupted me, "order a small Pepsi!"

"...a large Pepsi."

"Dad! A large Pepsi? Why? I can't believe it!"

We got our food and drove to a place in the parking lot where no cars were and stopped there to eat it.

"Dad," Melanie said as I reached for the large Pepsi. "Charlie and I need to share one drink, so you take the small Pepsi and we will share the large."

Did she think I would fall for this?

"No," I said. "I want the large Pepsi." I reached for it, but suddenly felt bad for Charlie. He had insisted that I let him pay for it all and it would not be right for him to now only have half of a small Pepsi - even if it was his own fault for not ordering a drink to begin with.

So I drank the small Pepsi - which was not enough to wash down a quesadilla and a burrito - as they shared my large Pepsi. Then we went straight to Wal-Mart, picked Margie up and headed to the nearest coffee shop. Charlie tried to pay again, but I wouldn't let him. You could say that I put my foot down, and when I did, the car moved forward and we drove away, because the gas pedal was beneath my foot.

And this event happened, right here, in Wasilla, Alaska.

Some readers might get confused, and think that it happened in Amarillo, Texas, but it didn't. It happened here. In Wasilla.

We don't go to Texas to get coffee. Everything is too small down there. We feel enclosed, trapped; we scream for elbow room, whenever we are down in Texas.

That's the trouble with living in Alaska. Afterwards, no other place can stack up. Outside, it all falls short.

Driving home from Wal-Mart: Eagle and windsurfing ravens; As I walk, I meet a pup named Charlie

As I took my walk this morning, I spotted two individuals on the road ahead of me. One was quite frisky.

Turns out his name is Charlie. Charlie took a shine to me.

Charlie.

I was driving home from Wal-Mart and the wind was blowing, hard. It was the kind of wind that warms things up, but still, if you stood in it, you would have thought it very cold. The ravens loved the wind. It blew straight into the false front of the building above, then turned toward the sky, creating a strong updraft for the birds to windsurf on.

Here come some ravens, making their way toward the updraft.

The ravens catch the updraft, and go windsurfing.

What fun they have! Ravens love to windsurf.

As I drive on, I spot a bald eagle in a tree, less than 100 yards from the windsurfing ravens. There is no traffic behind me. I stop, roll down my window, shoot my pocket camera, and then continue on.

Later, while walking again, a DHL van comes by. I have heard the bad news about DHL. I wonder if the driver is about to lose his job.

 

I drop Margie off at work at 5:00 PM this afternoon. It has begun to snow.

Melanie visits, and reads the paper. Royce was her birthday present, 14 or 15 years ago. Nobody can remember for certain. Now she lives with two other cats. Royce still lives here. They are always glad to see each other.

A quiet vote on a noisy day in Wasilla; New York series still on hold

After marking the names of the candidates of her choice, Margie casts her ballot. Now I will back up just a few minutes.

Our polling station is at Tanaina Elementary School, where all of our children attended, and where they sometimes had Sarah Palin's father as a substitute teacher. Some of the students were at recess when we parked and headed toward the door.

As we walked toward the voting room, I was surprised to see students walking out. We always vote here and never before had I seen students in the ballot room.

When we stepped into the voting room, I saw more students, getting a civics lesson on how the voting booth works.

Inside the voting booth, my unmarked ballot awaits my vote.

After Marking her ballot, Margie heads to the machine into which it will be cast.

In the evening, Margie smiles as First Lady To Be Michelle Obama joins Barack Obama on the podium in Chicago after his acceptance speech. I know that there is a great deal of disappointment in Wasilla tonight, but this was just the outcome we had hoped for. Wasilla's disappointment is profoundly offset by the new surge of hope that so many in this country now feel.

What a bleak time we have been through! What a horrific challenge Obama faces. Yet, if there is anyone who can inspire and lead us through the storm that is bearing down upon us, I believe it is Barack Obama. He needs our help. He is going to face so much opposition from the very people who created this mess that now faces him. On that account, John McCain's concession speech was an excellent and fine piece of work. 

It sounded like the John McCain that so many of us once loved and respected. Had that John McCain been on the campaign trail, rather than the one who sought vainly to capitalize on the anger and fear that the Bush administration so exploited, who knows how this election might have turned out?

Now, the obvious question is, where are my pictures of Sarah Palin and her entourage, as she cast her vote in Wasilla this morning? I'm afraid I blew that one, folks. I was not too concerned about it at all. I thought that I would handle it just the way that I have been handling most everything in Wasilla in this blog.

I did not know what time she would vote, but I figured I would eat my breakfast, then head out in the general direction of her polling station and if I happened upon her entourage then I would photograph it, if not, I wouldn't. No big deal. Her vote would get plenty of news coverage without me being there. 

As usual these days, I went to bed about 4:00 AM and then did not get up until a bit after 8:00. As I was preparing my oatmeal, Caleb walked into the house, home from his overnight shift at work.

"You should have seen it out there," he said. "Sarah Palin had an escort of State Troopers a mile along. They had the roads blocked off and were escorting her back to Anchorage to catch her flight." This happened about 7:30 AM, he said.

Suddenly, I felt that it did matter; that I should not have even bothered going to bed but should have just stayed up and then very early set out and scoped out the scene and photographed it - even that I should have gone through the process ahead of time to get the proper press credentials and should have been right there in the voting room to provide my own witness of this onetime moment in Wasilla's history.

Too late.

I had also thought about going to Anchorage tonight, to drop into the big party that the Obama supporters would surely stage, but instead, I choose to spend the entire day hanging out quietly, alone with my wife. 

That part of the decision was good. I enjoyed hanging out just with her. I always enjoy hanging out with my wife.

Wasilla: Halloween drive to Anchorage to send Kalib south; New York City: On the way to the Met I walk by a bus

I barely get home from New York City and all of a sudden I find we must send baby Kalib to Arizona. This means a drive to Anchorage, where we will pass him off to his mom and dad at a Halloween chili feast. Margie dresses him in his St. Bernard outfit, buckles him into his car seat and then gives him his little fish book, meant to be read upside down.

As we pass through downtown Wasilla, three blocks from the wisdom of Main Street, we pass by a fender bender. Perhaps it would not have happened had the drivers been cruising Main Street instead of Lucille. Unlike Main Street, even Governor Palin knows that a great deal of foolishness takes place on Lucille Street.

As we approach Wasilla Lake, we happen upon a hitchhiker. I do not pick him up. To see a larger copy of the image, just click on it. This is a good example of the modern day beautification of Wasilla.

Before we can reach "Mocha Me Crazy," we are passed by a white dog in a red 4x4. To better see the dog, click on the picture. 

Needing a bit of a caffeine kick to continue, we pull up behind the pick-up parked at the drive-through window of "Mocha Me Crazy." I witness money being exchanged for coffee.

Then we pull up to the window. As we wait, a truck appears on the highway in front of us.

Next a school bus comes by. I see no students in it, only the driver.

As we sip our coffee, we pass by Pioneer Peak. 

We approach Anchorage, where hot steam rises through the cold, still, air.

As we drive toward the Native hospital, Providence hospital looms in front of us. I think about my two stays there in June. It is a great hospital. I owe Providence so much - in more ways than one. Damned insurance company. Their rep lied when he sold me the coverage so long back - said that if anything happened to me in out in the roadless areas, the insurance would cover my air ambulance bill. That air-ambulance bill came to about $40,000. Insurance says they do not have to pay it. 

That's not all they're not paying. Damned insurance company.

When people speak of the deplorable state of health care in the US, they always talk about the huge, growing number of uninsured. They need to talk more about the problems of being insured.

But I love Providence hospital. Thank you, Providence, for what you did for me.

We stop at the day-clinic at the Native hospital, because Lisa works there and wants to see Kalib before he goes to Arizona. I wait in the car, by the words that honor our convicted Senator, Ted Stevens. The Native hospital has always cared for my family, myself excluded, and by and large it has done a good job. I believe it is the best Native hospital in the country - because of Senator Ted Stevens.

So much in this state that is good is there because of Senator Stevens.

Whether he was rightly convicted or wrongly convicted, this has been a sad, sad, sad week for Alaska. 

We arrive at the Halloween chili eating party at Duane Miller & Associates, an engineering firm. Melanie works there and invited us so that we could sample her pumpkin chili. "20,000 moose can't be wrong," her little sign, the one that promoted her chili over the many other vats made by other employees, beckoned. Here is the pumpkin chili cooker (and it was tasty - spicy - hot - the hottest of the four chilies that I tried - and the best) holding Kalib before he leaves for Arizona.

Melanie had been very worried that her brother, Jake, my oldest son, would not show. She wanted to show her engineer brother off to her engineering firm coworkers. But he did show, and then he and Lavina took Kalib from us and headed off for Arizona. 

Charlie, Melanie's boyfriend, got into the picture. It is a good thing he is standing behind everybody, because he came dressed as a 70's man, in big 7o's style, baby-blue bell bottoms and a shirt with ruffles - not to mention an absurd sports jacket. He looks ridiculous.

That's the same kind of clothes I wore to my wedding reception. At least Margie looked beautiful, her lovely dark skin and long, jet-black hair set off against her white dress.

And now I back up to Wednesday of last week, in New York City:

I had intended to make tonight's New York entry a series of subway pictures. But it is too late and I am too tired. So I put in this bus instead. I took it as I walked to the Met. It looks like this guy Dexter must be a killer or something. 

Wasilla: Birthday party, curious cat, curious baby; New York City: Sarcophagus and kids

Today was Lavina's birthday. No, despite the number of "candles," my daughter-in-law did not turn five, but 27 - I think. I could ask her, but she and Kalib have already gone to bed. As for the candles, we did not have any, so we used matches instead. Now you know why there are only five and not 27. Just imagine the difficulties we would have faced if we had tried to light 27 matches on Lavina's cake, all at once.

Earlier in the day, Kalib had found something mighty interesting in the box. Martigny was riveted by something outside. We never did figure out what. We looked through the windows and could not see it. Margie even went outside to check it out. Not a clue.

Two boys and an Egyptian sarcophagus - the Metropolitan Museum of Art, New York City. It is late and right now I am just too tired to carry out the plan that I laid out last night. In fact, I edited and prepared several pictures from my walk through the museum to put into this entry, but, with the exception of this one, I will save them for tomorrow.

Also, I took a number of pictures as I wandered about Wasilla today, but I am too tired to bother with any of them, save for the two above. As for my plan to include a few of the Wasilla images that I took to New York in each entry until I am finished with this trip to New York, yes, I am too tired to do that tonight as well.

But with Wasilla images in this entry, and one from New York, I am keeping to the spirit of my plan, if not the letter.

All the images in this entry were shot with the Canon Powershot G9 point and shoot pocket camera. I am trying to decide whether or not I should get the new G10.