Return to a missing day: bunny rabbit, cowboy and grandson, dogs, bear, horse hair and more

During my hiatus, I continued to take pictures as usual -- far too many to go back and blog it all, but I will blog a little bit of it. There are a couple of photographic encounters that stand out in my mind, and I will still blog those for sure. I thought about blogging one of them today, but my readership always falls on Saturdays, so instead, I closed my eyes, ran my cursor up and down over the list of missing days, stopped, opened my eyes, and found the cursor had stopped on Thursday, September 1.

So here we go on that day:

I decided to have breakfast at Abby's Home Cooking and to go by bicycle. When I stepped out of the house, I saw this bunny rabbit dashing through the yard.

Poor bunny rabbits.

They seemed to appear out of nowhere early this summer... two or three, maybe. Their numbers quickly grew. Soon, bunny rabbits were everywhere. One evening, I came driving down Sarah's way and there was a bunny rabbit standing at the end of every driveway, like little sentries. I passed maybe ten houses protected by these little sentries.

Then, a few weeks ago, their numbers began to decline. Dogs? Maybe someone had a feast of bunny rabbit stew, somewhere, with bunny rabbits packed into the freezer for later? Humanely trapped and gone to the pound? Perished on chilly nights?

There are still a few bunny rabbits out there, but, a month from now, there won't be.

Winter is coming. These bunny rabbits are not winter rabbits.

Around here, winter is the domain of the snowshoe hare, dinner to the lynx, fox, and eagle.

Snowshoe hares are Arctic tough. These bunny rabbits are not.

At Abby's Home Cooking, I found Tim Mahoney, drinking coffee and feeding a fresh cinamon roll to his grandson, five-year old Wesley.

Wesley already helps out on the ranch.

Tim and Wesley, headed out the door.

Tim and Wesley, getting into the truck.

I was pedalling home when suddenly this dog shot past me, striking from behind, grazing my left ankle as it passed. It gave me a start, but then I recognized it. I know this dog. He likes to stage quick ambush charges, which can really startle you, because he seems to suddenly materialize out of nowhere and for a moment you do not know what is happening.

He is not a mean dog, though. He just likes to give you a start. Once he has done so, he is harmless, even without the muzzle.

I wonder if he has had any bunny rabbits to eat?

As usual when I am home, the remainder of September 1 was pretty much spent at my computer - although I did take my usual 4:00 PM coffee break at Metro Cafe. As I was driving and sipping on Sunset, this dog came charging after my car. 

The dog falls back, as seen in my rearview mirror.

Continuing on, I saw that a conversation was taking place ahead, at the side of the road.

I have no idea what they were conversing about. Could have been anything... dogs, horses, women, politics, the high cost of gas, all the heat and fire in Texas and how they're sure glad they are here and not there... I don't know. 

Anything.

Peanut butter, perhaps. Does it go better with honey or jelly?

Honey, I say - but jelly can be pretty good, too.

Especially when you are cold and you have been cold for a long time, but now someone has given you a hot thermos of coffee and some Sailor Boy pilot bread cookies and there is peanut butter and you slather it on, spread jelly on top of that and you feel the heat of the coffee as it chases the peanut butter jelly down your gullet and then you have to say, this peanut butter and jelly is pretty damn good, so you lather up another.

I continued and soon saw a little black bear crossing the road ahead of me. I hoped to catch up to it before it disappeared into the trees, but it disappeared quick.

Lately, I have heard reports of some big grizzlys in this same area - of paw prints over a foot long.

On Shrock I had to pull to the side of the road to let this screaming ambulance pass by.

Somewhere nearby, someone's day had gone terribly wrong.

I hope not too terrible, but who knows?

Perhaps for someone it was the day that ended all days; perhaps someone just had bad gas and thought it was a heart attack, or maybe they shattered their shoulder like I did.

I don't know.

Come evening, I took my bike ride. These two passed me on Church Road and as they did, the kid in back waved at me. I did not have my camera ready and I missed the picture.

I felt bad about that, but there was a downhill stretch ahead of me, so maybe I could get another chance. I pedaled as hard and fast as I could and caught them and passed them about a quarter mile on. As I passed, they both waved.

I stopped at the Mahoney Ranch and took a few photos of the oats, standing in teepee-like bundles. I am not going to post those pictures, because on other days I got some, complete with Mahoneys, that I like better.

As I was taking pictures, I heard someone shout, "Hey, Bill!" I looked up and saw a Mahoney horse, in the distance, too far away for me to photograph. "I notice your hair is getting thin," the horse shouted with the full force of his massive lungs. "I left some of mine on the fence for you. Put it on your head. You'll look lots better then."

Now, back to just yesterday:

Okay... just to keep this timely, I return almost to the present, to yesterday: Kalib, pushing an empty stroller through the back yard. His mom experienced many contractions yesterday, but did not go into full labor.

We are definitely on baby watch, now.

Study of the Young Writer, Shoshana, at Metro Cafe #7,829: Shoshana with Jay Cross, pilot and aircraft mechanic. Jay was thinking that maybe my airplane could be put back into the air for less than I think. Someday,he wants to come by take a look at it.

Unless I get rich, I think that airplane is done for. As I have stated before, if I could come up with the money to put it back into the air, I would just buy another one, so that I could get there, quick. But if I get rich, I will buy another and get my wreck rebuilt and then keep both. That airplane and I had many good experiences together. I love that airplane, and that's why I keep it around, even though its no good anymore.

My next door neighbor hates my plane. He built a fence between us, just so he wouldn't have to look at it.

He doesn't like cats, either. In fact, he hates cats.

Otherwise, he seems to be a pretty decent fellow, but I doubt that we will ever be the best of friends. He keeps pretty much to himself and so do we.

I wonder how he feels about bunny rabbits? Hopping through his yard?

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I walk to breakfast at Abby's and see bunny rabbits hopping

This is not part of my walk to breakfast. This from my bicycle ride last night as I was returning home, pedaling down the Seldon bike trail somewhere between 10:30 and 11:00 PM.

There was a little bit of magic going on in the sky.

This morning, I decided that I would take advantage of the fact that there is now a restaurant with a good breakfast in easy walking distance and so set out to walk to Abby's Home Cooking. It is a mile-and-a-half away and so I told Margie that if she decided she wanted to join me she could drive over in 15 to 20 minutes.

I had barely begun to walk, when I saw two bunny rabbits hopping through the grass. This is one of them. I have been seeing these bunny rabbits all over this end of the neighborhood ever since breakup. Two, sometimes three. Bunny rabbits being bunny rabbits, there might be more than that.

Given the number of loose dogs around here (two of which reside at this very house) I am kind of shocked that these bunny rabbits have made it this long.

I have asked a couple of neighbors whose lawns the bunny rabbits frequent if they are theirs, but none of them have had any idea where they come from.

Me, I've got an idea where they come from. It would be right in keeping with so much that has poured out from a certain place. But I do not know for certain. There could be other explanations, so I will keep my theory to myself, for now.

On the Seldon bike trail, I met Sugar - a good and friendly dog. She had been having digestive problems the past couple of days, but, as of this walk, everything seems to have come out okay and she is feeling better.

Here I am at Abby's. I hope one day to come in and see butts sitting on all these stools and all the tables full, except for one, where I will sit down, hopefully with Margie - Kalib and Jobe will be welcome, too, of course, and all other members of the family who might help us manage them. That's Jeremy she's talking to and he came in to order an egg sandwich. Jeremy works in the convenience store next door and did a lot to help Abby get started.

Today, Abby was working alone - cooking, waitressing, bussing - the whole works.

She received a couple of take-out orders while I was there, but I was the only sit down customer.

Here she is, having just served me my order. And I have to tell you - and I mean no offense to either of the family restaurants, Mat-Su Valley or Denali, or to IHOP, but this was simply the best eggs and potatoes breakfast that I have had anywhere in Wasilla - and I have never had better hashbrowns than what I was served today.

Monday's hashbrowns were good, but today's - oh, my goodness! She started out with a whole, uncut, Yukon Gold potato that she did not take a shredder to until after I ordered.

Boy, was it good! Margie never did show up. After I walked back home, showed her this picture and told her how good it was, she wished that she had come.

I don't know what she ate. Oatmeal Squares, I would bet - from the box that Charlie gave us.

Abby's brother, Tim Mahoney, father of the Joe Mahoney who made the stools, came in and got his mug filled. If you missed the picture of Tim working in his field, click right here. 

As I was walking out the door, her son Justin came in with his beautiful girlfriend, Stephanie, and gave his mom a hug. I should have got a picture of Stephanie, too. I don't know why I didn't. I guess I'm still a little bit shy.

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I seek a July 4 photo of American freedom for a civilian mass audience of Greece: Part 1 of 4: Breakfast at Abby's

I had wanted us to be at Abby's Home Cooking right at 9:00, so that maybe we could be her very first customers. But, when you are a sleepy person on a Fouth of July morning and you and your wife have two little kids to get ready to take with you - well, it just takes longer to get ready than you think it will.

So it was closer to 10 when we pulled in.

As we got out of the car, Kalib suddenly said, "taste of home."

I don't know how he came up with such a thing, but he did.

On the third of July, my friend in Greece who I have met only in a burning place online made a comment wishing all his friends in the USA a happy Fourth. Civi is an amazing guy, full of goodwill to just about everybody, but life has been challenging for him in Greece lately - as it has for his entire nation.

So I told him that on this fourth of July, I would find a picture to take, just for him.

Maybe I would find it during breakfast at Abby's?

We had barely sat down when my nose caught an aroma wafting through the air... and it wasn't home cooking.

It was Jobe. Margie had changed his diaper just before we left the house, but he waited until we all sat at the table to drop the bomb... and it was a smeller!

That's not Pepsi Kalib is drinking for breakfast, by the way - it's apple juice.

We placed our orders - eggs, bacon and hashbrowns for me, biscuits and gravy for the Margie and scrambled eggs, apple juice and toast for the boys and then dashed back to the car and off to the house to pick up a diaper for Jobe.

For some reason, I had imagined us having a nice, peaceful, relaxed, breakfast, but it wasn't working out that way. Neither boy wanted to sit still - they just wanted to jump up, run around, roll around, crawl beneath things and cause chaos. 

One kid would take off, I would catch him, sit him back down and then the other one would go.

I had my hands more than full and could hardly touch my camera, but I squeaked this one off. 

Paulie Parkhurst, the sister of Abby, came to the rescue. She took both boys from me and led them to a place where a play area had been set up, just for people in our situation. Paulie was very good at this, and Kalib loved her immediately.

Outside the window, Abby gestured to what I believe was a friend or relative, coming to check out the new restaurant on opening day.

It seemed to me that it should have taken Margie maybe eight minutes to get to the house and come back with the diaper, but it felt much longer than that. MUCH longer. But maybe that's all it was - although I do not think so.

In time, she returned and we commenced to eat breakfast.

Margie took charge of feeding Kalib.

I took charge of feeding my little man, Jobe. Everything was now peaceful and calm - for about three minutes. Then those boys were rambunctious again.

When I eat breakfast out, I generally ask to have my toast served after I have finished everything else, so that I can slowly eat and savor it as I sip coffee.

When my toast arrived, Margie took the boys so they could walk towards home. "You can enjoy your toast in peace," she said.

I hated to see them go, but, indeed, I did savor and enjoy my toast in peace.

And I got a little bit of a chance to visit Paulie, Abby and Abby's husband Andy Hammond. The morning of July 4 might seem an odd time to open an out-of-the way restaurant, but they had their reasons.

Abby and Andy first met in Canada, 20 years ago on the Fourth of July.

They got married in Dawson City, Canada, where the Mahoney's have a ranch, one year later - on July 4. At the wedding, they served a pig and a bear leg and then danced on a platform that Andy and Abby had made.

Since that time, the Fourth has been a doubly special day to them, a day of taking on and trying new things.

Hence, they opened their restaurant on the Fourth of July.

"We had a wild time," Paulie remembers.

Given the fact that there was a parade going on in town, and people were out camping and fishing, shooting off crackers and rockets and doing Fourth of July things, there weren't many customers on opening morning.

In fact, most of the time we were there it was just us - which, given the circumstances we faced with our energetic and rambunctious grandsons, that was probably for the best.

But, here is what I have to say - although I did not really get to savor it, the food was good. This is a real, genuine mom-and-pop and brothers and sisters and children and friends of children operation.

I know - down on the Parks Highways where everyday cars pass by by the thousands - this time of year, tens of thousands, I suspect - there are many good restaurants to stop and eat at - everything from sushi superb to some very excellent Mexican cuisine.

And for breakfast, there is IHOP, Mat-Su Valley Family Restaurant and Denali Family Restaurant and maybe somewhere else too and you can get very good, satisfying and filling breakfasts at all these places and they are right on the highway, which is not Main Street but is Wasilla's main drag, and is a very busy place.

But, I urge you, if you are in this area and you are hungry, turn off the Highway at Church Road, drive about 2.5 miles down until you reach the corner of Church and Seldon.

There you will find Abby's Home Cooking.

Give it a try.

Margie and I will be back... I think without the boys next time, unless Jacob and Lavina are here with us.

When I stepped out the door and got into the car to leave, I discovered that Margie and the boys had not gotten far.

So, I stopped and picked them up.

"Want to go see if the parade is still going?" I asked.

I'm pretty sure Civi will enjoy these breakfast pictures - yet I did not yet feel that I had gotten my special picture just for him.

I wanted that picture to speak of America and the idea of freedom, which at times we speak always of how free we are enjoy more than we do at other times. Indeed, I would say that in starting out this little venture, Abby and Andy are acting in the best spirit of the freedom we Americans seek and boast of

Even so, and although I am pretty certain Civi will be impressed by this family and what they have, I still felt that the the special American Fourth of July freedom picture that I wanted to take just for him had not yet appeared before my camera. Maybe I would take it at the parade.

I will post something from the parade within the next hour or so and you can see if I succeeded.

And don't anyone worry - Metro Cafe will always be the coffee shop where I go every afternoon when I am in Wasilla and sometimes mornings too.

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We will begin our Fourth by being among the first to eat breakfast at the brand new rerstaurant, Abby's Home Cooking

The other night, I pedaled my bike eight miles down from my house to pass by the Mahoney Ranch. "Hey Bill!" Mahoney horse Stoney shouted at me as I passed by, "what do you plan to do for breakfast on the morning of July 4?"

"Hadn't really thought about it," I shouted back. "I'll probably just cook some oatmeal, with berries and walnuts. Why? What does a horse care about what I do for breakfast July 4?"

"Bill!" Stoney  the horse shouted back. "Oats are for horses! Leave the damned oats alone! On the morning of the Fourth, you must do breakfast at Abby's Home Cooking! Corner of Church and Seldon - right where Fat Boys Fattery used to be. Abby's opens at 9:00 AM, July 4, for the first time, and I want you to be there. Take your family and order breakfast. I am not asking. I am ordering. You be there. You will be glad I demanded this of you."

"Abby's?" I said.

"Yes, Abby's!" the Mahoney horse answered.

"Okay." I said.

"Okay then," the horse neighed with approval as Mahoney horse Jake stepped into the picture. Stoney then turned his attention to the succulent grass of the Mahoney Ranch and with just one swish of his tail killed 52 mosquitoes.

This is the Abby that the horse referred to and that's her new restaurant behind her. Her name is Abby Hammond now, and she is opening the restaurant with her husband Andy, but she grew up as Abby Mahoney and that is why the horse so concerned itself about where, as soon as I post this, I will take Margie, Kalib and Jobe and eat breakfast today. 

The Mahoney horses look out for their people.

This is Abby and Jeremy. The stool was made from local, wildfire-killed spruce by Abby's nephew, Joe Mahoney. 

This wood used to be the siding of a barn into which horses could take shelter from the wind.

This is Abby's son, Justin, who made the tables for the restaurant.

This is Justin with his friends Andrew O'Brien and J.D McCullum, making a toast for success with tea, coffee and an empty flower vase.

I could write much more, but I see it is 9:00 AM right now. I am hungry. I must post this blog and get over there.

But first, late last night, thinking about Abby and her little venture, I again pedaled my bike down to the Mahoney Ranch and paid a short visit to Grotto Iona, built as a place of prayer by Paul George Mahoney, the patriarch of the Mahoney Clan, in honor and memory of his wife, Iona.

I felt quiet and peaceful there, as it always has whenever I have stopped by.

As I pedaled home from the Mahoney Ranch, I saw this guy, riding his horse down a trail upon which I used to often ski. I would just take off from my back porch and go, but now there are subdivisions in the way and I have not skied since I lost my shoulder and got a new one.

This coming winter, I must remedy that.

Now, I will exercise the freedom that we celebrate this day and will take Margie, Kalib and Jobe to breakfast at Abby's Cafe.

Happy Fourth of July, America!

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I bike to Church, go on to Sunrise, see a four-wheeler through a pipe and am told a search is under way; Fat Boy's is gone, Sicily's is here

My modem went on the blink and ceased to blink, so, if I wanted to keep blogging, I had to take it back to GCI and trade it in for a new one. As I pulled out of the driveway to go and do so, I saw Kalib in the back of Caleb's truck. Caleb was nearby, keeping an eye on him.

After I swapped out the modem, I returned toward home along the edge of Wasilla Lake and shot a few blind frames. By "blind frames" I mean that I pointed my camera through the window and without looking in that direction myself, fired off a few frames, letting fate and serendipity choose the subjects and the composition.

Just a few weeks ago, Wasilla Lake was still coated in ice.

Now look at it. It has once again become:

"Wasilla Malibu."

I should do a series of studies of Wasilla Malibu throughout the summer - even though I don't expect to be here that much this summer. Still, I will shoot what studies I can, beginning with this one, which I shall title:

Wasilla Malibu Study #204: The red fire hydrant and the sunburnt boy.

Next I went to the Post Office. After I came out, I got into the car and started to drive away, but I saw the broader-faced of these two dogs. I braked to a stop, backed up, parked poorly, jumped out, scurried over and told the lady and the man kept by the canines that I would like to photograph the dog and then the other dog appeared and so I amended that to, "I would like to photograph your dogs."

So I did. I didn't learn much about the dogs, because, as I have already stated, I was parked poorly and needed to move my car before the wrong person came along, took offense, and shot me. I did learn that both dogs had just been groomed. They had been wearing heavy winter coats but now they were ready for summer.

I also learned their names, one was Sammy and the other was... the other was... the dog's name was...

Oh, good grief! I have forgotten!

This is terrible.

Not only that, I can't even remember which dog is Sammy and which is the other dog. 

But one of them is Sammy and whichever one he is, he is a mighty beautiful and fine looking dog and his temperament is pleasant.

Next I took a bike ride, my longest one so far this season. Here I am, headed down Church Road.

Here I am, about three or four miles further along, on Sunrise. A man and a boy pass by me on a fourwheeler and wave. I want to wave back, but worry that I might crash if I do because I am already pedaling and photographing and talking on my iPhone while surfing the web and to add one more element might just be too much.

So instead I nod my head and shout "hi!" hoping they can hear over the engine and wind noise.

Actually, I was not talking on my cell phone - or surfing the web. My iPhone was in my pocket. I just made that up to add a little bit of drama to the moment.

Our paths intersected again a little further down Sunrise, by the Mahoney Ranch, where the road has been torn up so that some new drainage pipes can be dropped in beneath it.

Turns out it was Dustin and his son. Dustin grew up just up the road. We talked a bit and he spoke about how wonderful it was to grow up here and I commented that he must have seen a lot of change and development and it must frustrate him a bit and he said, oh yeah, he had witnessed incredible growth and change and it was frustrating.

I was nodding away in awe at all the change he must have witnessed growing up here his whole life, especially considering all the change I had seen even though I grew up elsewhere and have only lived here a short time when suddenly it struck me that my short time living in Wasilla is getting close to 30 years and Dustin looks pretty young so I have probably been here longer than he has and have seen even more change.

As we were talking, a car stopped and a young Mahoney got out and then prepared to ride away on a bike. He said the people who had just dropped him off had told him that a two year-old child had wandered off and got lost at the s-curve, maybe a bit over a mile up the road. A search was underway and he was going to go help.

One never wants to hear or believe such news, but these things happen. It puzzled me a bit, though, because I had already pedaled through the s-curve and had seen no one. I knew that if a search had been going on there, there would have been people and emergency vehicles at that curve.

Maybe I had pedaled through before the search began. I did not think so, though. I thought perhaps he had received some inaccurate information. I hoped so.

The young man pedaled away.

I then took a picture of Dustin and his son through the new culvert pipe.

Then they turned around and headed off. I resituated myself on my bike and pedaled off in the same direction. I soon realized that they were going pretty slow and it would be an easy thing to catch them and then shoot a few frames as I pedaled alongside them.

So that is what I did. The Mahoney horses were in the field on the other side and I had planned to shoot a few pictures of them on the way back, but by the time I had shot my final frame of Dustin and son, I had passed the horses.

At that point, all I could think about was the story about the two-year old. I did not want it to be true. I did not think it was true. But I had to find out. If it was true, then I would have to do my part to help.

I could not leave with a two-year old child wandering in the woods, or being downstream in the frigid waters of the Little Su.

I pedaled on, toward the s-curve. Soon the Mahoney kid came into view, returning home. He said there was no one at the s-curve, no sign of any kind of search at all. The information he received must have been bad, he said.

Relieved, I pedaled on. As I reached the s-curve, an airplane passed overhead.

In time, I reached Seldon, which not so long ago became the Mat-Su Veterans Highway. It is hard to think of Seldon Street being considered a highway, but if it is a highway, then it is appropriate to name it for the veterans.

I took this picture right by Fat Boy's pizza. Unfortunately, Fat Boy's has gone out of business. It was said that he would reopen in a busier part of town in May, but he did not. I hope he yet does.

Now, there was a sign in the window that said, "Abby's Home Cooking, opening soon."

I wonder if Abby will serve breakfast? What will her hash browns be like?

Will she steal me away from the Family Restuarants? It would be an easy and good thing to leave the car behind and get on my bike in the morning and peddle the mile-and-a-half to Cora's.

When I got home, the house was chaotic. Jobe and Kalib were having a blast. It was after 7:00 PM. All the dishes were dirty, no one wanted to cook and dirty more dishes and anyway I now had pizza locked into my brain. So I ordered pizza from Sicily's, the place on the Parks Highway just past Church Road that I only discovered while driving home from Fairbanks May 15, following the honoring of Katie John.

They deliver, but the lady on the phone said it would take 45 to 55 minutes but the pizza would be ready in 15, if I were to pick it up.

So I picked it up. On the way home, I saw this dog.

I am very sad to have lost Fat Boy's, but glad to have discovered Sicily's.

It was very good pizza.

I ate too much, though, and then, to compensate, I had watermelon and cantaloupe afterwards.

After the gorge, I found Kalib and Caleb playing in the guest room. "Uncle!" Kalib would say. "Nephew!" Caleb would answer. Then they would reach out their hands and touch.

Jobe finished the day with some milk and then went to bed. Just as he is no longer sleeping in his cradle board, he no longer dines on mother's milk. 

Lavina had two goals in mind when she breast fed Jobe for over a year - the first was to provide him the healthiest diet possible, the second to give Jake and her a natural form of birth control.

It will soon be evident just how successful that part of the plan proved to be.

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