I drive to town through a beautiful part of America to pick Margie up; Kalib and Jobe; the wind blows; moose die in front of cars

It was time to go pick Margie up from her latest stint at Jacob and Lavina's to help care for Kalib and Jobe. When I took off about mid-afternoon, A Prairie Home Companion was on the radio. Soon, the song, America, the Beautiful was performed. As I happened to be driving in a particularly beautiful part of America, I lifted my camera and shot a frame through the windshield, just as they sang about "spacious skys" and "amber waves of grain."

Around the next bend, I came upon this car, sporting a decal of a grenade on the rear window. That grenade is a little hard to see at this size, but, depending on the size of your monitor, it stands out in slide show view.

In town, gas was a bit cheaper than out here. I wonder what the price will be next week? 

On my way to Jacob and Lavina's house.

I unlocked the door and entered the house. It was very quiet, as if no one was there. I was pretty sure someone was, so I headed up the stairs. At the top, I came upon Martigny.

Margie was resting in the living room. 

Jobe was taking a nap on Kalib's bed. As for Kalib and his parents, they had gone downtown to see some of the Anchorage Fur Rendezvous stuff, like the snow sculptures. As for me, I had no time for Fur Rendez on this day. I just wanted to pick up Margie and head back to Wasilla as quickly as possible.

But we could not head back with Jobe asleep and his parents and brother away.

After a bit, Jobe began to wake up. He had a cold, was not feeling well, and was a bit groggy.

Jobe's little feet.

I do a self-portrait of Jobe and I. I see I should have washed my hair that day.

Oh well.

About half-an-hour after I arrived, the rest of the family came home. Lavina reported that it had been very cold downtown, that the wind had been blowing, picking up the snow and hurling it through the air. The flying snow had stung everybody's faces.

But I know from experience that if I could have gone downtown I would have saw many people frolicking, riding the carnival rides and just having fun.

Lavina was not feeling well, either. Kalib needed a nap. Margie picked him up and carried him to his room. He was not pleased by this and vocally expressed his displeasure, but, once down, Kalib soon fell asleep.

I had been holding Jobe, but I gave him to his mom and then went and sat back down.

Jobe wanted me back. How could I refuse?

Finally, we just had to go. Jobe was not pleased.

Out on the road, we came upon Jacob, who had been walking Muzzy.

The wind buffeted and rocked the car as we drove home. If you were to view this in slide-show mode, you would see that those two signs have pictures of moose on them, as a warning to drivers. Another caution sign, just when you enter the valley, states that 198 moose have been killed by moose-car collisions in the valley so far this winter.

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Mike and Maggie Williams, plus other people bumped into while dining; missing Jobe; Kivgiq edit progressing

This is Mike Williams and his wife, Maggie, who walked into Mat-Su Valley Family Restaurant one day last week just after I had sat down for breakfast. Margie was still in Anchorage, babysitting Jobe and Kalib.

Any Alaskan who pays much attention at all will know who Mike Williams is and I have written a bit about him before. For those who may not have heard of Mike, he is a Yupiaq tribal leader and dog musher from the Kuskokwim village of Akiak and a recovering alcoholic. He was raised with six brothers and a dog team in that time before snowmachines took over the daily work of dogs.

He loved his dogs and he loved his brothers. He would race his dogs and one race he did was the Iditarod. When he would reach Nome, he would take care of his dogs, and then he and a brother would hit the bars and drink up a storm.

But his brothers got killed - all six of them - one after the other and each killing came as the result of alcohol abuse. One brother had served in the thick of the fighting in Vietnam and had come home safely, only to die from alcohol.

So Mike went to war against alcohol abuse. He sobered up. He created a petition and carried it with him as he raced the Iditarod Trail. Each time he would reach a village, he would take that petition around and commit all who would sign it to a year of sobriety.

Did all who sign it succeed?

No, but some did, and I heard testimony from a few of the them in the year 2000, when the Running Dog was still airworthy and I used it to follow Mike and his team along the Iditarod Trail from Wasilla to Nome.

Mike is not racing this year, but his son, Mike. Jr., is. Mike and Maggie had come to Wasilla to make the food drops that Mike Jr. will need to feed his dogs as he races along the trail.

After I took this picture, I put down my camera, pulled out my iPhone and placed a call to Mitt Romney, to see if I could convince him to finance this blog and the electronic magazine I want to add to it.

Mitt thanked me for calling, wished me well, said it was a worthy cause but he just couldn't afford to help. It was disappointing, but at least the three of us sitting at this table all got to make good use of our phones simultaneously.

If the Running Dog was not broken and I had the money for gas, I would love to follow Mike Jr. up the trail to Nome in this year's race, but the Running Dog is broken and gas is really expensive these days, anyway.

At the very least, I will photograph him at the starting line.

On another day last week when Margie was still in town, I did another breakfast at Family. As I was leaving, this fellow, Franz, noticed my camera and asked me about it. He wondered what kind of things I photograph, so, to demonstrate, I sat down at his table for a moment and took a photo of him.

Then we engaged in an arm wrestling match, which I easily won.

I jokes. We did not. And with my weak, fragile, artificial shoulder, I cannot arm wrestle anyone.

But when I was younger and my shoulder was real and I could, I almost always won - even against people much larger than me.

Not always.

But almost.

Now I have done my bragging for today.

On Friday evening after Lavina brought Margie and Jobe home, none of us wanted to cook. So I ordered a Pizza from Fat Boys and then went to pick it up.

This fellow, Ron, was dining inside. He noticed my camera, commented on it and asked what kind of pictures I took with it.

So I sat down with him while I waited for the Fat Boy to box up my pizza and gave him a demonstration.

So Margie had Jobe all of last week and I had him Friday, Saturday and Sunday. Now he is gone back to Anchorage and I am missing him. There are reminders of him all about the house.

As to my Kivgiq edit, yesterday I did complete my initial pass through of Day 2. Today, I begin on Day 3.

I mention this just to assure those who love Kivgiq that I am sticking with it and will yet make my big series of Kivgiq posts.

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Jobe's parents come to get him; Kalib loses his spatula - what could take its place? Two beggar boys and a puppy; tomorrow, I return to Kivgiq

In the morning, Jobe's parents called to tell us they were about to leave Anchorage to drive to Wasilla. They suggested that we meet them at IHOP, where they would buy us breakfast.

So, about 45 minutes later, I bundled Jobe up and packed him into his car seat.

Then we were all together in IHOP and it was busy there - as it always is on a Sunday morning.

Jobe was happy to see his parents, alright, but the moment after he exchanged his greetings with them, he wanted to come back to his grandpa.

That's just how it is with Jobe and me.

Kalib, however, was most content to settle down in the loving arms of his mom.

Except that he also wanted to spend time with his dad. 

Jobe did find himself the recipient of some special Mom love, but even then his mind was on grandpa.

We returned home and in a bit Jobe's Uncle Rex showed up. Jobe was glad to see him, but still his thoughts were on grandpa.

Then Dad decided to read a book to Jobe. For a moment, Jobe was interested.

Then he decided he would rather be held by his grandpa than to hear how the story came out. So he pushed away from his dad...

...and came to me, so that I could hold him, which I did. Afterward, I decided that I had better go into my office, so that Jobe could visit other people. Plus, I had to put up yesterday's blog post.

Perhaps one day, Jobe will rebel, as young people do, and grow tired of his old grandpa. Perhaps Jobe will avoid me then, strive not to be seen by his peers with me.

Perhaps not. Perhaps he will be one of those young people who hangs tight with grandpa, no matter what.

He will always know his grandpa loves him. And, whether his rebellion draws him away from me for a time or not, I will know that he loves me, too.

He has already made it manifest. Such love does not just go away, but survives through youthful rebellion.

Plus, maybe before he hits that rebellion we will catch some fish together and cook them over hot coals and then eat them and then, even when he is rebelling, he will sometimes remember such moments fondly.

Jobe - my canoe has been dormant since I shattered my shoulder, but it will soon be time to activate it again.

Maybe Kalib, The Spatula Kid, can cook those fish for us. But it was kind of sad - Kalib came to the house with no spatula. His spatula is lost. No one can find it. His parents tried to give him another, but he would not accept it. It was THAT spatula or no spatula.

So he found a pair of tongs and has been packing those around instead. I understand that he has used them to turn hot dogs over, or maybe it was hamburgers.

He finds the tongs to be good for grabbing many things.

Still, I hope the spatula is soon found.

If it is, will he still want it?

Or will he only want the tongs, now?

Now that he has learned that he can grab things with them.

Just be careful what you grab, Kalib - especially when it comes to human and cat body parts.

When it came time to go, Kalib headed to the car with his parents. Jobe did, too. 

This is the last day of the three day weekend and I have actually managed to rest up a bit. Tomorrow, I will return to my Kivgiq photos.

And this from India: Two beggar boys and a puppy

At one stop, I came upon these boys and this puppy. They were beggar boys, hoping to get a few coins from anyone who would give them. I believe that I have mentioned this before, but I was counseled by a number of sources not to give money to the beggars. I was told that what I could not see on the streets was the Fagan-like scroundrels operating unseen in the background - unscrupulous, cruel individuals who would send young children, mothers, and old people out onto the streets to beg and who would then collect the bulk of their earnings and keep them for themselves.

As to adult beggars who might not be tied into such rings, I was told that most of them were people who could work but who had chosen not to, but to beg instead and I should not encourage them. There are temples all about India where food is gathered in generous quantities and served to the poor, that none are turned away, that those who truly need it can find sustenance at these temples and that those who truly want to help donate to the temples - not the beggars themselves.

Still, it was very hard for me and I did pass on a number coins in India. Even if it should be true that a Fagan-like character was going going to take most of the money I gave to a child or mother of the street, that child or mother's survival is still tied to whether or not he or she is going to bring back enough revenue to stave off the wrath of Fagan.

The fact is, though, that so many people are out begging that one with limited resources himself can only give out so many coins and then he must stop or he will have no more coins for himself.

I have found this to be true in many American cities as well.

The bigger boy wanted me to photograph him with the puppy, but he did not want the little boy to be in the picture.

The little boy was determined to be in the picture.

I believe that I have also noted that in the short time that we were blessed to spend with Soundarya and Anil, who truly did not have that much themselves and would struggle with financial matters up until their deaths, on a number of times I saw one, the other, or both of them step quietly aside to give a coin to a beggar.

That's how my Sandy was - and her husband, too.

Generous people, both.

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Kivgiq, 2011, part 6, day 2a: My Kivgiq work gets interrupted by family and love

Earlier today, I was busily editing day 2 of Kivgiq and I kept seeing the words, "Family" and "love," - just like you see them here, behind the Kaktovik drummers.

There was evidence of "family" and "love" all around - sometimes mixed with a bit of mischief, such as when little Jessie James Bodfish Panik of Wainwright boy went running across the dance stage with a drum stick.

Of course, today when I would look at such pictures, I would think of my own family, especially my own small grandsons, Kalib and Jobe.

I have pretty much been alone all week. On Monday, we got a call from Jacob. Lavina was not feeling well and needed help with the little ones. So Monday afternoon - our anniversary - I drove Margie into town, dropped her off to help with Kalib and Jobe and then turned right around and drove back home to Wasilla.

In the time since, except for momentarily glimpses of Caleb just before he goes to bed after working his night shift, I have been all alone.

It doesn't bother me to be alone, not when I have all these pictures to sort through and edit. I can just go and go and go without interruption and so I do.

Perhaps too much. Without Margie here to rein me in a bit, I tend not to stop, but to keep going when I should give up and go to bed. I posted last night's blog at 2:04 AM, for example, then stayed right here, at this computer and dabbled with other things until about 4:00 AM.

I did not expect to see Margie until this evening, but, right after lunch, I heard a knock upon my office door. Guess who was here?

This guy, Jobe! Lavina was feeling much better and had driven Margie home.

I'm afraid my work fell apart after that. My picture editing slowed down to almost nothing.

I accomplished very little workwise, but accomplished a bit more "family" and "love" wise.

Kalib came, too, but he had fallen asleep in the car and never woke up. Lavina soon left, taking the sleeping Kalib with her. She left Jobe to spend all or part of the weekend with us - depending on how lonely she gets without him.

And I discovered something else late this afternoon. Monday is a holiday. That makes this a three-day weekend. My readership tends to drop off on weekends - especially three day weekends.

And the truth is, I am very tired. "Exhausted" would be a better word. I pushed myself hard day and night during Kivgiq and I have done the same since my return.

So I decided to take it a little easy this weekend - to get some visiting done with Jobe. I will keep editing my Kivgiq pictures, but I will hold my further Kivgiq posts until the weekend has passed. By then, maybe I will have a better handle on the material that I have.

I will still make little posts through the weekend - maybe on Jobe, or whatever. 

Then, on Tuesday, I will resume my Kivgiq posts. I am not covering a news story anymore anyway. I am now putting out a record of a historical event - but one that I want to share the pictures from, particularly with my friends on the Arctic Slope but also with anyone else who is interested. It's going to take more time than I originally anticiapated, but that's okay.

Maybe I will find some time this weekend to hang out with moose. I found this mom and her two nearly grown calves as I was driving home from my coffee break.

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The birthday party that I missed

While the wind did not quit blowing, it eased off enough that the Alaska Airlines jet did make it into Barrow last night and so I boarded that jet and headed south, toward Anchorage.

During our Fairbanks layover, I turned on my iPhone and this picture came in as a text message from Lavina. It is from Jobe's first birthday party that took place on Saturday, February 12, as I was busy covering Kivgiq. Please take note of the places where the frosting is missing from the cake. The larger patch to the right was made by Jobe's butt when he sat on the cake and the small ones in front of that by his feet.

I am told that he did not like sitting in the cake. Both he and Kalib did enjoy eating it.

I hated to miss my grandson's first birthday party, but I so loved being at Kivgiq and I could not miss the final day. I will make it up to Jobe before the week is over.

The plane was packed leaving Barrow and did not get out until about 45 minutes late. Margie picked me up at the airport about midnight. Since breakfast, I had not eaten anything other than the two tiny pretzel and soy beans snack bags Alaska Airlines has used to replace the steaks, fish, chicken, rice, salads, fruits, cakes and all those things that they used to feed to their customers.

I was hungry, so we stopped at the McDonald's in Mountain View and we did not get home and settled down into bed until 3:30 AM. I had not slept much during Kivgiq and I had worked hard and been on the go constantly, so I wound up sleeping in today until nearly 1:00 PM.

It felt good, but I have a headache now.

Margie and I had planned to go back to Sakara Sushi this evening to celebrate our 37th anniversary, but we wound up eating a huge, afternoon breakfast at Family Restaurant and neither of us are up for a big meal tonight, so we will have to find some other way to celebrate.

I have so much work to do now - got to start putting my Kivgiq pictures into my home harddrives and then I face a huge amount of editing.

For now, though, I can't do anything.

I am wasted - no, not that way - just worn out and in need of a little downtime.