The weather down in Wasilla, the weather up here in Barrow

This is two mornings ago, as I walked from the section of Barrow called Browerville toward Pepe's North of the Border Mexican Restaurant, for breakfast. No planes could land. The temperature was barely above freezing and the wind chill well below.

When I talked to Margie (who I have not seen now for over a month) later in the day, the temperature in our part of Wasilla was 88 degrees and she had been stung by yellow jacket hornets who have nested alongside the house.

This happens every summer, but some summers it gets insane. Yellow jackets everywhere, defending the homes that they build on our home.

I have never seen a yellow jacket here in Barrow.

The way things are going, though, it wouldn't surprise me if some day I do.

The same spit from a different angle, later in the day. If you look close, you can see that the Alaska Airlines jet was finally able to land.

Feeling lazy, I step backward in time a bit

When I started this blog, I said that I would alternate current photos of Wasilla (and elsewhere) with images that I had taken in the past. I haven't really done much of that. It is too hard to keep up with the present, let alone visit the past.

But today I went to town for a doctor visit (shoulder surgery followup - yes, after all this time, I still must do followups. The doctor, by the way, is most impressed with how I have healed. He said most people who suffered the same injury I did would not be able to raise their arm more than 90 degrees out from their body one year later and he could hardly believe it when I held mine straight up above my head. Two reasons, I figure - he did a good job on the surgery and I worked really hard to put that arm back in action. Margie got upset with me sometimes, said I was pushing it too hard, but I had to push it hard) and when I came home, I started sorting through pre-blog photographs for a project I want to do.

I worked on it until just a little bit ago and now I am lazy, so I am just going to blog a few past photos, like the train above.

I love trains, don't you know?

And then there was the time the Little Su overflowed, but I drove through and across the bridge anyways, as did these happy kids.

A couple of hitchhikers that I once picked up on Church Road, sitting in the back seat, as seen in my rear-view mirror.

A barista by the name of Melanie at Cafe Darte. Cafe Darte is up for sale. My daughter Melanie wants her Mom and I to buy it. We have no money to buy it.

Becky bounces on her trampoline as I drive by.

And how about Wasilla Main Street? I am pretty sure she rose from the ground wiser than before she fell.

This girl is not on Main Street, but on the Parks Highway, which was mistakenly identified as Wasilla Main Street on the Daily Show with Jon Stewart. I admire him, anyway. 

I was going to pull up an India shot, too, but I see there is only seven minutes left in this day and I have not taken a single picture. I will go take one, now. You will probably never see it, but I cannot let the day pass by totally undocumented.

Jim, the amateur weatherman, takes care of his fifteen month old granddaughter so that her mother can go to college and her dad to war

In the old days, before Serendipity destroyed the life that I had led here, I would sometimes come across Jim in the woods, he walking one way with a dog and I, the other, also with a dog. Then developers tore down the woods, built high-priced houses and named their construction of the destruction of my way of life, Serendipity.

Years passed, and I did not see Jim. Then, on a sub-zero day last fall I met him again while walking along the new Seldon Road extension that sepates Lower Serendipity from Upper Serendipity - where the really expensive houses have been built.

We stopped to visit. I saw him again a couple of days later and then no more after that, until today, when we crossed paths in just about the exact same serendipitous place.

The big news in his life is that he and his wife are now taking care of their 15 month old great-granddaughter so that his granddaughter can go to college and her Army husband can train at Fort Richardson for his imminent departure to fight in Afghaniston.

"That must be fun," I said, thinking about how fun it is to have Kalib around here.

Jim's eyes went wide in agreement and dismay . "Oh, yes!" he said, "She's fun, but she's 15 months old and she is fast." She zips about here, and she zips about there. "They drop her off Sunday night and then pick her up Friday night.

"Her name is Natalie, but I call her Sweet Pea. Did you ever watch Popeye? She's just like Popeye's Sweet Pea." Sweet Pea, of course, forever scoots all over the place, zipping from chaos and hazard to hazard and chaos, and is always innocent of it.

I mentioned that by the end of the month, the snow will be gone (except perhaps for patches in shady places). Wasilla will look like a different place than it does now. Not green yet, no leaves will have broken out, but the temperature will consistently be above freezing and they will be budding, getting ready to sprout.

Jim told me that he mans a little weather station at his house and keeps a daily record of what happens. This winter, he recorded 57 days below zero, several in the - 30's and a few in the - 40's. Eight feet of snow fell in his yard, but there was a big meltdown in January.

March had nine sub-zero days, or maybe it was seven. He could not remember for certain.

Remember, Outside readers, Wasilla is not in one of Alaska's cold zones. Ours' is a more temperate climate than you will find in Alaska's cold zones.

After Jim went his way and I mine, I saw these kids, fresh off their school bus, walk into Lower Serendipity.

And these two walked the other way, into Upper Serendipty. Their parents must be really rich.

I leave Serendipity. A car with a man and woman in the front seat comes down Ward's Road.

And this girl walks toward Serendipity. I do not know if she ultimately walked into Lower or Upper, because I headed home, to Ravenview.

A moose crossed the road a hundred yards in front of me, but by the time I could get my camera out of my pocket and turn it on, it had disappeared into the trees.

And that pretty much defines everything that happened in Wasilla this day that is worth defining.

But in Alaska, it was a big news day.

Go to the Anchorage Daily News, and you can read all about it.

Today, part 2: We get ashed by Mt. Redoubt

Melanie, wearing her ash mask in the parking lot of the Arts building at the University of Alaska, Anchorage.

When I left Wasilla for Anchorage, the sky was clean and pure, deep, blue, the mountains gleaming stark and white against it. I thought about taking some pictures, but I had already taken quite a few pictures today and I expected to take several more at the play.

I did not want to spend the time editing and processing the white mountains against the clean blue sky pictures, since that is not an uncommon scene around here.

Now, I wish I had taken those pictures, just to show the contrast. It happened so fast. 

As I neared Anchorage, the sky suddenly darkned, the air in front of me became hazy, fine dust - ash - swirled about cars as they drove through it.

Mt. Redoubt has been blowing off and on for days now. The ash has gone here and there, but has always missed us.

Now, all of sudden, it had hit us. 

Or at least Anchorage. I did not know if it had hit Wasilla.

The tower at Merrill Field. No planes were flying.

I wanted it to stop, all right. I hate to breathe this stuff. Imagine glass ground to the consistency of powdered sugar. That's what ash tends to be like. It hurts to breathe the stuff.

Flags near Merrill Field.

I did not want to drive the car through it, either. Ash is not good for cars. I hope my filters all did their job. Better replace them soon.

When I got back to Wasilla, it was even worse.

It was simply awful in Wasilla. In some zones, almost like a blizzard.

I had no choice but to breathe the stuff.

Jacob and Lavina reached the house at the same time I did. They had been out shopping. They reported that when they stepped out of Fred Meyer's, they got struck in the face by tiny rocks falling from the sky.

That must have been one hell of a boom.

If this keeps up, I am going to have to get some masks for Margie and me.

This post is for you, Lavina, beloved daughter-in-law, wonderful mother of my grandson

Lavina, I hope that you are enjoying Vancouver and learning much that will help you in your work. I especially hope that your presentation goes well. I know you miss Kalib terribly, so this blog entry is for you. Here is Kalib, this morning, at the back door, when I returned from my walk.

This is from yesterday's walk. Your husband just hurled the sled as hard as he could, to see how far Kalib would slide.

I had to jump out of the way.

Then we all went back into the marsh.

Jacob and Kalib headed home from there. I had not walked far enough, so I continued on. "Bye, bye!" I waved to Kalib.

He raised his hand and waved back.

Then I walked through the snow. For just a little while, it really snowed. Then the sun came out.

So here they are, your dog, your son and your mother-in-law, who you call, "Mom," just like you call me "Dad." This gives us a warm and good feeling, Daughter.

Lisa brought Juniper out. Kalib and Juniper had a good time. Grahamn Kracker has posted more pictures from that visit on his No Cats Allowed blog. If you go there, you will not only see more pictures of Kalib, but the moment when Juniper discovered herself in the mirror.

A wider shot, from my return this morning, of Kalib, in Caleb's arms. Very similar to another I did awhile back, except that I made a point of including my reflection in this one.

I suppose that I ruined it, by including myself in it.

I know that you have heard about the latest eruptions of Mt. Redoubt. Today, the flights going north toward Fairbanks and Barrow were canceled, but the flights going and coming from the south mostly flew.

We sure do hope that the planes all fly on the day of your scheduled return.