Meagre berry picking expedition leads to magic moment between toddler, cat and the clouds

Melanie and Charlie came to visit Sunday and as we took a little ride, we drank coffee, listened to All Things Considered and then This American Life. Afterwards, I returned to my office, sat down and worked for a couple of hours on a project that has been vexing me. 

When I stepped back in the living room, Lavina had prepared dinner, but Melanie, Charlie and Royce were nowhere to be seen. "They went into the swamp to pick berries," Margie said from her position on the couch. So I ate my chicken and salad, grabbed my G10 pocket camera and then went out to see if I could find them.

I did, as you should be able to tell, even without me saying so.

They were about done but they had not done well, so Melanie tried another place, where she spotted a few. She had barely begun to pluck them when she swatted her face. Must have been a mosquito, but the mosquitoes are just about all gone now. 

Just a short time ago, one could barely have tolerated being where she is in this picture, because the mosquitoes would have been maddening. But their season is over, thank goodness.

As you can see, the berry picking was not good at all. Melanie figured it is because the swamp has pretty much dried. "Back when it was wet, there were a lot more berries," she lamented. You cannot even rightfully call it a swamp anymore. She wondered if the house wells were responsible. I don't think so.

Quite some time ago, some developers tore out the wettest end of the swamp and made a gravel pit out of it. The developers said that after they had taken the gravel they would make a nice lake of it for the whole neighborhood to enjoy, but, as developers so often do, they didn't. Now it is just an ugly, abandoned, gravel pit with some ugly pools of water in it. I think that is what dried up the marsh.

I knew that there was another reason Melanie and Charlie had found so few berries. For two days in row now, Jacob and Kalib have been out there picking and eating berries as though they were about to go out of season.

Speaking of those two, we heard some commotion so we looked, and here they came. With Muzzy.

Kalib left his Dad's shoulders so that he could pal around with Muzzy and Royce.

And then it was just Kalib, Royce, and grass going to seed.

 

Royce soon led Kalib to another spot, where they found an even taller blade of grass.

Kalib studies the grass.

And then he lays down upon Royce.

He soon spots an interesting cloud, and points it out. The cat does not care, but he cares about Kalib.

I think, perhaps, this was one of those magic moments of early childhood that, even if it may one day be forgotten, it will be felt for the remainder of Kalib's life, even when he is an old man.

Kalib, his head on the fur of a warm, tolerant, and loving cat, watching clouds drift through a clear, deep blue sky. Yes, this is a fleeting moment that is ever lasting.

And so passed this day, right here in Wasilla, Alaska.

Margie chuckles when Melanie and Lisa show her Palin on Comedy Central

Melanie and Lisa came out today, did some grocery shopping and then cooked dinner for their mom (I ate it, too!). Afterwards, because there is no TV in this room and in the summer time I just don't watch TV or even think about it, they decided it was up to them to catch Margie up on some of the news that has happened since she fell.

So they borrowed my laptop, pulled up The Daily Show with Jon Stewart and the Colbert Report. They all watched the coverage on the speech our fellow Wasillan and former governor made last Sunday, when she quit and turned the governorship over to Sean Parnell.

Margie actually chuckled. It was the closest thing to a laugh that I have heard come from her since she injured herself. It was good to hear. Thank you, ex-Governor Palin, for bringing a little humor to my wife at this trying moment in her life.

Oh yes - and they also brought her a real sunflower, which went into a vase alongside a bouquet of artificial ones.

Catch-up #3: Margie's latest injury - how it happened

The day began well. You will recall that I had stated that I wanted to sleep ten, 20, perhaps even 40 years, with Margie at my side. As it turned out, I only slept for about six hours, but it was a pleasant six hours, there, in bed, with my wife snoozing soundly beside me, Jimmy, the black cat, curled atop my shoulder and Pistol-Yero, the tabby, coiled up alongside my ankles.

After I arose, I still felt extremely tired, because one cannot push himself for as long and hard as I have done, sleeping as little as I have slept, even going 40 hard, physical hours with no sleep at all, with no catch up, and then recover with six hours of sleep - no matter how pleasant that six hours might have been.

But I was not worried. I had not taken a day off since June 13 - when  Melanie and I took our little hike up in Hatcher's Pass - but I figured that I would now take two or three days off and I would nap, rest, walk and bike ride at will.

So I got out of bed, looking forward to a pleasant day, and went into the living room where I found the expectant mom, Lavina, looking quite pleasant and cozy herself, cuddled up on the couch with two cats and her iPhone.

Back in Anchorage, Melanie was about to close a purchase on a house with a basement apartment. Margie wanted to go in and help her move. I wanted to do nothing but lay around and be lazy, but she assured me that I could lay around and be lazy at Melanie's new place and watch everyone else do the work.

I did not believe this, but I decided to go in, anyway.

I regret that decision. If I had stayed home, I doubt that Margie would have taken her fall. It is not that anything that I did directly caused her to fall, but by going to town, I created a different dynamic for the day then if I had stayed home. 

Had I stayed put, Margie would have arrived on the scene a few minutes later than she did, for I drive faster then she does. The jackets that she carried down the steps would have already been taken down. They would not have blocked her vision. She would not have missed that extra step just after the turn out of the stairwell. She would not have fallen.

I do not blame myself; I just wish that I had stayed home to be lazy. Then everything would have turned out differently.

True, there is a tiny possibility that things would have turned out even worse - say, for example, that Margie might have collided with a big moose in a terrible crash with a much worse outcome, but this is a remote possibility and I do not believe it would have happened that way.

I think she would now be healthy and happy, rather than in misery and pain.

But I did climb into the Escape with her, I did take the wheel and I did drive toward Anchorage. Even before we left Wasilla, a freight train came rolling by, headed towards Fairbanks.

I was thrilled to see it and shot a frame of the engine as it rolled past.

Not long afterward, the caboose rolled past, too. I could not allow such a momentous event to pass by unphotographed.

After we drove into Anchorage, we headed toward the Duck Downs apartment that Melanie would soon vacate, but less than a block before we would have arrived, we came upon Melanie and Charlie driving away in his pickup truck. So we followed them to the house. I was amazed to see it, for it was much bigger and appeared to be nicer than I had expected.

The people that she was buying the house from had not yet moved out of the top floor and so she and Charlie planned to carry the few things that they had loaded into the back of the truck down into the basement apartment. They would then wait until another day to do anymore moving.

I explored the apartment, determined that if I go bankrupt and lose this house (a continual worry of mine for the past 27 years - and always with considerable justification, especially right now) that it would suffice until I could publish a best-seller and put us back in the black.

I then climbed back up to see what I could carry down and, as I approached the truck, saw Margie carrying some jackets. That was all she intended to carry down.

I grabbed a couple of pairs of cross-country skis and then headed back toward the house. As I neared the top of the stairwell, I heard Margie shriek. Then I heard her cry in that desperate, painful, pitiful way that she had when she had fallen in the street in Washington, DC.

"Dad!" Melanie, who was with her, called from the lower doorway. "Come quick! Mom's hurt!"

I found her lying on her tummy, crying, and screaming out in pain.

We talked, she calmed down, rolled onto her back. She then decided that, although it hurt, she was okay and just needed a few minutes to pull herself together. She pulled her right knee up and then tried to do the same with her left.

This caused her to scream once again. She could not bend that knee.

I knew then that we had to get her to the emergency room.

It was a struggle, accompanied by much screaming, but we raised her from the floor. Charlie then picked her up and carried her in his arms up the stairs and to the car.

As we tried to figure out how to get her into the car, Jane, the woman who Melanie is buying the house from, showed up with a wide strap of webbing and announced that she was a physical therapist and has a great deal of experience hoisting hurt people about.

So she put the strap around Margie's waist. I went to the other side to help pull her up from the driver's side as Jane and Charlie hoisted her into the front passenger seat.

Melanie came with us as I drove Margie to the emergency room at the Alaska Native Medical Center. Lisa met us there. Eventually, we got Margie into a wheelchair and then inside, where she was sent to X-ray.

We were relieved to learn that she had not rebroken her kneecap fracture from January. My first thought was that this meant that she would be fine - just sore for awhile - but I was wrong.

Denise, the physicians assistant who examined her, told us that, judging from the extreme pain Margie was suffering, there must be ligament damage. An x-ray cannot look at ligaments. It would take a CAT scan. Before this could happen, she wanted Margie to go home and get some bed rest for about one week to give the inflammation that had caused her knee to swell to watermelon size to subside a bit and her pain to ease.

She expected Margie to be laid up for a total of about six weeks.

Denise examines Margie's leg.

Margie in excruciating pain. To help her deal with it, Denise asked what kind of pain killers Margie had been prescribed for her original knee injury. Our minds went blank, so she started reading off a list of pain meds, until she came to Tylenol-Codeine. 

We both remembered Margie taking those, so that is what she prescribed. What we had forgotten is that this came later - hydro-codeine, a more powerful painkiller, was what had come first.

As it would turn out, Margie would need all the pain-killer power she could get. She was also prescribed Motrin, to help reduce the inflammation.

We picked up the drugs from the pharmacy and then left, Melanie riding with us, Lisa following. Margie could not take her drugs until she ate something, so we stopped at the Taco Bell on Muldoon and placed an order for a bean burrito.

As we progressed through the drive-through toward the bean burrito (and a few things for me, as well), I looked in the mirror and saw this little dog behind us.

As for what lay ahead, well, hell. That's what is has been - hell. 

I must say that the US Indian Health Service and the Alaska Native Medical Center has been of great benefit to this family over the decades. Great benefit. They have my gratitude.

I trust that in this case, they will yet prove to be of great benefit, but as to what was about to come, they failed my Margie. If their job is simply to read what is written down on paper and follow procedure, then they succeeded.

But if their job is to look at a real, injured, human being and then do all that they possibly can to minimize the pain and suffering of that individual, then they failed miserably - and it is Margie who has had to bear the misery.

On Father's Day, the mast snapped and then we ate at Bombay Valley

Rex called from Anchorage to announce that, for father's day, he would bring his sailboat out - the very same sailboat that launched this blog. A brisk wind blew, so he planned to drive straight to Memory Lake, give me a call from there and launch. 

Then I could come and he would take me on a little ride around the lake. Next, Melanie called to say that she was on her way out and Lisa would be leaving Anchorage a bit after she did.

So Melanie arrived with Charlie and we decided to go get a coffee. Rex called immediately after the decision, and said he would soon launch and to bring him a coffee, too.

Finally, we arrived at Memory Lake. Rex and his boat were a tiny dot on the other side of the lake, but no sail could be seen.

A man sat on the shore, fishing, and told us that Rex had really caught the wind and had been sailing fast, when suddenly his mast broke. Rex then called to report that he could not make any headway trying to paddle against the wind, so he was just going to let it blow him to the west end of the lake. We could pick him up there.

So, off we went. None of us had ever driven to the west end and we did not know how to get there. Melanie pulled up a map on her iphone, put in our GPS location and then navigated.

She got us there, but it was private property.

Still, Rex needed to be picked up so we picked him up.

Back at the house, a bit tired, slightly discouraged but not at all daunted, Rex uses Muzzy for a footrest. I hope to have some free time in August. I will be lucky if I can take even a single day off between now and then - maybe by late July.

But if I succeed at my goal, then we can go sailing in August. Out on the high seas. In gale force winds. The mast will be reinforced then. It will be great fun. Maybe we will wind up in China. I have long wanted to visit China.

We could wind up in Russia, but I've already been there.

Stark and harsh though it was, I liked it, but I would rather go to China this time.

Thus followed a great debate about what the kids should do for me for Father's Day.

In the end, we decided to go out for dinner at Bombay Valley Indian Food Restaurant. It is kind of amazing that there is an Indian food restaurant in Wasilla, but there is.

The food was really, really, hot - hotter than anything I had in India.

It was good, though. Very good. 

Yet, still, when the taste of Vasanthi's excellent cooking still lingers... along with the master chef's that catered Soundarya's wedding... and the other great cooks that we had, including Sandy herself, who cooked our very last meal in India...

It would just be unfair to compare, so I will just say Bombay Valley is quite good and, if you can't get to India, I would recommend it.

And my food was free, because I'm a dad, and at Bombay Valley, dads ate free today.

Melanie and I take a small hike, frolic in the ash and take pictures of each other

Melanie takes my picture as I take her's. We are a bit above the old Independence Mine in the Hatcher Pass area, and a bit below Goldcord Lake. 

I had not planned to take a hike today, but this morning I found an email from Melanie. " What are you doing today? Considered going out today. Any time for a small hike?"

"Sure!" I responded. "I'll hike with you!" It would be my first hike since I broke my shoulder and got it replaced. I first went into surgery one year ago today.

So she drove out from Anchorage, transferred to the Escape and then we drove the wrong way into the most congested part of Wasilla so that I could drop off an electrical payment. We then turned around but drove less than a block before we saw these kids trying to entice us into a car wash.

I do not know what their cause was, but I am certain it is good, and the Escape was dirty, but it was raining and we had a small hike to do. We did not let them wash the car.

We were not quite certain where we would go, but decided that it would be somewhere in the Hatcher Pass area. We ruled Gold Mint trail out and then went up to Archangel Road which leads to the Reed Lake Trail but Archangel was blocked off, so we drove up to the mine, parked, and wound up on the trail to Goldcord Lake.

It is a short trail, just right for a small hike. So off we went. As we neared the "historic Lynch" sod cabin, built in 1930, Melanie stopped to examine various plants. She did not pick, but just examined.

We did step into the cabin, but it was obvious that people had been peeing in there, so we did not linger.

I decided that I never want to sleep in that cabin.

We did not see anyone as we hiked up, even though it was a Saturday, and I hoped it would remain that way once we reached Goldcord Lake, so that we could have perfect solitude.

Melanie looks at Goldcord Lake.

We did meet another human being. This lady. She had a friend with her, who we also met. I would tell you their names, but they were a bit wary and so kept their names to themselves.

They did tell us that they were scouting about for a good place to take some geology students from Alaska Pacific University on a field trip. They looked to me to be too young to be teachers, so I asked if they were students, thinking perhaps they were teacher assistants. No, they were not students, they assured us and they gave us no more information than that.

Maybe they are teachers. Professors even. As I get older, young people look younger and younger, so someone could be a teacher and even a professor and look the part to their peers and I could still think they were so young that they must be students.

They had seen some marmots and they were pretty pleased by that.

I told them how to find this blog.

I do not know if either of you will ever bother to do so, but, if you do, "hello." I enjoyed meeting you. It's true that I had hoped Melanie and I would see no one else, but you were both pleasant, even if wary. You made the experience a little nicer and more interesting than it would have been had we not met you.

If I were you and met me up in the mountains, I would probably be wary, too - even though you needn't have been.

There was a news story in the paper last week about how unusually fast the snow is melting off the mountain trails this year and there are two reasons for that. Although today was not one of them, we have had an abnormally big number of sunny, hot, days.

And Mt. Redoubt deposited so much volcanic ash in the mountains. That ash is dark, so it absorbs heat that the snow would otherwise reflect away. The heated ash swiftly melts the snow.

Despite how it looks in the distance, this is how all the snow that is left looks up close. It is covered with ash and here the paw of a dog broke through it.

See that line? That is volcanic ash left behind after the snow that pushed it there melted. It leads to an even greater concentration of ash and Melanie is mining it.

Melanie with her haul of volcanic ash. She will take it home and give it to Charlie. 

We hike along the lake. It is very steep here and Melanie speculates as to what would happen if one of us slipped and went down into the water. I am very confident such a thing will not happen.

Melanie, a little further along.

Melanie, over the lake.

Afterward, not far beyond where the road exits the canyon that leads up to Hatcher Pass, we stopped at a little restaurant sporting signs that boast of its chowder and espresso. We were the only the customers, so I was a little worried about the owners. I always like to see little businesses like this make it.

The guy told us not to worry. He said he was going to have some music festivals here and lots of people would come.

Melanie then noted that her boyfriend is a guitarist, plays with a band and might want to come and join in. So the man asked what kind of music Charlie played.

"Mostly classic rock," Melanie responded.

"So he plays all classical music?" the man responded, looking a little worried.

"Classic Rock!" Melanie stressed. She then added that Charlie also composes music of his own.

I then told the guy how Charlie even composed a song to Melanie, where he scolds her for trying to get a cat out of a tree, when that is the job of the fire department.

He was mighty impressed by that. I have no doubt that he will now do whatever is necessary to make certain that Charlie is there to play at all of his festivals.

It's a good song. I like it a lot.

That's a brownie that Melanie holds in her hand. I ordered a piece of strawberry rhubard pie, alamode.

It was pretty good. So was Melanie's brownie. We shared, that's how I know.

PS: There's still lots more from India left to come.