On Soundarya's birthday, cake was cut on three continents, there were animals: small, big, newborn, passed on and symbolized

Manoj, fiance and more to Sujitha Ravichandran, Soundarya's younger sister, put out a request for Sandyz birthday that we who loved her should celebrate with cake for us and her. Although I had put up my birthday remembrance on the 12th, so that her family and friends in India could see it early on her birthday of April 13, I waited until the morning of the 13th here to begin our celebration.

Margie then mixed up a cake and put it in the oven, to bake for Soundarya. As it baked, I went walking. I came upon a frozen puddle that held this face - or faces. One can clearly see the ears and face of a cat, its chin resting atop its front paws. Yet, look closely and you will see that within the face of the cat there is a human face as well.

One of those little odd things that happens in nature, and on a day such as this.

Cats played an enormous role between Sandy and me. A gigantic role. I have been told from multiple good authorities that cats are very rare in India, but for Sandy and me, they were ubiquitous; they were everywhere.

As I walked in the morning of the 13th, her birthday, it was late night of her birthday in India. So I placed a Skype call over the local AT&T 3g network to Sujitha in Bangalore. It was an exquisitely beautiful morning - the sky clear and blue, the snow on the mountains bright against it, the clean, frosted air wonderfully chilled and pleasant.

So I tried to describe what I was seeing and experiencing to Niece Suji, which is very different than anything she would ever see in Bangalore.

It seemed to me that my description was inadequate. I wanted her to somehow sense and feel it herself. Suddenly, it struck me - I could break the ice of a puddle with my foot and let her hear the sound of the ice cracking and crunching beneath my shoe.

I stopped, held the phone near to the puddle and then crunched it repeatedly with my foot.

Sujitha, I am pleased to say, was pleased.

After Margie baked and frosted the cake, she cut it into three pieces - one for me, one for her and one for Soundarya. Jim observed. That's Margie's thumb, there at the edge of the plate.

I was a little unsure as to what to do with Sandy's piece of cake. I could eat it myself, but that didn't feel right. "Why don't you take it out back and leave it for her where we have buried the cats and dogs?" Margie suggested.

So I took Soundarya's plate to the back door and then opened it. Jim shot out ahead of me and led me across the grass in the direction of our pet cemetery, but stopped short of entering there himself.

Although she never met them, Sandy knew my cats - both the living and the dead. She knew Royce and sent me words of comfort after his death - just about one year ago. So I put her piece of cake at the head of his grave. I then looked through the trees into the clear blue sky and spoke a few words to her.

There was nothing more to do after that, so I stepped out of the cemetery. I found Jim waiting for me on this stump, right at the cemetery edge.

Manoj, "Manu" - posted these pictures on a special web page set up by Sandy's cousins to commemorate her birthday. He took them at his celebration in London, where he is looking for work. Sandy's brother, Ganesh, also told of his cake in Pune - and of course there those in Bangalore had their own cake.

So on her birthday, Soundarya... Sandy... Sound... Soundu... Muse... was remembered on at least three continents. 

Not long after I pedaled my bike to Metro Cafe, Kristine from almost next door showed up with a bagful of puppies - born at 2:00 AM, 14 hours earlier. 

It was a nice touch to add to Sandy's birthday... and not the last one, either...

In the evening of Sandy's birthday, this young bull moose came to our house. I was sitting on the couch when I saw him trot through the backyard, so I grabbed a camera and followed him. He stopped in the low growth that lies just beyond the pet cemetery and there allowed me to take this portrait.

So, Soundarya - this moose is for you. This is your birthday moose. I hope you like him.

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Exceedingly brief conservations with two moose, three horses and maybe another horse, maybe not; Bus, and Mary in the Grotto

After warming up the car for a bit, I jumped in and headed for coffee. I had barely gone a 100 yards or so down the road when I spotted a moose standing by the McDaniel's house. Like us, the McDaniels were among the first residents of this subdivision when it was new, nearly 30 years ago. 

Back then, perhaps because we all moved in at about the same time just after Charlie Bumpus had cut the new subdivision from semi-wilderness, we in the neighborhood all knew each other and we knew each other's kids. Pretty much everybody got along and looked after each other and their kids and it was a good place to grow kids.

It is not that way today. We who are still here from back then still know each other but for the most part this has become a neighborhood much like you might expect to find in California, where few neighbors know each other by name and everybody tends to live in their own world and at least a few live in paranoia.

I do know this moose, however. I have come upon this moose thousands of times over the past 30 years. It is a moose that always misinterprets things and each time I see it, it attempts to engage me in futile conversations that go nowhere.

So I hoped the moose would not see me, that I could drive by unnoticed.

"Hey, Bill!" the moose dashed my hope with a shout, "do you know whose kid this is?"

"What kid?" I answered, flummoxed, for I could see no kid.

"You blind?" the moose fired back. "This kid right here. The only kid in sight. For half-an-hour now, I've been asking the kid who his parents are, so I can take him home. Damn kid won't say a word."

"That's not a kid," I answered. "It's a lawn ornament."

"You think I'm stupid?" the moose retorted. "I know a kid when I see a kid. Now, whose kid is this?"

I had to get going and I could see that the conversation would be useless.

"Oh... yes...  I can see that you are right and I do recognize that kid. That's Alphonso, son of Rudy Guiliani, would-be President and the former Mayor of New York City."

"Okay, thanks! That's all I wanted to know," the moose said. It then turned its attention to the lawn ornament.

"Hey kid - pack a lunch bag of twigs and bark. We're going to New York City! I'm taking you home!"

I took advantage of the distraction and drove away as quickly as I could.

I stopped at Metro, bought a coffee and a cinnamon roll from Elizabeth and drove away. Remember how, just so short a time ago, it was completely dark during coffee break time? Well, look at it now.

I had not been by Grotto Iona for awhile or seen the Mahoney horses, so I thought I would swing by.

As I neared, I saw this school bus passing by the Grotto - A Place of Prayer. The driver did not stop to pray, but I'll bet he wanted to.

"Hey Bill!" the first Mahoney horse that I spotted shouted out at me. "Look at me! I know how to sleep walk! I'm walking in my sleep right now!"

"Pleasant dreams!" I shouted back.

"Hey Bill," the second horse shouted. "I know how to poop in the snow! Look, I just did."

I did not know what to say to that, so I said nothing.

"Hey Bill," this creature shouted out at me. "I've got ten bucks for you if you can tell me what I am, right now! No hestitation! Ten bucks!"

To be quite honest, I have not totally figured this creature out. Sometimes, I think its a mule. Look at the head - there is kind of a donkey shape to that head and mules are half donkey.

But I have known a few mules and they did not look quite like this.

Sometimes I have wondered if it might be some kind of horse bred special for cold climes. Before I made this post, I dropped by Facebook to see if Ron Mancil was there. Ron knows all the Mahoney stock well and I figured he could tell me.

But Ron was not on Facebook.

So I remain unsure.

"C'mon now, Bill!" the creature shouted back. "What am I?"

I had to come up with something, right or wrong.

"You're a creature of God!"

"Yes!" he shouted. "Come and get your ten bucks!"

So I got out of the car and went over. "Climb on my back and we'll go get it!"

So I climbed onto the back of this creature of God. The creature bucked ten times and on the tenth sent me flying nose first into the snow.

"Ha! A Creature of God!" the creature shouted. "Fooled you! I'm Satan's spawn!"

I staggered back to my feet. The final horse turned away from me. "What a dupe!" the horse muttered. "What a dupe! I have nothing to say to you. Nothing at all."

Humiliated, I climbed back into the car and pointed it toward home. Then I decided to stop for a few minutes at the Grotto, to see if I could regain my composure, to see if I could find some peace there.

Even though I am not Catholic and hardly know what to believe at all, everytime that I have ever stopped at the Grotto, even when beset by bitter grief, I have felt a bit of peace there.

This day was no exception.

Coming down Wards, I heard another voice shout out, "Hey Bill!" It was this bull moose, who has lost his antlers and must grow a new set.

"What?" I answered.

"Bethca can't see me!"

"I can too see you!" I countered.

"No you can't."

"Yes I can!"

"No you can't!"

"Yes I can!"

"No you can't."

I gave up, went home and ate some Kracker Jacks. 

I am getting tired of Kracker Jacks.

For four months now, I have been eating nothing but Kracker Jacks; Kracker Jacks everyday. Kracker Jacks for breakfast, Kracker Jacks for lunch, Kracker Jacks for dinner, Kracker Jacks for snacks.

I am tired of Kracker Jacks. And the prizes are nothing like they were when I was a kid.

I thought about getting my rifle and putting some moose on the table, but it was the wrong season for that.

So I tore open another box of Kracker Jacks.

Sure enough, there was a two-deminsional paper moose inside.

When I was a kid, it would have been a plastic moose - in three dimensions.

I tell you - America is going downhill!

I live on Sarah's Way in Wasilla, Alaska - so I know. No joke. I live on Sarah's Way. I am proud to say, though, that my street was named for a very good Sarah - Sarah Bumpus, daughter of the late Charlie Bumpus, a former mayor of Wasilla and builder of this subdivision.

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Depending on your monitor, pictures will appear larger and be much more impressive

I drive to town through a beautiful part of America to pick Margie up; Kalib and Jobe; the wind blows; moose die in front of cars

It was time to go pick Margie up from her latest stint at Jacob and Lavina's to help care for Kalib and Jobe. When I took off about mid-afternoon, A Prairie Home Companion was on the radio. Soon, the song, America, the Beautiful was performed. As I happened to be driving in a particularly beautiful part of America, I lifted my camera and shot a frame through the windshield, just as they sang about "spacious skys" and "amber waves of grain."

Around the next bend, I came upon this car, sporting a decal of a grenade on the rear window. That grenade is a little hard to see at this size, but, depending on the size of your monitor, it stands out in slide show view.

In town, gas was a bit cheaper than out here. I wonder what the price will be next week? 

On my way to Jacob and Lavina's house.

I unlocked the door and entered the house. It was very quiet, as if no one was there. I was pretty sure someone was, so I headed up the stairs. At the top, I came upon Martigny.

Margie was resting in the living room. 

Jobe was taking a nap on Kalib's bed. As for Kalib and his parents, they had gone downtown to see some of the Anchorage Fur Rendezvous stuff, like the snow sculptures. As for me, I had no time for Fur Rendez on this day. I just wanted to pick up Margie and head back to Wasilla as quickly as possible.

But we could not head back with Jobe asleep and his parents and brother away.

After a bit, Jobe began to wake up. He had a cold, was not feeling well, and was a bit groggy.

Jobe's little feet.

I do a self-portrait of Jobe and I. I see I should have washed my hair that day.

Oh well.

About half-an-hour after I arrived, the rest of the family came home. Lavina reported that it had been very cold downtown, that the wind had been blowing, picking up the snow and hurling it through the air. The flying snow had stung everybody's faces.

But I know from experience that if I could have gone downtown I would have saw many people frolicking, riding the carnival rides and just having fun.

Lavina was not feeling well, either. Kalib needed a nap. Margie picked him up and carried him to his room. He was not pleased by this and vocally expressed his displeasure, but, once down, Kalib soon fell asleep.

I had been holding Jobe, but I gave him to his mom and then went and sat back down.

Jobe wanted me back. How could I refuse?

Finally, we just had to go. Jobe was not pleased.

Out on the road, we came upon Jacob, who had been walking Muzzy.

The wind buffeted and rocked the car as we drove home. If you were to view this in slide-show mode, you would see that those two signs have pictures of moose on them, as a warning to drivers. Another caution sign, just when you enter the valley, states that 198 moose have been killed by moose-car collisions in the valley so far this winter.

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Kivgiq, 2011, part 6, day 2a: My Kivgiq work gets interrupted by family and love

Earlier today, I was busily editing day 2 of Kivgiq and I kept seeing the words, "Family" and "love," - just like you see them here, behind the Kaktovik drummers.

There was evidence of "family" and "love" all around - sometimes mixed with a bit of mischief, such as when little Jessie James Bodfish Panik of Wainwright boy went running across the dance stage with a drum stick.

Of course, today when I would look at such pictures, I would think of my own family, especially my own small grandsons, Kalib and Jobe.

I have pretty much been alone all week. On Monday, we got a call from Jacob. Lavina was not feeling well and needed help with the little ones. So Monday afternoon - our anniversary - I drove Margie into town, dropped her off to help with Kalib and Jobe and then turned right around and drove back home to Wasilla.

In the time since, except for momentarily glimpses of Caleb just before he goes to bed after working his night shift, I have been all alone.

It doesn't bother me to be alone, not when I have all these pictures to sort through and edit. I can just go and go and go without interruption and so I do.

Perhaps too much. Without Margie here to rein me in a bit, I tend not to stop, but to keep going when I should give up and go to bed. I posted last night's blog at 2:04 AM, for example, then stayed right here, at this computer and dabbled with other things until about 4:00 AM.

I did not expect to see Margie until this evening, but, right after lunch, I heard a knock upon my office door. Guess who was here?

This guy, Jobe! Lavina was feeling much better and had driven Margie home.

I'm afraid my work fell apart after that. My picture editing slowed down to almost nothing.

I accomplished very little workwise, but accomplished a bit more "family" and "love" wise.

Kalib came, too, but he had fallen asleep in the car and never woke up. Lavina soon left, taking the sleeping Kalib with her. She left Jobe to spend all or part of the weekend with us - depending on how lonely she gets without him.

And I discovered something else late this afternoon. Monday is a holiday. That makes this a three-day weekend. My readership tends to drop off on weekends - especially three day weekends.

And the truth is, I am very tired. "Exhausted" would be a better word. I pushed myself hard day and night during Kivgiq and I have done the same since my return.

So I decided to take it a little easy this weekend - to get some visiting done with Jobe. I will keep editing my Kivgiq pictures, but I will hold my further Kivgiq posts until the weekend has passed. By then, maybe I will have a better handle on the material that I have.

I will still make little posts through the weekend - maybe on Jobe, or whatever. 

Then, on Tuesday, I will resume my Kivgiq posts. I am not covering a news story anymore anyway. I am now putting out a record of a historical event - but one that I want to share the pictures from, particularly with my friends on the Arctic Slope but also with anyone else who is interested. It's going to take more time than I originally anticiapated, but that's okay.

Maybe I will find some time this weekend to hang out with moose. I found this mom and her two nearly grown calves as I was driving home from my coffee break.

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As I continue to contemplate the future of this blog, I happen upon two moose, a kid exits a school bus and I prepare to fly to Barrow

I know - as moose pictures go, this one is fairly boring - but this is the moose picture that presented itself to me today as I set out on my walk, so it is the picture that I got.

And this is the kid-getting-off-the school bus picture that presented itself after I had walked about two miles and was returning home.

I must keep this post short. In just hours, I board a jet to Barrow and before I do, I've got to get a haircut, pick up my once broken but now repaired 16-35 mm lens as well as some other supplies and eat some tacos or something.

I fear that for the next week, my posts are likely to be tiny, next to nothing - which is the irony that I always face when I am in the field. I will be shooting pictures like crazy and I should get some pretty decent ones, but I will not have time to edit them, I will not have time to process them, my internet connection will be slow and I will be using my laptop, which is still malfunctioning because I have not been able to repair it, so I will not be able to post anything more than a token image or two per day.

I will do my best to post something every day. I can't promise, but I will do my best.

And for all of you who gave me suggestions regarding my contemplation about the future of this blog, be assured that I have read them all and am thinking about what you say.

I expect to return to Wasilla early next week and then to stay home for about three weeks before I head back into the field for a more extended stay.

I will continue the contemplation at that time and, before that three weeks is over, will seek to take at least one concrete step towards that future.

I've got to go now.

I am a very shy person, but I know that I am going to have to dance in front of a large audience at least a couple of times before this week is over.

I know it. There is no way out around it. I am going to have to do it.

I will try to make it fun.

Three from India: Bill, Vijay, and Melanie

Yesterday, my nephew Vijay left a comment on a recent post in which he made a request that I pull up a picture that he took of me at Mahabalipuram-Mamallapuram, the place where a temple is carved out of a rock.

So, as ridiculous as I look, I honor his request. You will note that my shirt is soaked with sweat. That is because it was 198.6 degrees F there. I am not kidding. I am not exaggerating. That's how hot it was.

And that was the coolest that it got the whole time that Melanie and I were in India.

This is Vijay himself, and Vasanthi, who is also his mom.

And here is Melanie, wandering about inside the temple cut out of a rock, the temple that was never finished.

I will not be able to post India pictures while I am in Barrow, but be certain, I will be remembering, continually.

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