A little boy watches a mouse; a little girl and a not-quite old homesteader; another licks the frosting

Last night, I was overwhelmed by sleepiness very early and so went to bed about 10:00 PM. In time, I fell asleep, sound asleep, it seemed. I woke up, thinking that hours had passed and that I had finally gotten a good rest.

But no. It was only 11:15 PM. Throughout the rest of the night, I mostly tossed and turned, forced sleeping cats to move from one spot to another and then back again. I slept very little.

Margie was sleeping in the guest room with Jobe, so that he would not fall out of bed.

Once Jobe got up, he sat down to watch Mickey Mouse.

He loves Mickey Mouse.

When I came home, Margie and I brought him home with us to ease the burden on his mother, now that she has three little ones, including two-week old Lynxton, to care for.

Margie had been staying there to help out, but I wanted her to come home with me and so we brought Jobe, too.

Friday, I leave on the 6:05 AM flight to Barrow. That means no good sleep tonight, either.

I stopped at Abby's on my morning walk - not for another breakfast but just for a shot of coffee. That's two-year old Danielle in her arms and 62-year old Harold Olsen chatting with them.

"How long have you lived here?" Harold asked me.

"Thirty-years," I answered.

"Newcomer," he said.

Harold's family homesteaded some property in 1953 right near where Abby would later grow up on the Mahoney Homestead.

Of course, to the Tanaina, even the homesteaders are newcomers.

This is Danielle's five-year sister, Audrianna, sampling the frosting.

Now... I am faced with a couple of intense tasks that I need to do over the next two to three weeks and I don't really have time to blog at all. Plus, somewhere, somehow, sometime, I really need to get some serious sleep. Maybe Saturday night and Sunday morning at Roy Ahmaogak's house in Barrow.

I had thought about putting this blog on hiatus again until I accomplish what needs to be accomplished, but decided against it.

I will attempt to post throughout the next two weeks or so, but don't expect much in these posts. Maybe one picture, sometimes, and one sentence.

I might miss a few posts altogether.

When the tasks are done and I get a decent sleep, I will finally blog my New York City David Alan Harvey Loft Workshop experience.

I am not going to let that one go untold.

Chicken and chicks at Abby's Home Cooking - all elements of this post made possible by Steve Jobs

I got up this morning, stepped outside and found that everything was frozen. I always go out for breakfast the morning after I return from a trip, so I warmed up the car, buckled Jobe into his car seat, got Margie and then jumped in to drive off to Abby's Home Cooking, but the windshield had iced-over, so I had to clean it off.

I kind of forgot about that kind of thing while I was in New York, sweltering most of the time.

I did not take my camera to Abby's, but decided that I would rely solely on my iPhone, so that is what I used to photograph this chicken and chicks that sit in a window at Abby's.

iPhone - one of Steve Job's gifts to the world. Of course, I put this post together on a Macintosh. Rather than drag Margie out here into my office to show her the post on my computer, I will show it to her on my iPad.

This Steve Jobs guy - he totally remade my life.

I'm going to miss him.

Metros and breakfast at Metro Cafe: in search of the invisible Carmen

When I am batching it, as I probably will be most of the time for the 6 next weeks or so until the baby who has not yet arrived is able to fend for him/herself, I can hardly bear to eat breakfast at home. Of course, if you have been reading this blog for awhile, you already know that. But I can't afford to go to the restaurant and have ham and eggs or omlettes every day, either, plus, I am told that it is not good for one's health to eat eggs every day.

Metro Cafe is not really a breakfast restaurant, although you can get a ham and egg or bacon and egg sandwich there, plus they now carry cups of various oatmeal blends that you add hot water to, just like with Cup o Noodles soup. This does not cost as much as a full restaurant breakfast.

So that is what I did this morning - I went to Metro Cafe and got me a cup of oatmeal and a 16 oz. Americano.

I sat by a window through which I could see these old Metro vans, waiting for Scot to restore them.

It occurred to me that, all summer long, I have not taken a photo of the restored Metro Van and Metro car that Scot parks out front in the summer time, kind of like a marque to draw customers in.

So I turned around, looked through the window behind me, and shot the restored Metro van. From this vantage point, I could not see the little Metro car.

Nicole was running the store by herself. Besides, me, there were three customers inside, but there was a constant flow of drive-through traffic.

I hardly see Carmen anymore. As regular readers know, I tend to come to Metro Cafe for my afternoon coffee break, which I usually take at 4:00 PM, to coincide with NPR's All Things Considered.

Now that Branson is six and in the first grade, Carmen is always off picking him up at that time, so I do not see her when I pull through.

Metro opens at 6:00 AM and Carmen usually comes in about 9:00. I thought about coming in at 9:00, just so I could say "hi" to her, but I did not want to wait that long before I ate my oatmeal and drank my coffee.

Carmen has a high level of energy and vivaciousness that her customers, both male and female, like to experience. Aside from the fact that she provides the best drive-through coffee in the valley and also has a pleasant, walk-in coffee shop like none other, I think it is Carmen's magnetism that has won over many of her customers.

"Tell Carmen 'hi' for me," I told Nicole as I left.

"I will," she said.

Then I stepped out the door... and there was Carmen. In her car. Bringing in a fresh load of supplies. So I was able to say "hi" myself and to begin this day with a little extra charge of energy.

As I drove out, I passed by the tiny Metro Car, which will soon be driven away and parked in a sheltered place for winter.

Perhaps some of you have noticed that as of late, I seldom post a truly sharp picture.

I call this "The Jobe Effect." Jobe is drawn to my camera and sometimes I just forget to set it down out of his reach. He likes to use the camera as a hammer to pound upon the floor. He likes to run his fingers all over the glass.

It's not his fault, its mine. But the fact is, this lens that I use for 80 percent of my pictures, and probably 96 percent of my daily, just kicking around blog pictures, is just not sharp anymore.

And here I am, about to go to New York City with my number one lens out of tweak.

I am pretty sure the Canon factory can put it back in order, but I need it, and can't send it in.

So I just keep taking pictures that are not as sharp as they could be.

And I will do so in New York as well.

View images as slides

Pregnant spider walking; Lavina comes to pick up her babies as we wait for the new baby; Hannah Solomon, who lived for almost 103 years

On my morning walk, I came upon this pregnant spider -- VERY PREGNANT! I had the wrong lens to be photographing a spider, but, to quote once again from Donald Rumsfeld:

"As you know, you photograph a spider with the lens you have, not the lens you wish you had brought or might bring at a later time, when the spider is gone."

Lavina had planned to come out yesterday and then spend the night with us so that she could see her babies again, but she didn't. This was because she had been having contractions Friday - not true labor contractions, but getting ready for labor contractions. Then it intensified to the point where she told Jake that it was time for him to take her to the hospital.

So Jake got ready to go and then the pains went away.

Margie and I then made plans to drive the boys back home Saturday. Lavina called to cancel our plans. She and Jacob were going to come out and pick them up themselves.

The idea of her traveling an hour away from her hospital scared me a bit, but I guess she had been cooped up at home too long, and needed to get out.

In the meantime, Kalib took a nap.

Jobe and me on the back porch.

Kalib prunes some bushes as he waits for his mom to arrive.

She arrived in the early evening, with Jacob and Muzzy in tow. She saw Jobe first, so picked him up and just gazed at him. This bed-rest stuff has been pretty hard on Lavina, because she loves to be with her babies but over the past weeks we have had them here more than she and Jacob have had them there.

Kalib then wanted her attention and he got it.

Soon she had them both.

Soon, they were ready to go - and they were taking Margie with them, so she could help out. Margie is one hell of a grandma, I'll say that. Back when we young and making babies ourselves, I never thought of her as a grandma, but she is a grandma and quite an amazing one, I think.

Before they got into the car to drive away, Jacob and Lavina discovered they had to clean dog poop off their shoes.

I jokes! I jokes! I jokes!

They were just checking out the soles of their shoes.

I think their shoes were new, that's why.

They sure look new to me.

Sooner or later, though, they will step in dog poop.

It happens to us all. It happened to me just yesterday... in the marsh that has dried up and become a meadow.

Gross!

Then they were all in the car, ready to go.

And there they go, Jake and Margie waving at me. You can't see Margie's face because she has turned it to her grandchildren, telling them to wave goodbye to grandpa, but I couldn't see them, so I don't know if they waved or not.

Kalib probably did. I doubt that Jobe did.

He wouldn't have been being stuck up or ornery, he's just not quite into waving yet... but he's getting there.

As I left, I climbed onto my bike and pedalled off on short ride, about ten miles round trip. As I pedalled down Seldon, this airplane flew overhead.

You can hardly see the plane at this size. It would show up bigger in slide show view. A few seconds later, I took a shot that I like better, because I dropped the camera down just a bit and you can see headlights coming down the road with the plane above.

But the plane is too small in that frame to even bother posting here.

I mention this less for the readers' benefit than my own.

One day, I intend to include these words in the title of a book I have so far only dabbled at but hope to publish before I die:

I still look up

And I think the one with the car headlights in it might be good enough to include in that book.

So I write this to myself so that when I come back to this page and see this plane, I will know that there is another image that I must go take another look at.

Remembering: Hannah Solomon, 10/10/08 - 9/16/11

Hannah Solomon, Matriarch of the Gwich'in Nation, who passed away in Fairbanks late Friday afternoon - three weeks before her 103rd birthday. July, 2006.

Hannah Solomon dancing at her 100th birthday party.

View images as slides

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?

View images as slides