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.

Bike ride, part 1: Kalib throws a big rock; the blonde lady battles her cancer with optimism

Later in the day, I got on my bicycle and pedaled away. Jacob and Kalib had taken off walking nearly an hour before and so I figured they would have looped around and been half-way through the march by now.

So I was very surprised to turn the corner and find them playing in these puddles, a mere few hundred yards from the house.

Jacob was holding this big rock over his head and was about to throw it into the puddle. This put me in a bit of a predicament, because I wanted to catch the splash but I knew that if I did, the water water would likely splash upon my pocket camera. I did not want to get it on the lens.

So I snapped the photo just when the rock reached the water and then jerked the camera away, but still the splash got on it. Big, ugly, gritt, drops of dirty water landed right upon the lens.

I had no lens cloth with me and so had to carefully use my t-shirt to clean the lens. Even so, I did not totally succeed and it would diminish the rest of the pictures that I would take on this ride - perhaps ever again with this pocket camera.

Kalib then picked up the rock again, with Dad's help.

Then his dad gave him a smaller rock and he threw that. If I would have had my motorized DSLR, I could have got the full series of him throwing and the rock splashing, but the pocket camera is slow and limited in this record.

But it is easy to carry and when you are riding a bike, this is important.

Kalib hefted this rock all by himself. But it was too heavy for him to raise much higher than this. Still, I was most impressed.

Then he grabbed a smaller rock and was able to raise it high.

Father and son.

Dad threw a rock into the grass. Kalib went to look for it, but he did not find it.

I got back on my bike and pedaled away, but turned for another look and this is what I saw.

I had not gone very far at all when I spotted Patti, walking on the trail towards me. Patti is the blond woman whom I referred to last week, when I met her almost in this same spot and she informed me that she has cancer on her liver.

I did not name her then or show her picture, because it seemed to me that she had enough to deal with. She says it's okay, though, so here she is.

She looks much better than when I saw her last. Despite the diagnosis that would give her from months to just one year to live, she is walking, eating, thinking about riding a bike and she is determined to beat it.

I told her that was good, because for decades now I have been seeing her on my walks, bike rides, and ski expeditions and that was the only way I could imagine it. And if I didn't?

"It wouldn't be right," she said. "It wouldn't be right at all. So I'm going to beat it."

We all know of people who are told they have terminal cancer, but who beat it and live. So fight, Patti! Just like you are doing.

As I visited with Patti, here come these three.

Patti was glad to see Kalib, but Kalib was feeling shy. Muzzy was not shy.

Patti, who has always kept herself physical fit. This week, she will learn when she will go Outside for surgery.

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.

How the contest between Senator Lisa Murkowski and toddler Kalib turned out

I awoke with a tough decision to make - go to the town hall meeting being sponsored by Senator Lisa Murkowski or follow Kalib to the Alaska State Fair. Ever since I learned about the town hall two or three weeks ago, I had been eagerly looking forward to it. I had prepared a little argument in my head and was ready to deliver. I knew it would upset some people but I suspected that they would not get so unruly and belligerent as we have seen in newscasts from the Lower 48 - but if they did, I was ready.

I had been debating whether to bring my big pro DSLR cameras or just the pocket camera and I had good arguments for each.

And then last night I learned that today was kid's day at the fair and Kalib would be going. I wanted to photograph that glorious expedition.

Two readers weighed in with opposing advice. Said aksuzyq, "Come to the fair. We will be there!"

To be moseying about and all of sudden have someone squeal, "Kalib!" and then come up and introduce herself - that would be fun. Good argument.

Omegamon said, "Go to Murkowski's meeting. We need some folks there who are for health care reform, so the yellers and shouters don't give the impression that everyone agrees with them."

There has been a curious phenomena at work here in Alaska. It seems that when Senator Mark Begich, a Democrat, holds town halls, most who come and sound out are in favor of health care reform. When Republican Murkowski does, it seems that most who speak up are against.

So, yes, indeed, she needs to hear from those of us who would like to see her do what I believe she knows at a fundamental level is right, but she does not want to buck party politics. And party politics right now is to bring down Barack Obama, at all costs and facts be damned.

As I mulled my decision, Margie and Lavina fed Kalib his oatmeal.

Finally, I decided to follow my grandson to the fair - and here is why: First, I have made my position on this matter known to Murkowski. I sent my first email to her several months ago and in the past couple of weeks I have sent her three more. I have called her office and left her a message.

I have stated my position in various online news forums, including my comment on the Bob Herbert column that was chosen most recommended by New York Times readers.

I have committed myself to attend a function in Anchorage September 3 that is designed to give both Murkowski and Begich a send-off message as they get ready to return to session in Washington, DC. So it is not as if I have not taken a stand on the matter.

And, the hard fact is, I could wave my hands all about at the town hall but many people would be doing the same and the odds are that Murkowski would never have called on me.

Most importantly, Kalib would be attending the fair as a one-year-and-seven-month-old only one time in his life. He has reached that absolutely magical stage where everything that he sees and touches is a new and wonderful discovery - and this year he would discover the fair.

Sure, he will get excited about it in subsequent years, but this year he would discover it. In his entire, life, he will make that discovery but once.

And I wanted to be there to observe and document the wonder of it all.

First, though, I had to take a short, vigorous, bike ride. So I did, and as I pumped the pedals toward home, I was surprised to see these three walking through the rain toward me.

So I stopped and laid my bike down. Kalib had to check it out - because, as I noted, everything is a new discovery to him.

He did not care that it was raining. This made me glad, because it would almost certainly be raining at the fair.

And then he decided to check out a mud puddle. It looked like he was going to stomp in it...

...but then he suddenly held back, but with great excitement, contemplated the possibilities..

He decided to go for it, but stepped cautiously.

And then he stomped his way through. Soon, we were all back home. His parents said we would leave within the hour. 

So I took a shower.

When I got out, Jake informed me that Kalib was exhausted, was going to sleep and that the trip to the fair was off.

At this point, there was about 15 minutes left in the Murkowski town hall.

Sometimes, life just plays funny tricks on you.

The thing that we mostly do at the fair is overeat. Not knowing what else to do, I suggested that we go somewhere else and overeat, but noted that one of the parents would have to stay home to watch over the dozing Kalib.

So Jacob stayed home. Margie hobbled out on her crutches and she, Lavina and I went to Jalepeno's. It was the first time that we had been there since May. Lavina insisted that she pay.

I invite her and she pays. I must invite her more often.

Country Kalib and the fish; Juniper stops by for a visit

Kalib loves my tropical fish. He loves to feed them and his dad usually helps him. Yesterday, he came running in with me, grabbed a can of fish food before I could supervise, ripped off the lid and then the fish food was all over my floor.

Jimmy, my good black cat, jumped off his chair and chowed down. Jimmy loves fish food. He craves it above the finest cat food ever created.

It was very tough to clean up.

This particular fish is called a parrot fish. It is not a natural fish, but is bred across species. Some aquarium purists tend to get very angry about parrot fishes and to scold people who breed, buy and sell them.

I did not know any of this when I walked into a fish store about eight years ago and saw this guy swimming around in a tank.

All I knew is that he looked very cute, and pretty, too, so I bought him, brought him home and put him in a tank.

I don't care what those purists say. I love him. He is a bright and intelligent fish. He studies the world and he figures things out.

I remember when he was just a pup. I only had two tanks then - a 29 gallon and a 55 gallon. I put him in the 55 gallon and he very quickly figured out my habits and knew just when I would feed him.

One day, I sat down right in front of the tank and put my face almost to the glass. This frightened him and he scooted off to hide inside a pipe ornament.

"You silly parrot fish," I chided, "it's just me. You know me. I'm your friend. Come back out now."

When he heard that, he swam right back out and came right to me, so that we were nose to snout. He tilted his body and head ever so slightly and got a sheepish look on his face.

"Oh, yeah," he said. "It's just you. I should have known. I don't know what got into me. I thought you were an alligator. I feel so silly."

That was when I knew just how smart he really was.

Oh, good grief! I had planned to clean the tanks the very day that Margie fell. I have been sidetracked and negligent. I had better clean them and fill the water back to the top.

So I looked out into the front yard and saw a tiny cow grazing in the grass. It was the tiniest cow that I had ever seen. I was pretty certain that it was the tiniest cow that anybody had ever seen, but there it was, grazing in the grass in my front yard.

I went out to investigate. Holy cow! It was not a cow at all! It was Juniper! Lisa had come out and had brought her along.

It is about time. Juniper has not paid us a visit in far too long.

Soon, Kalib was looking for Juniper. He did not know that she was climbing a brush pile.

Then he spotted her. She spotted him.

Kalib's dad lifted him up so that he could look straight into her eyes, but that was when Juniper decided to go back down.

Soon, though, Juniper went right back up. She was happy up there, because from this perch, she could see the entire world.

Even you, because you are in the world. Whatever you were doing at this time, Juniper witnessed it.

Don't worry. She won't tell. She never tattles.

She is not a tattle cat.

You can find a more complete account of Juniper's visit on the blog of my alter-ego, Grahamn Kracker, should you be interested.