Three of us make a very quick trip to the Iditarod restart in Willow, then hang out with cats; how Charlie fared in the beard contest

If you are looking for lots of good pictures from the Iditarod Restart, this is not the site to come to. I awoke this morning feeling completely exhausted, run down, as though I had not slept at all. I had a terrible headache, a bit of a sore throat and I felt just plain weary - barely enough energy to drag myself into the kitchen and cook some oatmeal.

I figured, though, that if Jacob and Lavina brought Jobe by for Margie to watch and then took off with Kalib to watch the dogs go, I would follow, but I would be very lazy and shoot just a few so-so pictures, just to say we were there.

After all, there would be scores of photographers seriously documenting the event for all sorts of publications, many would go on to follow the race and they would be working extremely hard and putting everything they have into it to get the best shots possible, so, really, what could I add to the mix?

I would just stick with Jacob, Lavina and Kalib, get a few lazy pictures and let it go at that.

A little after noon, Lavina called to say that they would not be coming at all. It would be nearly a 200 mile round trip for them, they were very tired (after all, they do have a newborn) and Kalib seemed to be coming down with something.

OK, then, I decided, I would just stay home.

Then Melanie called. She and Charlie wanted to see Lance Mackey take off. He wore bib 49, and was scheduled to leave the chute at 3:30.

Okay, I decided, I would go with them, but would still be lazy.

Melanie had to drop her car off at Mr. Lube here is Wasilla to get an oil change, so they would ride with me. Mr. Lube closes at 5:00, so she had to be back before then to get her car.

We left Wasilla for Willow at 2:20, twenty minutes after the race had already begun, reasoning that we had better head back home no later than 4:15 in order to get back in time.

We managed to find a parking place not far from the action, but wound up trudging through deep snow the long way around, so it took us awhile to reach the raceway. We got there just about the time that the 40th musher was charging down the chute behind his dogs.

This is musher 41. Dallas Seavey. In 2007, the day after this former state wrestling champion turned 18, he became the youngest musher ever to run the Iditarod.

These are the famous white dogs of number 43, Jim Lanier of Chugiak.

This is number 49, Iditarod Hall of Famer Lance Mackey, who Melanie wanted to watch depart. Mackey may be the toughest long-distance musher ever, having come back from a deadly battle with cancer to take multiple victories in the Yukon Quest and the Iditarod and winning both in 2008 and 2009.

You can find a bit more of his story here.

Pretty soon, we had to go. Traffic was sometimes very slow, but we got Melanie back to Mr. Lube with 13 minutes to spare.

Then Melanie and Charlie came to the house for dinner, and to hang out with our cats. Here is Charlie with Royce and Jim.

Charlie, Royce and Jim.

Charlie and Jim.

Melanie and Royce. Before they left, Melanie was trying to write a check out for me to cover Royce's upcoming vet care but I was being elusive. So she wrote it out and gave it to her mom.

Charlie and Royce.

Chicago and me.

Now, as to that beard contest...

I am too tired to tell the whole story, but, to make it short, there was some confusion about which category Charlie was to enter. He wound up competing against men who had at least some gray and white in their beards and they beat him.

That's because it was the category for men with gray and white in their beards, although it was described as being for men with multiple colors in their beard. Charlie has brown, red and blond in his beard, so he thought that meant him.

Afterwards, he learned that he should have been in the "Honey Bear" category. Two judges told him that they really liked his beard - if only he had been a Honey Bear.

He is thinking about going to the nationals in Bend, Oregon, in June, where the categories are more clearly delineated.

I will probably be blogging light for the next few days - maybe all week. I've got a lot of work to do and I feel like... heck.

(I was going to say, "hell," but once again I remembered that ten-year old girl who I am told reads my blog everyday.)

It was a Kalib-Jobe kind of day and it began at IHOP

I had a big day of work planned when I started to come to this morning, but Margie told me that Lavina had called and she was coming out with Kalib and Jobe. Lavina hadn't eaten, was hungry and wanted to meet us for breakfast at IHOP.

So I took a shower and then off we went to IHOP. We had not been there long before Kalib decided that the table was rather bland and so began to shake salt and pepper all over it.

His mom put a stop to it.

Kalib could have tripped the waitress and caused her to spill coffee and Pepsi all over the floor, but he didn't. Despite his mischievous, rambunctious nature, he must be a good boy, or else he certainly would have.

Jobe was with us at breakfast, too, but you couldn't see him because he was in his car seat and there was a blanket draped over it. Right after we entered the house, Lavina removed the blanket.

Royce observed. Wouldn't it be nice if Royce could raise another baby, just like he raised Kalib?

Momma and son. Do you think they have a connection?

Gramma and grandson. Do you think she loves him?

Margie bestows love on two grandsons at once. Caleb studies Jobe to see if maybe he has grown enough to begin to learn how to golf.

Caleb decides that, indeed, Jobe is ready to begin learning the fundamentals of golf. At the fundamentalist level of golf is a golf ball.

"Golfball," Caleb coaches. He documents the moment on his iPhone so that the technique with which Jobe observed the ball can be reviewed later.

Thanks to Uncle Caleb, Kalib already knows about a golfball and about clubs, too. He grabs a club and then his uncle hands him a ball.

Kalib studies the lay of the rug in preparation to make putt. Trouble is, he doesn't know where the hole is. He doesn't care. He will putt anyway.

Kalib raps the ball.

After scoring 18 holes in one, Kalib spots his mom outside, coming into the house. I don't know what she was doing out there, but whatever it was, I'm certain she succeeded at it.

A bit later, when I was working in my office, Kalib came out and wanted to feed my fish. I gave him a fish pellet and he ate it, then smiled mischievously.

Now grandma has Jobe again.

She looks into his little mouth and sees that there are no teeth in there, yet. That's good. It could be pretty tough on Lavina if there were.

Jobe goes down for a nap in the buckskin cradle board that his Aunt LeeAnn made for him.

He dozes to the soothing strains of Haydn, played on a classical cable station.

Kalib, by the window, eating a oatmeal chocolate chip cookie that Margie or Lavina or maybe both made while I was out mailing a package.

Kalib stands by his mom as she feeds his little brother. Lavina is very modest about such matters.

I could not believe it. Come evening, they left. I did get some work done today, but not as much as I had planned to. Of course, even when I work all day and all night, I never get as much done as I plan to.

This is Iditarod weekend. Lavina wants to watch dogs pull sleds tomorrow, but needs someone to babysit Jobe. Margie wants to hang out with Jobe.

How convenient.

You'll be seeing everybody again tomorrow.

A black cat is sprawled across my chest and has been for every word of this post. Somtimes, he touches the tip of my nose with his. His nose is wet and cold, as it should be.

He could pull a sled in the Iditarod if he wanted to, but he doesn't want to. He prefers to stay home and be warm.

The mean dog, revisited; nice dog; two good cats; I step into the house to find Palin, Leno, Romney and Letterman drawing laughs on TV

This is the dog that I mentioned back in January; the one named Angel, the one whose woman says she is a real sweatheart who would bite no one, yet she has bitten me. I don't begrudge Angel; she thought she was doing a good thing and maybe she was.

As I stated in January, she is seldom out but when she is, it is always a memorable experience.

This is one of those nights when I simply do not have it in me to make a real post. So, since I had mentioned this dog recently, I went back into my archives and pulled her out. Perhaps some readers have seen Angel before, but it was a year-and-a-half ago when I originally put her in here and I didn't have very many readers then (as if I have  huge amounts now), so for those who have never met Angel before, I thought I would give you a treat.

Angel. The sweetheart.

Today, in the very same spot, I came upon this dog, who may possibly live in the same house with Angel. I am not certain. This dog is very friendly. It is the same dog that was carrying the stuffed turtle and almost got run over in front of me.

And here is Chicago and Royce, good cats both. When Chicago climbs on my lap or cuddles up alongside me and I put my hand on her, I feel healthy, warm, flesh beneath her fur. When I put my hands upon Royce or pick him up, I can feel the details of his bones.

He takes his medicine every day. His appetite remains good. He does not lack for energy.

I, however, do. 

So goodnight.

Wait! Wait! Not yet!

Immediately after I finished the above, I got up from my computer, left this office, stepped into the house and found Margie watching TV... The Tonight Show, with Jay Leno.

See? It's Margie watching Leno on TV - but who is that there with him...?

Why, It's my fellow Wasillan, Sarah Palin! 

I won't try to analyze this performance of Leno and Palin - there will be plenty of pundits and bloggers doing that. I will note that it was kind of a painful thing to watch and although I know Jay Leno is a gentle interviewer, his questions and comments seemed to have been written for him by Meg Stapleton - but no, she's not there anymore. So it must have been someone else.

And Palin did succeed in packing the audience with her people.

Going head to head with Leno and Palin was Letterman and Romney, who we watched during the commercial and then after Leno finished chatting with Palin.

The topic of health care came up and Romney said the way to go was not national, but that all 50 states should do as Massachusetts did when he was governor and create their own programs.

Letterman noted that among the world's nations, the US ranks somewhere way down in the low 30's in the quality of health care received by its citizens. Romney countered this by asking where the kings and queens of the world go when they are in bad need of health care? The US, he answered, as proof that this statement was false. He argued that we have the best health care in the world system.

Yes, if one is a king or a queen of a foreign country, then it is probably true the best health care they can get is in the US. The same is true for billionaires like Romney.

But how about some of us US citizens?

That care is not available to us, Mitt.

Kings and Queens, sure - but not us.

I may have more to say on this down the road a bit.

Dogs; Democrat; original Tea Party supporter with a new alternative monthly paper; cat snot on my lens

As I walked down Seldon, Dodd Shay pulled over to talk. He had a new pup riding with him. Dodd is the fellow who owns that part of the marsh where I most recently photographed two moose, property where certain sorts of snowmachiners and four-wheeler drivers ignore his "no trespassing" signs, charge in and tear up his property.

Dodd wanted to let me know that he plans to start going to Metro Cafe at 10:00 AM Thursdays and would like it if Democrats would come and join him for coffee and conversation.

Cars kept coming, so he pulled off Seldon onto Tamar and he and the pup, Scotty, got out of the car.

As we chatted, this car turned onto Tamar. The occupants were very taken by Scotty.

Scotty. Dodd and his wife Carol raise dogs that assist people with various needs. Dodd hopes that Scotty will become a breeder.

As they say, "lucky dog."

That's Jared on the left and his fiance on the right. She told me her name, too, but I forgot it before I could take it down. Jared showed both Dodd and I where he lives and said if we ever need any help with anything, just come knocking.

Someday, we may get a chance to talk more and maybe he will tell me about the tattoo. 

I was driving toward Metro Cafe at 4:00 o'clock when I spotted this dog ahead. The dog made no attempt to get out of the way of any cars, but just kept running in a straight path. Drivers honked their horns, but the dog just kept coming at them until they pulled to the right.

I slowed way down, because I did not know the dog would do.

Sure enough, just before I reached it, the dog changed lanes and then started running down the road, directly in front of me. It ran and it ran and it ran. I had to drive very slow. I only honked when there was no immediate traffic coming in the opposite direction, but my honks did not phase the dog.

Finally, it left the road and ran off.

I do not know where it was going and I don't think it, did, either.

I hope it reached its destination safely.

Longtime readers have probably observed that I come upon dogs in bad situations all too often. I can't judge, because I do not know the circumstance that resulted in this dog running down a busy road.

Through the Window Metro Study, #1961. That's Josh Fryfogle. He is "Editor and Writer" of a free monthly publication called Make-A- Scene: The People's Paper. He points at the paper's logo on his shirt. I must confess, I had never heard of Make-A- Scene before. He gave me a copy. It is newsprint on an 11 x 11.5 format. Part of what Josh does is to seek out valley stories on restaurants, businesses, and the great political stories of the day.

Inside the pages, I found three articles with Josh's byline: Jalepeno's - his account of dining at Jalepeno's, where I sometimes dine as well. He had praise for Jalepeno's and I would agree with that. The second was titled, Belly Dancing, and it described an adventure he had with his ten-year old son on a Saturday night at Bombay Valley restaurant. Although we haven't since last Father's Day, we sometimes eat at Bombay, but there have never been belly dancers.

Josh says they are going to be there every Saturday now, so I guess I will have to go see them.

He describes it as a pretty wholesome experience - oh well; I'll go check it out, anyway. One of these Saturday's. Maybe not this one. But perhaps.

We will see.

Tea Party Bait and Switch was the third story. I was going to suggest that if you want to read it, you could go the website, but I just went there and it is not yet up, although another of his stories, The Man-Made Religion of Climate Change is, so you can read that, if you want. Summarily stated, with a number of quotes from the University of East Anglia email scandal, Josh counters the contention of what some say is 98 percent of the research climatologists who think that we are in a potentially disastrous period of climate change brought on largely by man-made activities.

In Tea Party, as an early supporter of the movement and a man who waved signs for Ron Paul and waved at Sarah Palin as she drove past, Josh laments that the Tea Party is being co-opted by "the Neo-Conservatives who had previously taken over the Republican Party." He is pretty disgusted with both Democrats and Republicans and, while he once had hopes for Sarah Palin, is disappointed in her, too.

It would take too much space for me to try to sum up all that he said in the article, but I suspect it will show up on the website, soon. He does say, "I am ready for real revolution and, if need be, I am ready to invoke the Second Amendment! And I know I'm not the only one... 'Those who make peaceful revolution impossible will make violent revolution inevitable' - John F. Kennedy."

So there you have it - in the morning I come upon Dodd Shay who wants to start getting together with Democrats at Metro Cafe and in the afternoon, I meet Josh, Tea Party original, who is ready for revolution.

I wonder how such revolution would unfold here in this valley that Josh, Sarah Palin and I share with a whole bunch of others of many and varied political and religious belief? 

In this valley, most of us do own guns, be we left-wing, right-wing, middle-of-the-road, apathetic. It seems to me that we have all been exercising our second amendment rights all along, but what does it mean that the time might come that we need to "invoke" them? That we get to shoot each other, because we do not all see the world the same?

Is this what John F. Kennedy meant?

Be assured, Carmen is a good person and in running her cafe, she needs to keep her door open to everyone, liberal, conservative, left-wing, right-wing, extreme, moderate, mainstream, fringe.

Maybe some interesting discussions will take place inside. May such discussions always be peaceful and civil, even if some of the minds thus engaged are turbulent.

As I drove home in round-about fashion, I saw this girl running alongside the road.

I don't know if anyone overtly noticed, but each picture in this post has a soft, hazy, area. It's most pronounced when there is some backlight, such as in the picture of Jared and his fiance.

It's because of this guy, Pistol-Yero. I was trying to get a close-up of him when he touched my lens with his nose. I could not find any lens-cleaning cloth for a long time. Now I have found some, but I am not certain that I got it all. The tiny, recessed lens of this s90 pocket camera is very hard to clean.

I will always love Pistol, though, no matter how many cameras he messes up.

There's Royce, walking behind him. Royce is hanging tough.

The blond girl who checked me out, then engaged me in a discussion about politics and religion; the humiliation of bare grass in February; Royce

Margie drove into town to see Jobe and Kalib, but I could not go because I had too much work to do. So I had her drop me off at Mat-Su Valley Family Restaurant, which would leave me with a four-mile walk home, but that's good. I needed to walk four miles. Five would have been okay. In fact, I probably did walk five, because I did not take the most direct route.

As I ate my ham and eggs, a little girl from three tables up and across the aisle saw that the table in front of me was empty, so she came over to check me out.

Her name was Nona.

We discussed the fine points of politics and religion. We did not agree on everything, but it was a civil and friendly discussion, with each party showing complete respect for the other's point of view. It was a discussion that Senators and Preachers could learn from.

This is Nona's sister, whose name I did not get. She wanted to see Nona's picture. I showed it to her. She was very pleased.

Across the aisle, one table down. After I finished my breakfast I sat and sipped my coffee for about ten extra minutes, hoping that they would finish their breakfast so I could introduce myself, show them the picture and get their names, but they weren't even close to being done and I had things to do, so I left.

It is not supposed to look like this around here in mid-February. I don't like it at all. In fact, it is humiliating, but there is nothing that I can do about it.

This is Willie. I did not catch the names of his people, but they look really familiar to me.

That was yesterday. This is today, when a raven flew over my head.

I know some of you are very concerned with Royce. A couple of days ago, he vomitted clear stuff repeatedly, but has been fine ever since. At least as fine as a cat in decline can be expected to be.

By the way, I uploaded every single picture in this post and wrote every word with my good black-cat buddy Jim sprawled out across my chest, his rear legs resting upon my left forearm and his front on my right.

You might think that it would be very hard to manipulate a computer under such circumstance, but I have much practice behind me.

Now I hate to shut down and make Jim move, but I've got to go to bed.