Christmas Day: It's gone now, but I remain stuffed and full, blessed with wealth, even in tight times

The preparations had been going on for quite awhile by now, but I had not been ambitious enough to take a picture. After Margie baked these cookies, Charlie did some artistic decorating. Lisa was amused.

Out in the living room, the good black cat Jim stepped into the shadow to eat tinsel and study the gifts that waited under the tree.

Charlie takes a picture of his cookie artwork as Melanie, Lavina and Margie keep on cooking.

As I take a picture of Charlie's artwork, Jacob reaches in to begin destroying it.

Kalib is impatient and tugs at his mom. No, they did not stay here last night. They drove out in their pajamas.

Many gifts were given. Lavina gave Jacob a new electric razor.

I gave Lisa a framed picture of her buddy, Juniper.

Margie gave me the pig. I gave her the salt and pepper shakers. We were both very pleased.

And here is a camera that Margie and I gave to Rex. He is going to Seattle next week to hang out with his buddy and he will need to take some pictures.

Charlie with a little, cast-iron, bird that I gave him.

Caleb got some tires with snow studs for his bike.

Kalib opens up a gift from his Uncle Caleb. Uncle Caleb was born with a magnificent artistic talent, but he has never come around to harnessing it. A good uncle teaches his nephew, so maybe they can help each other.

Charlie blessed the food. It was an unconventional blessing, but he said he was glad to be part of this family. We are glad, too. I took no more dinner pictures after this, because I was too busy eating.

Kalib feeds turkey to his buddy, Royce.

Later, we came back to the table to eat pie and fruit goup.

As good as it was to be together, to exchange gifts and to eat, the day still came pierced by a huge hole. If it is a little hard to read at this size, the words on Rex's shirt say, "Table for one."

It is still a big and painful mystery to all of us why Stephanie up and walked out, but she did and there is nothing to be done about it. Rex has asked us all to think of her kindly and lovingly.

Rex left first, to go meet his buddy, Eddie, who now lives in Seattle but is also in Wasilla to visit his family.

I never stepped outside today. Just before they all left, I laid down upon the couch and was soon covered by a cat blanket. I normally step out onto the porch to wave goodbye to everybody as they leave, but I was too sleepy and these cats felt too good.

So, one by one, the departers came to the couch to give me a hug, then they all went out the door and drove away. I stayed put on the couch for a very long time.

Guess what? Kalib turns two December 26 - hey! That's today! - so, after we get some sleep, we will all gather together again.

Margie bakes Christmas cookies but there is no little boy here to eat them

Here is Royce, lying around listless, missing his buddy Kalib, who he has not seen for four days now. If you are a cat, four days is like two months or so.

We have not gotten into the Christmas spirit here at all. We have yet to send out a Christmas card and we have done no shopping. When the kids were all at home and growing, every year, well before this time, I would pick up the saw, we would head out the back door, hike across the marsh and then keep going to this certain place where there were many trees of just the right size, but, being Alaska trees, most of them were kind of thin and sparse in the branches - but we always knew that if we looked hard enough, we would find the right one. 

The kids would fan out and everybody would look for that special tree.

Once the candidates were chosen, we would gather around and compare and, amazingly enough, almost always everybody would agree on the same tree. Then we would cut it down and tromp back through the snow, everyone getting their turn at helping to carry the tree home.

One year, Royce followed us to and from. The snow was way too deep for him to wade through, but he would hop about in our footprints.

The experience seemed to please him greatly.

Then they made Serendipity and that ended that. In each year since, I have been amazed to find a suitable tree in our own backyard. Last year, I was certain there was not a single one left that would make a good Christmas tree, but Caleb found one right on the fringe, headed into the marsh.

It was the best Christmas tree that we had ever found, period.

Now, Margie is saying that this year she is just going to buy one.

I feel kind of bad about that, and I hate to see a Christmas tree go onto a credit card, but that's what happens in life, I guess.

Margie does want to get the Christmas spirit going here, so she decided to bake some sugar cookies. And look - there, jammed into the cabinet door above her - baby Kalib, in a picture that I took while he was still brand new.

And further over - a picture of Kalib on a book marker, courtesy of his day care center, and another of him and his buddy Lafe, when they were tiny (and yet, even when he was tiny, Lafe was large). You have not seen Lafe in this blog for awhile because he has moved out of state.

Margie with the first batch of cookies.

But there is no little boy here to eat them.

So Margie eats a Christmas tree cookie by herself. Above her hangs one of Kalib's earliest pieces of art. Perhaps his first piece of art. I am not certain. Certainly, his first piece of art to be framed and hanged.

There is a chance that we might see Kalib today. Jacob is home now. I know he is exhausted from his two weeks training in Washington, DC, but he is going to get lonesome for Muzzy pretty soon. He will have to come and get him and Martigne, too.

Maybe that will happen today.

Kalib golfs, vacuums, gets under the weather, goes to the doctor, reunites with Royce; Various and insundry Wasilla scenes

Ever since Kalib moved out, the house had been a quiet and empty place. After he returned, he resumed his golf game. This made life in the house much better.

And then he vacuumed the floor. It really needed it and we were grateful.

Kalib and his vacuum cleaner.

It was a foggy day. I took only a very short walk - not because of the fog, but because I left at 11:45 AM and I had a phone interview scheduled at noon.

I hated to take such a short walk. I guess I should have left earlier.

After I hung up the phone, I wanted out. Caleb was awake to watch Kalib, so I took Margie to lunch. Along the way, we passed by this guy walking the shore of Wasilla Lake.

Regularly readers will instantly recognize this as the intersection that provides an excellent view of Pioneer Peak above the maddening traffic of Wasilla's main thoroughfare. But you couldn't see the mountains today.

We ate our lunch in the car, as these ravens flirted with each other nearby.

As we ate, this was the view through the windshield. The tower rises out of the Wasilla Police Station. I was a little worried that someone might come running out of there, think we were someone else and try to arrest us, but no one did. 

The radio was on and a restaurant reviewer was talking from Cleveland. He had moved there from the East Coast, where he said he had been a food snob and had not expected to find any good food in the Midwest.

Boy, was he wrong, he said. The dining in Cleveland was the height of gourmet sophistication. Not even New York City could beat it.

I thought maybe I should start doing reviews on all the sophisticated, gourmet, dining to be had right here in Wasilla, Alaska. I could start here, in the parking lot alongside Taco Bell.

So... Taco Bell has a new item on the meno called a cheese roll, or something like that. It is a flour tortilla rolled around a glob of melted cheese. I bought one, tore it in half, gave half to Margie and ate the other myself.

"What do you think?" I asked Margie.

"It's okay," she said.

"I find it quite excellent myself," I told her. "Nice, sophisticated, piquant, gourmet taste."

She said nothing more at all.

I also had two original crunchy tacos. Indeed, they crunched very well and, after I squeezed a packet of mild and another of hot sauce into each one, had just the right touch of spice to add a decent kick to the meal.

I also had a bean burrito with green sauce.

These are superb when done right, but this one was too damn salty.

The Pepsi was just right - not too sweet but pleasantly carbonated, so that I could be assured of a little burp later, the flavor of which would remind me just how excellent the meal was - except for the bean burrito, which could have been better.

Back at the house, Margie sits with Kalib, who was once again feeling under the weather. While we had been out, Caleb had observed something that frightened him terribly, as Kalib seemed to be disoriented and frightened. Kalib had reached for Caleb where Caleb wasn't even standing. Margie called Lavina at work in Anchorage and she made a doctor appointment for Kalib here in Wasilla at 4:30, but we were advised to bring him in a bit early.

We left the house at 4:00, but stopped to go through the drive-through at Metro Cafe to get Americanos. No, I don't buy Latte's and Mochas everyday.

We continued on toward the doctor's office. As you can see, Pioneer Peak was now visible in the twilight sky.

Lavina had driven up from Anchorage and was already there to meet us.

The rest went inside, but, as I had much to do, I headed back here to my office, slightly worried but pretty confident that Kalib was okay. Lavina would bring them all home.

This is what the Talkeetna Mountains looked like as I drove home.

I passed by a fence decorated with large, candy canes wrapped in green and red lights.

Kalib was fine - but better to be safe. Here he is, reunited with his buddy, Royce.

I answer a knock upon the door to find two Mormon missionaries standing there, looking back at me; Kalib and Caleb; Breakfast at Family; Talkeetna alpenglow

I was in the bedroom, trying unsuccessfully to log onto an Apple help forum on my laptop, when I barely heard a knock upon the front door. Everyone else was gone, so I went to the door to find these two, Elder Smith of Nevada and Elder Wadsworth of Utah, standing there, looking back at me.

I was not interested in getting into any kind of religious discussion, but, having stood in their shoes, I have a great deal of empathy for these guys, who I know for a fact are really just young men, who want all the things that all young men want, like freedom and female companionship, but they can't have these things for awhile.

I also thought they might like to meet the cats. I invited them in. They posed with Royce.

Muzzy wanted to get into the picture.

He headed toward the missionaries, but this did not please them. In fact, it scared them. They did not think Muzzy was vicious. They thought he would mess their suits up. So I sent Muzzy to the garage.

Elder Smith, Martigny, Royce, Elder Wadsworth. 

Kalib and Caleb on the computer, where the missionaries sat not so long before.

I got up very late today. Very, very, late. It was necessary, though, because I had gotten up very early yesterday and had then worked until very late, not going to bed until about the time that many of the early risers among you were already yawning, stretching as you prepared to leap right out of bed.

How do you do that? How do you leap out of bed in the morning?

Margie had already eaten her oatmeal and so had Kalib, so I went to Family Restaurant by myself.

There was a man there who still reads the newspaper. Sometimes I do, too, but mostly I read it online. By the time the paper version reaches our house, I have usually already read everything in it that I am interested in.

I am part of the reason that newspapers are dying.

And the slow death of the newspapers makes my profession all that much more difficult. But new avenues are opening up. It's just a matter of figuring out how to go down them.

My waitress, who generally knows what I want before I order it. She is very good about not bringing my toast until I have eaten the rest of my breakfast.

As I paid my bill, this guy came walking by, aided by a walker. In my head, I saw how to make a good portrait of him and I decided to ask, but you see that little paper the lady at the cash register is taking hold of? That is the credit card statement that I have to sign.

I did not think the man would move that fast and I figured he was probably going to get in line behind me, anyway, so I sat my camera down, wrote in an extra two dollars for the tip, and signed the bill.

When I turned around, he was gone.

I wonder how he did that? I'm sure no one went out the door. I would have heard it.

I will see him again sometime, but he might not be wearing the "these colors don't run" shirt.

I was busy working away at 3:30 PM, absorbed in what I was doing, when I realized that I had not yet taken my walk. If if I didn't take it soon, it would be dark. So I took it. The sun had gone down, but alpenglow lingered upon the Talkeetnas.

A few days ago, one of my readers left a comment that said my blog makes her glad she doesn't live in Alaska.

I love living in Alaska! If I had to live anywhere else, I would damn near die.

The only thing that bothers me is that ever since I fell and got hurt 17 months ago, it has been one damn thing after another that has kept me from getting out and enjoying the country - except for a few work outings last summer on the Arctic Slope.

But I will get on top of things and I will take you out there and then you will see why I would not want to live anywhere else.

Except for Hawaii, maybe - but just for short periods at a time.

A school bus shoots down Seldon, the glow of the set sun behind it. Now the Talkeetnas are behind me. 

Catchup,* part 5: Margie nearly gets flattened by a rude mother in a truck with her two, beautiful, young daughters

There were several empty handicapped parking spaces near the main entrance to Carr's when we pulled in. Given Margie's condition, we could qualify in some ways, but the fact is we do not have the proper license plate or sticker, so of course we did not park there. No one who does not need those spaces should ever park in a handicapped spot.

Someday, I will post my photo-essay on my late brother, Ron, and you will understand why I am a hawk on this issue. I am learning to control myself, to tell myself that I am not a police officer and that there is nothing I can do about the rude, ignorant, dolts of the world, but I simply get outraged when I see a healthy person with no sticker park in such a spot. In the past, I have unleashed my wrath on more than a few, but now I try just to take a few deep breaths and move on.

Yes, when I post that essay, you will understand.

A big pickup truck was parked in one of the handicapped spaces. I could see no sticker, no license plate - but maybe there was something in the front window that was not visible to me from the back. 

Despite the fact she would be slow, Margie wanted to go into the store and shop for herself and I wanted to sit in the car and listen to All Things Considered on the radio. We were fortunate to find a parking space not far from the door, so I parked and she got out.

As she did, a fairly young woman with two little girls, who appeared to be her daughters, came bounding happily out of Carr's. And I mean bounding. All three were laughing and smiling, the little girls skipped and bounced and the woman moved at a brisk pace to easily keep up with them.

You can imagine my surprise when they climbed into the truck parked in the handicapped space.

That surprise soon turned to helpless terror when the lady backed out at too high a rate of speed - headed straight for my Margie, who was hobbling helplessly on her crutches. I was helpless. I could do nothing.

She missed her by inches.

Then, laughing with the little girls, she drove happily away, oblivious to what she had just about done.

Damn!

This was from one of those days when I got up late and groggy and had to go eat at Family Restaurant. It is nearly noon and that is why the sun is so high. If I had been there at a typical breakfast time, it would have been dark.

Family Restaurant.

When Kalib was a brand new baby, this waitress was delighted to see him. She oohed and aahed and cooed and all that kind of stuff. I can't wait until we can bring the next baby in and see how she reacts to him/her.

Old, wrecked, cars passing through Wasilla. Were they part of the Clunkers program? Or just old, wrecked, cars?

Did anybody ever make love in any of them?

How many hamburgers and hot dogs were eaten within?

Did anybody ever die in one?

Or break their neck and never walk again?

Or hit a man on a motorcycle and break his neck, so that he never walked again?

I find myself stopped behind a school bus.

On one side of me, this dog, Tequilla, barked furiously...

..simultaneously, on the other side, this dog barked, observed by two cows. Barking dogs, in stereo.

A typical scene from Schrock Road during a coffee break.

Jacob and Royce.

*Although I have scheduled this to appear Thursday, November 12, I actually made this post on Thursday, November 5. There are two reasons for this: 1: whatever bug it is that has got me down has left me unable to concentrate to the degree that I must to do my work. 2: The project that I have been working on is very nearly done, but I have never brought such a project to a close without going full-bore, night and day, on it at the end, distracted by no other tasks, including this blog.

So, before I go to bed, I am going to put up several days worth of posts from photos that I have recently taken but have not used. Then, for the next several days, I will not blog, I will stay away from the internet as much as possible and just bear down on getting this job done - but my posts will keep coming.

I think Kalib with get three of those posts, two at the very least.

Addendum - one image from today:

A shadow self-portrait. This is not early morning, it is not late afternoon - it is high noon. This is the season of long shadows.