The brothers two: Kalib and Jobe - what do they think of each other? I stop briefly at All Saints Episcopal to pay my respects to Senator Ted Stevens; a man walks alongside a fence

I made a quick trip to Anchorage late this afternoon and visited Kalib and Jobe. Jobe had been on his mother's lap, but Kalib pulled him from her and held him - for a few brief seconds.

This could be deceptive. Kalib is not trying to slug Jobe. Kalib is merely bounding across the couch with his usual energy. Lavina knows how rough Kalib can play and so she is ready, just in case he bounds too far.

Jobe studies his big brother. I wonder what he thinks of him? I wonder how he will think of him in the future? I had three older brothers and when I was small I looked at them with a combination of terror, adoration and, of course, love.

Well, the terror part didn't really apply too often to Ron, the youngest of three, four-and-half years older than me. He had his terror moments, but mostly he was very good to me, bought me treats, let me read his comic books, Mad Magazine and often took me out to fly the wonderful model airplanes that he spent so much time building. When I graduated from high school and followed him to Brigham Young University, where he had returned after serving a two-year Mormon mission in Germany, he let me look at his Playboy Magazines.

We hung the centerfolds on the wall in such a way that when the inspectors that BYU sent out to inspect student rooms, even in off-campus housing, the images would be hidden the moment our bedroom door opened. It was always amusing, to sit there  in our room as those serious, righteous-looking men in suits came through the door, stood there with the Playboy centerfolds hidden right behind them, observed the fish swimming in my tank, our study areas, various books - including the Bible and the Book of Mormon and proclaimed our room to be clean, appropriate and up to good BYU-LDS standards.

Damn! Ron died altogether too soon!

The older two, Mac the tall twin and Rex the short twin, kept me in a state of near constant terror, but still I held them in adulation and it was they who the bullies who came after me soon learned to fear and respect. 

So I wonder what it will be like for these two as they grow?

And what does Kalib think of Jobe right now? I know he is a little jealous, as Jobe gets attention that not so long ago went to Kalib alone, but I do believe he loves him as well.

Kalib rolls about in the midst of his dad and Muzzy.

Before I left them, I saw Jobe, Jacob and Lavina together on the couch and thought it would be nice if Kalib were there, too, so that I could get a picture of all four. Jacob and Lavina motioned to him, but he would not come over. Instead, he stood by the TV, where, in local news coverage of his life and death, Senator Ted Stevens, killed last week in a plane crash near Dillingham, appeared in an old news clip with President Jimmy Carter. 

It was okay that he did not come. It made a better picture this way.

I gave some thought to doing some serious coverage of the memorial for Senator Stevens on this, the day that he lay in repose in a closed casket in All Saints Episcopal Church in Anchorage, but decided against it. Many serious news organizations, including the Anchorage Daily News and The Alaska Dispatch and Alaska Newspapers, Incorporated, would be doing serious photo documentaries of everything that would happen, both today and tomorrow, the day of his funeral.

What could I add to it? Not much, I decided. Plus, I had no desire to go in and compete with my fellow photographers today. Still, Alaska history, American history, was being made today. Plus, I had several contacts with the man in life, had photographed him more times than I can remember and on this day I felt that I must go in and pay my respects.

So I did. I walked to the closed casket, stood solemnly in front of it for just the right amount of time, shook hands with his family members seated nearby, walked to the back, signed the guest register and then sat down for just a few minutes next to my friend, Al Grillo, the freelance photographer who for so long covered this state for the Associated Press. I shot a handful of frames and then I got up and quietly exited...

...but before I did, I noticed this trio and so photographed them, too. I have no idea who they are. I could have asked for their names, I suppose, and their feelings, but I was not being a journalist today. I was just being a citizen, there to briefly pay my respects and then go.

As I left, I saw Channel 11, preparing to broadcast. I'm not really too familiar with these folks, as I tend to watch Channel 2 News the most. Actually, I tend to get most of my news off the internet these days and locally that tends to mostly mean the Daily News and the Dispatch and a number of blogs, most of which don't really cover the news but get angry about it instead.

As I drove out of Anchorage, I saw a man, walking by a fence. This is frame 6...

...Frame 5...

...Frame 4...

...Frame 3...

...frame 2...

Frame 1.

And so walked this man on the evening that Senator Ted Stevens lay in repose.

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Transitions - Chilly Barrow to hot Fairbanks to cool and wet Wasilla; Kalib and Jobe return to the blog

Among the things that I did on my last day in Barrow was to interview elders Wesley and Anna Aiken for Uiñiq. They grew up the old way and still express amazement that they can now wake up everyday in a warm house and with the flick of a switch turn on a light.

On April 8, they will celebrate 63 years of marriage and they have a host of children, grandchildren and great-grandchildren to celebrate with them. I can't say for certain, but I hope to be in Barrow at that time so that I can photograph the celebration.

This is from the night before, and you can see Wesley sitting right up front. I took this picture at what was a Slope-wide gathering to honor the bilingual teachers and others instrumental in setting up bilingual programs over the past five decades or so. The teachers gathered in every village on the North Slope and were joined together by teleconference and then all were honored with certificates and pins. Many were honored posthumously. 

Some, such as Anna Aiken, were not able to attend, but Wesley picked up her awards and brought them home with her. 

These are some of the people who have been working hard to keep the Iñupiaq language alive and vital in the face of TV, video and internet.

Van Edwardson called me on my cell phone to tell me that he had been tearing up the floorboards at his late grandfather's house to build anew when he found this seal-oil lamp beneath it. These are the instruments that people used not so long ago to both light and heat their extremely well-insulated sod iglus.

The lamp would contain seal oil and wicks.

Van notes that the house of his grandfather, Ned Nusunginya, had been there for all of his life and undoubtedly longer than that. "I'm 51," he said.

The lamp is made from soapstone, apparently from Canada and must have got to Barrow via trading and bartering. "This was used by my ancestors," he told me.

After he found the lamp, he took it to the Iñupiat Heritage Center, where it is being given museum care.

Some time ago, I can't remember precisely how long, the artist Vernon Rexford contacted me to ask for permission to use my photographs as the basis for some balleen scrimshaw etchings. I greatly appreciated the fact that he asked and told him to go ahead and just etch my name in there, somewhere. Not long after I returned this time, he was out on his four-wheeler when he spotted me, came over and invited me to come and meet him at the Heritage Center, where he has a full-length balleen hanging in the gallery, with his recreations and interpretations of my photographs from one end to the other.

It was an amazing thing for me to see, to think that what I did had inspired him and he had found a way to work my work into his own vision and create a new kind of life for it that I had never imagined.

He later took me to his work area in the Heritage Center and showed me this smaller piece, also based on my photographs, that he was still working on.

You can see that it is sitting atop a copy of one of my old Uiñiq magazines, with another one above that. The sketch is of his grandmother, the late Bertha Leavitt, and was drawn by Larry Aiken, son of Wesley and Anna, from a photograph that I took of her on the beach in July of 2006. There was a nice breeze blowing that day and it would sometimes catch and lift the hem of Bertha's parka and when it did, I would snap the shutter.

Now he was going to work off the sketch of my photo to etch the image of his grandmother, his Aaka, into his balleen.

I ate a lot of food in Barrow, so much so that when it came time to go, my jacket was feeling tight around the tummy. It hadn't felt that way when I had arrived. 

Due to the satellite problems that were putting the internet out of commission for many hours at a time, Alaska Airlines had been advising passengers to check in at least a couple of hours early because if they were offline, they would have to write tickets by hand.

So I went in two hours early, but the satellite was behaving, Alaska Airlines was online and I received my ticket in reasonable time. Now I needed something to do, so I walked the short distance to the Teriyaki House. I just wanted something light, so I ordered a bowl of soup - a huge bowl of soup, as it turned out.

You will remember Jessie Sanchez, the young Eskimo dancer and whaler who has become a Barrow Whaler football player. He is the kid who got hurt in the first Whaler game. Now the Whalers would soon board the same jet as I would to fly to Fairbanks to play their second game at Eielson Air Force Base. Jessie was feeling much better and he had gotten a Mohawk cut.

He was also getting a bite to eat at Teriyaki, along with his friend Lawrence Kaleak, who you saw dancing at Pepe's at the victory celebration.

After we ate, we all walked back toward Alaska Airlines. That's Jessie's girlfriend, who told me her name but I forgot. She would not be going to Eielson, but only to the Alaska Airlines terminal to say goodbye. For the past week straight, the weather in Barrow had been continually cold and windy, with periods of rain, mist and fog thrown into the mix.

Now, that we were all leaving, it was starting to improve.

Soon, we were all on the jet, football players, coaches and a whole bunch of other people including tourists, businessmen and women and people just heading out to visit someone or to return home.

That's Anthony Elavgak, sitting there thinking. What is it that Samuelu, Samoan, has in his hands in the row behind him? 

Why, it's a ukulele! He makes a nice sound with it. Before continuing on to Anchorage and then Wasilla, I got off the plane in Fairbanks and I did go to Eielson and photographed the game.

It was a very different game than the opener in Barrow. Whereas the temperature in Barrow had been in the 30s and the wind in the 30 mphs, it was hot in Fairbanks and Eielson - in the 80's. The game was tough and Barrow lost, big time, never got on the scoreboard.

But remember, they are a young team, with only four seniors. They never gave up. They fought to the end. And there was one young man, Adrian Panigeo, who really grabbed my heart because of the size of his heart. He was not the biggest man on the field - far from it - but pound for pound I think perhaps he was the toughest. Certainly, there was not one tougher, not on either team. Defense, offense - making tackles, carrying the ball, getting hit hard by bigger men, still to blast his way through for extra yards when it looked like he should have been stopped - that was Adrian Panigeo.

The announcer had a difficult time pronouncing his name, but he had plenty of opportunities to practice until he got it right, because Panigeo was key to so many plays.

Sadly, he was put out of the game before the first half ended and left the field in an ambulance, having taken a hard blow to the sternum and he got overheated.

Football is a new game to the Iñupiat, but to watch Panigeo play, you would think it had been in his genes forever. I haven't had time to edit and prepare my pictures of the game. Maybe I will put some in later, or maybe I will just wait and save them exclusively for Uiñiq.

We will see.

Early Sunday afternoon, I boarded the plane in Fairbanks. I didn't really want to. The high temperature in Fairbanks was forecast to be 85 degrees. I wanted to hang around, with nothing to do but whatever I wanted to do, and experience that 85 degrees. But I also wanted to see my family and I could not afford to stay in Fairbanks just to have fun, so I boarded the plane.

As it turned out, the temperature in Fairbanks hit 91 this day, a record both for the date and for this late in August.

The plane departed an hour-and-a-half late and there were a bunch of people on board with a tour group that was continuing on to Hawaii. They had to switch planes fast, so they asked all of us who were not going to Hawaii to stay in our seats until those who were had left the plane.

So all these folks you see standing and trying to get out were headed to Hawaii. Unless there's some cheaters in there, who were only pretending to go to Hawaii so that they could off the plane ahead of the rest of us.

After we landed, the voice on the intercom welcomed us to Ted Stevens International Airport. I had always wondered how it felt to Ted Stevens, each time he was on a plane and heard this same welcome.

Now, Alaska was preparing for his funeral. He would never hear that welcome again.

Anchorage had just set its own weather record - for the most consecutive days of rain, 29, I believe. It must be 31 now.

Margie was there to pick me up. As we exited the airport, we found ourselves traveling alongside this small tourist bus. We were in wild Alaska for certain.

Sunday night, Margie and I spent our one night in the same house together and then, early the next morning, I drove her into Anchorage so that she could spend the next four days babysitting Jobe.

Here's Jobe. My pocket camera battery died immediately after I took this picture.

The other day, I was looking at queries people use to get to this blog. One read, "Where is Kalib?!" 

Here he is, as captured in my iPhone.

An iPhone image of Margie, Muzzy, and Jobe. Muzzy recently had minor surgery that brought to an end all notions of perhaps breeding him. Now, he must not be allowed to lick himself in a certain place or to bite at stitches.

In the afternoon, I headed to Metro for the usual hot drink, then took the long way home. As I did, I was so overcome by sleepiness that I stopped at this secluded place, closed my eyes and feel alseep listening to All Things Considered.

When I sort of awoke a few minutes later, I shot this image with my iPhone.

I then drove home the even longer way and shot this image by iPhone, too. The battery was still dead in my pocket camera, that's why.

This was yesterday. I awoke this morning to the sound of more rain. Another weather record broken.

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A pocket camera glimpse back at the gathering before I get going for real; roadside scenes while on coffee break in Wasilla: Baby Jobe in green

That's Harold Frost of Old Crow, Yukon Territory, playing fiddle on the left and Chester Fields of Fort Yukon on base. Yesterday, I stated that today I would begin posting my Gwich'in Gathering images in earnest, but I am not yet ready to do that.

I was very lazy yesterday and it was the only day this week that I would have Margie home with me. I did not even begin to transfer the 360 gigabytes or so of high resolution, RAW images from my big pro cameras from the portable hard drive I took to Fort Yukon into what for the moment is my big working harddrive attached to my desktop computer, until about 8:00 PM.

Those images were still transferring when I went to bed about 12:30 AM. Now I must put them in my photo editing program and start the task of editing and processing and I feel completely overwhelmed. It feels like a task that would take a month to do right.

The very thought makes me feel like I just want to go back to bed and sleep for a year or two.

That's another thing that I really like about my tiny pocket camera - the Canon s90. Not only is it tiny and light, but there is no way to shoot pictures fast with it, so you don't get that many. The ones that you do get have nowhere near the resolution of those taken with my pro cameras, so they do not bog the editing program down and they are quick and easy to work with.

I didn't use the pocket camera much in Fort Yukon, but I did keep it in my pocket at all times and every now and then I did pull it out and shoot a frame or two - such as in this case.

There was a table in front of the fiddle player. I wanted to get a shot from under the table but there were speakers and other gear beneath it, so it was a whole lot easier just to reach under there with my pocket camera, frame it in the LCD and take a snap than it would have been to have crawled under with all that stuff with my big gear and then let rip with bunch of frames.

So for today, I am just going to use  the few scenes associated with the gathering that I did with the pocket camera. Once I get some editing done, you will see Harold and Chester again, along with a whole lot of other folks.

Harold did not come to the home of Ben and Carrie Stevens, my hosts, with his fiddle, but when we all gathered there we could still hear the fiddle music in our heads.

Little two-and-a-half-year old Alex, "Sunshine," must have heard the music very clearly and he remembered well how people had jigged to that music. So the sound and the memory went down to his feet, took hold of them and suddenly he began to jig in the kitchen. Soon, Sunshine had three women dancing with him.

I wish I could dance like that.

This is Jessica Black, who served as Miss World Eskimo-Indian Olympics in 2000. Jessica also spent part of the gathering camped out in the Stevens home in the room across the hall from mine. We became friends, just like that.

She received the scarf tied as a band around her head at a give-away held in honor of a deceased baby boy. After she put it on, she did a short dance, Gwich'in style.

My host, Ben Stevens, preparing moose-rib soup to feed to those gathered at the gathering. Mighty tasty. Excellent ribs. I wish I could have some now. I can't, so maybe I will go to Taco Bell instead.

Ben had to leave early to return to his fish camp far down river, near Stevens Village, his original home.

Just to remind you that I am now back home:

Yes, I am in Wasilla and yesterday after stopping in at Metro to say "hi" to Scott, Carmen and Sashanna, I drove away with an Americano and then took a short drive to drink it. Along the way, I saw this car, parked with its lights on at a corner.

And I saw that someone had rebuilt the memorial for the young woman and her unborn child who had been killed in a collision at Church Road and Schrock. Two crosses used to rise from this memorial, but vandals broke them and messed up the scene.

Now it had been put back together, but without the crosses.

On my last day home before I left for Fort Yukon, I took Margie to Metro and as we waited in the drive-through, a succession of police cars and emergency vehicles screamed by, red lights flashing. A bit later, on our drive, we had just turned off Schrock Road onto Lucille Street when we saw that the road was blocked ahead and red lights were flashing.

We detoured elsewhere through the neighborhood to avoid the scene and then I forgot about it. I did not know what had happened. I never thought about it again until yesterday, when I drove past it for the first time since my return. This is what I saw.

Given the location, my immediate thought was that it had probably been a four-wheeler accident and that the person who had died had been young.

I looked it up online after I got home. Indeed, 17 year-old Cheyanne Jorge had died after rolling her four-wheeler. Her passenger, also 17, was treated at the hospital and released.

Horrible.

Early this morning, I drove Margie into Anchorage so that she can spend the rest of the week babysitting Jobe. Here he is, dressed to match the bathroom colors.

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The celebration my family threw for me; afterward, we took a walk in the dog park

After making a quick stop at Metro Cafe, I drove into Anchorage to Jacob, Lavina, Kalib and Jobe's house, as the family had invited me to come in so they could throw a birthday party for me. I arrived a little before 6:00 PM. I found only Margie and Jobe there.

Jobe was snug and happy in the Apache cradle board that his great aunt LeeAnn had made for him before he was born. Hanging on the wall behind is a picture that I took of Kalib, not long after he was born.

Soon, Lavina came walking home from work. She saw me in the window and waved.

Next, Lisa and Bryce arrived with two little boys who Lisa was babysitting for one of the doctors she works with. The older boy was named Jacob and he was frightened of Muzzy - he did not fear that Muzzy would bite him, but rather that he would slobber on him, or perhaps roll on him.

Margie removed Jobe from the cradle and put him on my lap. I told him a series of ridiculous little sentences. Everytime I did, he smiled and even laughed.

That was his birthday present to me.

Next, Charlie and Rex showed up. I felt kind of sad that Melanie would not be here. Regular readers will recall that she is in Donlin Creek, doing work for the engineering company that she works for and she is carrying a slug-loaded shotgun, just in case she is forced to shoot a bear.

She called just before I took this picture. She said she had seen some bears, but only from the helicopter that they had been flying around in. She had seen no bears from the ground and she was not really worried about bears at all, but it did worry her to have to carry the shotgun around.

She had experienced some ridiculously hot weather (yes, Alaska's Interior can get surprisingly hot in the summer - in the 90's. Fort Yukon, where I will be next week, has recorded 101 - and in the winter, -78).

I had hoped that Rex would bring his new girlfriend, but she had gone down to Seward with her parents to do some kayaking. Rex met her a few weeks back after she came out from the San Francisco Bay area to summer in Alaska. Now her parents are here visiting, too.

I am very glad that he has found her.

As for Caleb, he had stayed in Wasilla to sleep and then go to work his nightshift, but, as I noted yesterday, I had seen him in the morning and he had given me the rain fenders for my bike.

I would bring food home for him.

After Jacob and Kalib came home, Jacob went out to the back porch to barbecue our dinner on his and Lavina's new grill. 

Little Anthony and little Jacob - the two boys who Lisa was babysitting - watch a few minutes of Ice Age.

Jacob comes in from the porch with the grilled corn. I tell you - that corn was good! As was the bread, the steaks, the chops, the hot dogs and the salad.

I don't know how it happened, but one bad problem I find with all digital cameras, including the professional models, is that they can change settings all on their own, just because you are moving around. Somehow, my pocket camera had set itself to compensate for whatever exposure I was trying to make by two stops over. I did not discover this until after I took this picture.

I don't feel all that bad about it. The feeling that I wanted to catch is still there. 

What I don't like is the fact that I forgot to recharge the battery to my pocket camera. It was on reserve power when I arrived and I knew the battery would soon die. So I had to shoot sparingly, just to be certain I had a frame or two available for my cake.

"Happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you, happy birthday dear Billy - daddy - grampy, happy birthday to you..."

And here is my cake - Margie baked it and made the frosting. Heavenly, it was just heavenly. Six candles - one for every ten years that I have so far lived.

I could have eaten six such cakes and I would still have wanted more.

Kalib helped me blow out the candles.

Then Kalib brought me the family gift - a hands-free set for my iPhone that will allow me to plug it into the car radio and play music stored in it. Rex gave me some top-of-the line, adjustable walking sticks that can convert into ski poles.

Next, most of us headed to the dog park. My camera battery died before we got there and I was very disappointed, because we went to a lake and I was amazed at how beautiful and still it was, right there in Anchorage. It looked like we were nowhere near the city.

Ducks swam in the lake and repeatedly came right up to the little boys.

Just as we were preparing to leave the lake and move on, a friend of mine happened along. She was taking pictures with her iPhone. I suddenly remembered that I could, too. Yet, even my iPhone battery was almost dead. Still, I would shoot while it lasted.

So the images from here to the end were all done on my iPhone.

"A bear!" Lavina exclaimed when she first spotted this teddy bear laying at the side of the trail.

"A bear? Where?" Jacob responded, then scanned the trees. Bears, grizzlies even, do come into this neighborhood and Muzzy once had a frigthening encounter.

Lavina figured that someone was lonesome for  this little teddy, so she suspended it in the fence in the hope that they would come back looking and would easily spot it.

As we walked, Kalib stopped every 40 or 50 feet to throw a rock into the creek.

In time, we reached the playground. My friend who had been taking iPhone pictures was there. This is she, Kelly Eningowuk of ICC Alaska, with her daughter Mina and dog Alexis. Kelly is the one who found the funds to take me to Greenland. Yes, I still intend to post more from that trip, but mostly I think I will save it for the publication we hope to make.

The thing about this dog park is that dogs are allowed to roam free here. They do not need to be on leashes. This seems like a recipe for big trouble to me, but I saw many dogs and not even one bad incident.

You can see Muzzy in the background.

What do you think he is going to do?

Muzzy charges in, shakes his mane, and throws slobber everywhere. That's what he was going to do. Right after I took this picture, my iPhone battery died.

So I could take no more pictures. This was okay, though. It was after 10:30 PM and I needed to drive back to Wasilla. So I went into the house, hugged everybody goodbye, including my precious wife, who still had two days of babysitting Jobe ahead of her.

Then I drove home alone, under an exquisitely beautiful sky surrounded by magnificent mountains, so strikingly beautiful in the radiant, late-night, northern light of summer.

I could not take a picture, but I did not care.

It was wonderful just to be driving home in the midst of such fantastic, magically-lit, beauty.

Many people wonder why I would ever even want to live in Alaska.

If they could only have seen it!

Even if I had been carrying my best camera and lenses with me, batteries fully charged, I could not have captured such beauty.

Such beauty is beyond the reach of any camera. A good photographer can hint at it, but that's all.

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As I work to finish up my Greenland posts, Lavina, Kalib and Jobe invite us to Jalepeno's; Kalib walks past the wreckage of my past life; Margie and Jobe on the couch

Yesterday, I stated that I was about to buckle down and finally finish up my Greenland posts. I had, in fact, set out to do this very thing when Lavina called Margie and asked for us to meet her, Kalib and Jobe at Jalepeno's, where she would buy us lunch.

Lavina had come out to the valley to teach a class on diabetes, which is why Margie had not already gone into Anchorage to begin her week-long babysitting shift. On this day, she would babysit at the house.

We did join the three at Jalepeno's.

The waitress found herself helplessly charmed by Jobe.

Lavina fed Kalib and Jobe scrutinized the world outside the window.

Lavina kissed Jobe. 

Astute observers will note a bad flare in the mid to left portion of this and the above frames. I am afraid that the lens to my pocket camera has been afflicted with a permanent mar that no amount of cleaning can remove. This happened in New York City in April, but in the time since has only gotten worse. Now, this happens whenever I shoot against the main light source, sometimes manifesting itself like this, sometimes as two rainbow-colored streaks coming down the frame; sometimes both flaws appear in the same frame.

I don't like it, but my first objective in taking a photograph is to capture some kind of feeling and if I succeed, then I don't get that uptight about the technical flaws.

I still notice them, though.

I have thought about sending the camera back to Canon for repair, but I will probably just hang on to it until the next generation of the s90 comes out, or something just as tiny but better, and then purchase that.

The ability to carry a camera around in my pocket has simply spoiled me; caused me to learn to hate my big, bread and butter cameras.

I can't stand to carry them anymore.

All of a sudden, Jobe started to scream and cry, terrified.

He looked at his grandpa and calmed down.

When we arrived at the house, Kalib did not go in but set out to the backyard. I cut through the house so that I could get there ahead of him. I caught him in this photo, walking past the wreckage of my destroyed airplane, the Running Dog - walking past the wreckage of the dream that I once strived so hard to live.

Whatever anyone thinks of my lifestyle and how I get around and what I do, it just has not been at all the same since I crashed this plane. I lost something precious that day, September 22, 2001. I always thought that I would get it back. I still think so, but am beginning to doubt.

My entire identity and concept of who and what I am has been hit hard, damaged severely. Life does not feel the same to me as it did before, when The Running Dog was airworthy and I would sit in the cockpit, my right hand upon the stick, Alaska beneath my wings.

Kalib, who does not yet know that his grandpa used to fly this airplane all about Alaska. I wish that I could have strapped him into the back seat and have taken him for a ride on this very day.

Margie and Jobe, in the house. I think she had just changed his diaper. I had just come in from my office, where I had been going through my Greenland pictures.

Margie and Jobe, again.

I can't get enough of these two, together. And now both are gone from me for awhile, as Lavina took them and Kalib back to Anchorage with her this morning.

It's possible that I will not spend another night with Margie this trip home. Saturday morning, I leave for Fort Yukon, for the Gwich'in Gathering. Maybe someone will bring Margie home Friday night so that she can get up in the morning and go back to town with me Saturday when I catch my plane.

I don't know yet.

Late last night, I did finally complete my first pass giving at least a glance to every photo that I took in Greenland.

It had been my intent to do nothing but blog Greenland today, to put up two, three, four or however many posts necessary to bring this project to some kind of conclusion before I go to bed tonight.

But now that I have put this post up, I think that I had better leave it at the top for 24 hours, because Kalib and Jobe have many friends and relatives out there who come to this blog only to see them. Some of my readers don't care about anything else that I post here - they only want to see Kalib and Jobe. Some of them might miss this post if I put something else on top of it. 

So the Greenland conclusion will just have to wait for one more day.

I hope I get it done before I leave for Fort Yukon.

I have many other things to do between now and then as well - a couple of which must be done today. I need to be three people, each one of whom is me.

Four, maybe.

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