An AWAC flies over Wasilla

On the very day that our most famous resident was shown, again and again, on TV, You-tube and all across the net, blithely doing an interview as turkeys were slaughtered behind her, an AWAC passed over Wasilla.

Detail from the top photo. Later, I would drive to Anchorage, board a jet and fly to Fairbanks.

On the other side of Serendipity, a new gas station opens

Throughout the summer and fall, what seemed to be a most unlikely construction project was underway at the corner of Church Road and the new Seldon extension, the stretch of road seen here - the one recently added after they tore down more trees and slashed open the hills upon which me and my now dead dog used to wander, usually seeing no one.

This is on the other side of Serendipity, but not withstanding the development there, it did not seem to be a very good place to build a business - just too far off the beaten business track. Beyond Serendipity, the houses along Church Road and the extensions likely to feed traffic past the new business number very few.

The owners of the new building must expect many more houses to be built in the near future.

Recently, the building opened for business, a gas station on one side, a liquor store on the other. Today, when my daughter-in-law accompanied me on a walk across Serendipity, we saw this sign. The new gas station is selling gas for $2.79, the lowest price I have seen around here. 

It seems to be running about $2.99 to $3.09 elsewhere in this area.

Maybe tomorrow, I will go buy some gas there, before I head to Anchorage and catch my plane to Fairbanks.

Uncle Ted: On one of his worst days, an image from a good one; A dog I met as I walked today

Senator Stevens, "Uncle Ted," in Kaktovik (ANWR), 1986:

This was the day that Ted Stevens, who has served Alaska in the US Senate for 40 years, conceded the election to Mark Begich, Mayor of Anchorage. I thought perhaps I would write some wise words, about how this is both such a sad and happy day for Alaska, to go along with this picture, but I will leave the words of wisdom to the pundits and editorial writers. 

I have taken many pictures of Senator Stevens over the years, in various places in Alaska and Washington, DC as well, but this is the one that I think of first when I hear him referred to as "Uncle Ted."

The boy is John Lampe of the Iñupiat Eskimo village of Kaktovik, the only community within the boundaries of the Arctic National Wildlife Refuge. 

John is a man now.

Read Stevens departure from the Senate in the Anchorage Daily News

Late this morning, I encountered this dog on Tamar Loop:

By now, it should be obvious that I encounter many dogs when I go walking - some friendly, some not. I encountered this one today - trash pickup day in my Wasilla neighborhood. The dog was loose and I do not know where it lives.

As the dog approached, I could tell that it was happy to see me.

The dog stopped. I acknowledged it.

The dog then continued on its way.

I catch trespassers in action with my pocket camera

I guess the near all-nighter that I put in from Friday through Saturday morning caught up with me today, because I did not get up until about 10:30 AM. Oh, well, I figured, I tend to do so much of my work late at night or in the wee hours that what does it matter if I sleep late?

So I ate oatmeal, took my walk, but got so lazy that I did not climb the hill, but instead turned away from it and cut through the marsh straight toward my house. There, maybe 300 yards from my back yard, I spotted a cow moose. As you can see, she was trespassing. I reckoned she probably had a calf nearby, so I approached slowly, cautiously; I did not want to get between a cow and her calf. 

Aha! What did I tell you? A calf stands beside her! In fact, it looks like two calves.

It is two calves. Look closely and you will see. Now I am faced with a dilemma. I must make a decision, but there are three things that I do not want to do, in this order: I do not want to get stomped on by a Momma moose, acting under the misguided belief that she must kill me to save her calves. I do not want to have to turn around and go home the way I came. I do not want to disturb the moose and calves too much.

Usually, when you walk toward a cow and her calves, at some point she will simply lead them to another place, away from you. But, a few times, I have a had that momma come stamping towards me, her head low, the hair on the nape of her neck bristling, nostrils flaring, a gleam of fire coming from her eyes that told me she was quite willing to kill me to protect her own.

Still, I believed they would turn and move away if I approached, so I walked slowly toward them. They did turn and move away.

The momma and her calves, out in the middle of the marsh.

Moving through the marsh.

They come back to the trail. "Okay, kids, look both ways before crossing."

They cross and disappear into the brush on the other side.

The cow and one calf reappear and move down the trail in front of me. I wonder where the other calf is?

This was one of those times when I kind of wished that I had my big Canon 1Ds M III and my 100-400 mm lens with me, instead of the pocket camera. But what I like about the pocket camera is that I can carry it in my pocket. After one shatters his camera shoulder, even when he reaches the point where the shoulder is well on the mend, he appreciates being able to carry his camera in his pocket.

He doesn't want to carry a big camera, and a big lens.

At least, I don't. Not yet.

There will be more moose in the future, and other times when I can stalk them with the big camera and the big lens - unless I decide never to shoot a big camera again. I have thought about it. But no, I don't think so. Nice as it is, this G9 pocket camera just has too many limitations, and I've got some serious work to do.

I return to this house and spend the rest of the day sitting where I sit right now, in my office, right here in front of my computer, except that at 5:00 PM I take a break to drive my wife to work, and take this picture along the way. Any readers who live in warm places might be appalled at this picture; you might think the cars in front of me have bad rings, are burning oil and are severe polluters.

No, this is just what cool air does to exhaust.

Reunion at IHOP as ravens fly outside - sled dog, utlralight and Charlie; Melanie tricks me out of my large Pepsi

It is kind of a Sunday tradition around here for me to take whomever of my children might be about to IHOP for breakfast. Today, that meant Caleb. Our waitress was Kimberly. She was friendly and chipper, and brought coffee and multiple-flavored creamers immediately, then took our order.

Kimberly turned then away from our table, saw some people standing right behind her and shrieked. They shrieked too. Then they all started hugging. Some of her family members had come up from Kodiak, and had surprised her. Above, she hugs her brother.

I am not certain if this is Kimberly's sister, sister-in-law, good friend, or what, because I had to let her work, and let them eat, so I did not ask many questions. I did give Kimberly the address to this blog, though, and she can add any information that see might like in "comments."

I then looked out the IHOP window and saw ravens flying, including this one, mysteriously trailed by flying saucers. Some might challenge me on this, note the uncanny resemblance the saucers bear to the lights in IHOP and argue that there must be a connection.

That's the trouble with this society - even when you have photographic proof, the skeptics stand ready to shoot you down.

Down towards Chugiak, I saw this flying object in the sky. Now, what do you skeptics have to say about this?

And here is a sled dog, a member of the team owned by Diane Benson, Tlingit poet, playwright, actress and former candidate for Alaska's lone seat in Congress, mother of the Iraq war veteran, Latseen Benson, who is making a life for himself despite the fact that he lost his legs in that country. If you are curious, you can find the story on my other blog, the one about cats, beginning right here.

This is Charlie, in the parking lot at Taco Bell. None of us had expected to meet here. In fact, I had been out and about and had planned to go back to my house for a few minutes - just long enough to fix myself a sandwich and then go pick Margie up from work. But when I stepped into the house, my nose was struck by an aroma most foul.

Muzzy had pooped on the floor. Muzzy is not the kind of dog who poops on floors, but when I saw the various piles he had left in an array spread before the back door, it was obvious that his tummy had gotten upset. I was wondering what to do about this when Caleb drove into the driveway, coming from wherever he had been, and then walked into the house.

I decided to let him deal with it, but I had no desire to make a sandwich as he was doing so, so I headed off for Taco Bell. Along the way, Melanie and Charlie pulled up beside me in Melanie's little car, then followed me to the parking lot.

"What are you doing here, Dad?" Melanie chided in her reprimanding tone. 

"I'm going to get lunch," I said, "and then go pick your mother up from work."

"Why are you just getting lunch now? It's too late! And I can't believe your going to Taco Bell!"

"I can't believe you grew up in my house and can't believe I am going to Taco Bell," I countered. "Get in, and you two can come with me and then we will go pick up your Mom and get coffee."

Soon, we were at the drive-through and when it came time to order drinks, Charlie said he didn't want one and Melanie asked for a small Pepsi. "And I'll have..." I began.

"A small Pepsi!" Melanie interrupted me, "order a small Pepsi!"

"...a large Pepsi."

"Dad! A large Pepsi? Why? I can't believe it!"

We got our food and drove to a place in the parking lot where no cars were and stopped there to eat it.

"Dad," Melanie said as I reached for the large Pepsi. "Charlie and I need to share one drink, so you take the small Pepsi and we will share the large."

Did she think I would fall for this?

"No," I said. "I want the large Pepsi." I reached for it, but suddenly felt bad for Charlie. He had insisted that I let him pay for it all and it would not be right for him to now only have half of a small Pepsi - even if it was his own fault for not ordering a drink to begin with.

So I drank the small Pepsi - which was not enough to wash down a quesadilla and a burrito - as they shared my large Pepsi. Then we went straight to Wal-Mart, picked Margie up and headed to the nearest coffee shop. Charlie tried to pay again, but I wouldn't let him. You could say that I put my foot down, and when I did, the car moved forward and we drove away, because the gas pedal was beneath my foot.

And this event happened, right here, in Wasilla, Alaska.

Some readers might get confused, and think that it happened in Amarillo, Texas, but it didn't. It happened here. In Wasilla.

We don't go to Texas to get coffee. Everything is too small down there. We feel enclosed, trapped; we scream for elbow room, whenever we are down in Texas.

That's the trouble with living in Alaska. Afterwards, no other place can stack up. Outside, it all falls short.