Pregnant spider walking; Lavina comes to pick up her babies as we wait for the new baby; Hannah Solomon, who lived for almost 103 years

On my morning walk, I came upon this pregnant spider -- VERY PREGNANT! I had the wrong lens to be photographing a spider, but, to quote once again from Donald Rumsfeld:

"As you know, you photograph a spider with the lens you have, not the lens you wish you had brought or might bring at a later time, when the spider is gone."

Lavina had planned to come out yesterday and then spend the night with us so that she could see her babies again, but she didn't. This was because she had been having contractions Friday - not true labor contractions, but getting ready for labor contractions. Then it intensified to the point where she told Jake that it was time for him to take her to the hospital.

So Jake got ready to go and then the pains went away.

Margie and I then made plans to drive the boys back home Saturday. Lavina called to cancel our plans. She and Jacob were going to come out and pick them up themselves.

The idea of her traveling an hour away from her hospital scared me a bit, but I guess she had been cooped up at home too long, and needed to get out.

In the meantime, Kalib took a nap.

Jobe and me on the back porch.

Kalib prunes some bushes as he waits for his mom to arrive.

She arrived in the early evening, with Jacob and Muzzy in tow. She saw Jobe first, so picked him up and just gazed at him. This bed-rest stuff has been pretty hard on Lavina, because she loves to be with her babies but over the past weeks we have had them here more than she and Jacob have had them there.

Kalib then wanted her attention and he got it.

Soon she had them both.

Soon, they were ready to go - and they were taking Margie with them, so she could help out. Margie is one hell of a grandma, I'll say that. Back when we young and making babies ourselves, I never thought of her as a grandma, but she is a grandma and quite an amazing one, I think.

Before they got into the car to drive away, Jacob and Lavina discovered they had to clean dog poop off their shoes.

I jokes! I jokes! I jokes!

They were just checking out the soles of their shoes.

I think their shoes were new, that's why.

They sure look new to me.

Sooner or later, though, they will step in dog poop.

It happens to us all. It happened to me just yesterday... in the marsh that has dried up and become a meadow.

Gross!

Then they were all in the car, ready to go.

And there they go, Jake and Margie waving at me. You can't see Margie's face because she has turned it to her grandchildren, telling them to wave goodbye to grandpa, but I couldn't see them, so I don't know if they waved or not.

Kalib probably did. I doubt that Jobe did.

He wouldn't have been being stuck up or ornery, he's just not quite into waving yet... but he's getting there.

As I left, I climbed onto my bike and pedalled off on short ride, about ten miles round trip. As I pedalled down Seldon, this airplane flew overhead.

You can hardly see the plane at this size. It would show up bigger in slide show view. A few seconds later, I took a shot that I like better, because I dropped the camera down just a bit and you can see headlights coming down the road with the plane above.

But the plane is too small in that frame to even bother posting here.

I mention this less for the readers' benefit than my own.

One day, I intend to include these words in the title of a book I have so far only dabbled at but hope to publish before I die:

I still look up

And I think the one with the car headlights in it might be good enough to include in that book.

So I write this to myself so that when I come back to this page and see this plane, I will know that there is another image that I must go take another look at.

Remembering: Hannah Solomon, 10/10/08 - 9/16/11

Hannah Solomon, Matriarch of the Gwich'in Nation, who passed away in Fairbanks late Friday afternoon - three weeks before her 103rd birthday. July, 2006.

Hannah Solomon dancing at her 100th birthday party.

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Physically fit and mentally alert, Gwich'in Matriarch Hannah Solomon Celebrates her 100th birthday

 The men do an honor dance for Hannah Solomon: 

See the mural on the wall above Hannah, seen here in the center of a men's honor dance to honor her on her 100th birthday? It is more than a just beautiful painting to Hannah. It is a depiction of the life that she actually knew in her early days. The mural is why Daisy Solomon, Hannah's daughter, chose this place, the Chena River Convention, for the party. "It is the life she lived," Daisy said.

Many of us know something of the robust life that is lived even now in Alaska. The same foods that were important back then are important now, but these days the activities involved are accompanied by the roar and whine of snowmachines, of boat propellers churning their way through water, fourwheelers bouncing over rough trails, and the drone of that airplanes that make the long distances that separate us short.

Back then, it was much quieter and a journey to even a nearby place could take days.

Hannah was born in the Old Rampart on the Porcupine River, not far from the Canadian border, on October 10, 1908 into just that kind of life.

Two hours before the honor dance:

The party began with a great feast, Athabascan style - salmon, both roasted and smoked; moose, caribou, probably a beaver or two, plus salads and such. Unfortunately for me, I was still on the highway, slowed by the storm, driving from south and I did not enter the hall until the final bites of dinner were being swallowed.

I did get there in time to see a woman give Hannah a gift - a story knife. When several people gather, whoever holds the knife is the one who speaks.

Hannah Solomon on her 100th birthday - doesn't she look good!

Thinking that she needed help and being eager to give it, a great-great grandson blew out the flames on the two "0" candles. Hannah wanted to blow out the "1" candle herself. She took a deep breath...

...and Hannah blew the candle out. I wonder what she wished for? Whatever, I hope it comes true.

Hannah had two more birthday cakes. One featured a frosting picture of her when she was young. 

The other a more recent frosting picture of Hannah. Click on the cakes to see them larger.

After blowing out her candles, Hannah received a warm round of applause.

As her longtime friend and fellow Native leader, Poldine Carlo, sings an Athabascan song for her, Hannah Solomon raises her hands and, moving them up and down, dances in the traditional way, even as she remains sitting.

 Blessed not only with a strong, healthy, sound body but a clear and sharp mind, centenarian Hannah Solomon addresses her well-wishers. She expressed her joy at seeing the gathered crowd, as they represented what she had worked and fought so hard for - especially the six generations of her family. "My family have been the most important thing to me. I met my goal and my birthday would be nothing if my family wasn't here."

Numbered among those who came to honor Hannah was U.S. Senator Lisa Murkowski. Murkowski praised Hannah not only for being a leader and inspiration to the Native people of Alaska, but to all Alaskans.

Many came to honor Hannah and to present her with plaques and awards, from organizations such as Tanana Chiefs Conference and Doyon Ltd (above) to State legislators Reggie Joule and Woody Salmon (far left).

Scott Fisher, Hannah's pastor from the St. Matthews Episcopal Diocese, honored her with a plaque, and then a kiss.

  

Mary Beth Solomon, daughter of Hannah's late son, Jonathon Solomon, gives her grandmother a kiss.

As his sons stand behind his mother, Peter Solomon, Hannah's youngest, tells how his mother and father raised the family on the land and taught them to love and protect it. Anywhere one walks in America, Peter said, that is Indian Country. He also put in a plug for Barack Obama, as did other speakers.

As they thank God for Hannah's good life and ask Him to bless her future, Hannah grips the hands of those who pray for her.

  Hannah Solomon with her daughter, Hannah Solomon. Hannah gave birth to 17 children and is also matriarch to 68 grandchildren, 138 great-grandchildren, 122 great-great grandchildren and 30 great-great-great grandchildren. 

When her son, Paul, named after her late husband, spoke of what a good mother she had been, Hannah radiated love. Paul had to leave early to return to the nursing home where he lives. "Someone help me up, so that I can kiss my son before he leaves," Hannah asked.

Hannah stood, and kissed the hand of her son. Behind her, dressed in red, is her daughter, Daisy, who led the effort to organize the birthday party. "My mother has been an excellent teacher," Daisy told those gathered. "She's guided all of her children and their children on how to treat each other. She's always been a very gentle woman, even when my brothers were in trouble as kids."

Soon it was time to jig. Backed up by a group of talented musicians, Bill Stevens, master of the Athabascan fiddle, made the music.

The jigging began with the men's honor dance.

Then the women honored her. There are three Hannah Solomon's in this picture, by the way. At the car left is Hannah Solomon's daughter-in-law, Hannah Solomon, wife of her late son, Jonathon, her daughter, Hannah Solomon, and of course, Hannah Solomon, the Gwich'in Matriarch herself.

I drive to the 100th birthday party for Hannah Solomon, a beloved matriarch of the Gwich'in Nation

 

Hannah's daughter, Daisy Solomon, had billed it as "The Party of the Century" and I did not want to miss it. I had thought that I would drive up to Fairbanks the night before, so that I could be there early, but my wife and sons were very concerned, as I am still recovering from my broken shoulder and subsequent replacement surgery.

"What if you have to change a flat?" Margie chided. "What if you get stuck in a snowstorm?" So I relented and bought myself a ticket on Alaska Airlines.  

So why am I driving up the snowy Parks Highway, towards Fairbanks, traffic coming at me?

When I went to bed the night before, secure in the knowledge that I could sleep in and then have Margie drive me to Anchorage so that I could catch my plane, the wind had begun to blow. It picked up in intensity and soon was howling. It blasted against the house and caused it to shake.

It was the kind of wind that you wonder if it will drop a tree on the house, or blast through a window. It was a warm wind, up from the South Pacific. I knew it was melting our snow. It had collided violently with the cold air that had been sitting on us. I could hear raindrops tattering the house, like machine-gun fire.

The power went out, but was on again by the time I got up.

I sat down at my computer and learned that 20 jets had been diverted from Anchorage to Fairbanks and that Ted Stevens International Airport was now shut down, due to 100 mile-per-hour winds, severe turbulence and wind shear.

I did not want to miss the party. "I'm driving to Fairbanks," I told Margie. I got my cameras, warm clothes and a sleeping bag, climbed into the car and hit the road. 

The rain was heavy, blinding. I knew it would soon turn to snow, and it did.

I thought about turning around, but I know the country between here and Fairbanks and usually if you can make it the 100 miles from Trapper Creek through the Honolulu Creek area and then on to Cantwell, conditions will improve and you can make it all the way.

Altogether, it is a 330 mile drive from Wasilla.

It would have helped if we had already taken our summer tires off and put the studded snow-tires on, but we had not done that. In the worst stretches, I had to slow down to less than 25 miles per-hour. Then, when conditions would seem to improve a bit, I would gradually accelerate. 

Always, about the time I hit 40 or a little above, the car would start to fishtail - a couple of times, dramatically enough that I worried that I might go off the road, but I was determined not to and I didn't. As you can see, not everyone was so fortunate.

One who was not so fortunate.

I could see they felt a little silly. If you want to see just how silly, click on the image and blow it up. They needn't have, though. All of us who travel by car in Alaska do this kind of thing from time to time. And don't get the wrong idea. I am not a person who drives by someone in need of help. But they, and all others that I passed this day, had the situation under control.

Nor am I in any position to risk damage to my still weak shoulder. Plus - there was no way around it: the party was scheduled to start at 5:00 PM, Friday, October 10, and I was already going to be late. I drove past, very slowly, hardly more than a creep, but they were fine.

The Igloo hotel. It's been in Alaska for at least as long as I have and in all that time its never been open. Also, they should spell it "Iglu." This is Alaska, not Canada.

Trooper behind me. I have just gone through Cantwell. As you can see, the weather has improved. Now it is time to gather speed, and make up for lost time. The last time I got a ticket, about 25 years ago, the trooper who issued it told me that I could safely go nine miles an hour over the posted speed limit and not get ticketed. Once I hit 10 mph over, he said, they would nail me. 

So I always try to go 9 mph over the speed limit on the highway. But not when there is a trooper behind me. When there is a trooper, I stick right at the posted limit. 

And he stayed behind me for 50 miles or so.

See the name on the sign? Carlo Creek? It will take on added significance at the birthday party, so take note of it, because when the time comes, I will not remind readers of the sign. I will trust readers to remember.

Although I encountered a few more flurries, the roads stayed good the rest of the way to Fairbanks. I arrived at the party at 6:15 PM. So I was late, but I made it.

Next up: Hannah Solomon turns 100