Paralysis

Ever have a day when you feel so weary and drained that you wonder how you can possibly carry on? Today is such a day for me. I won't bother to explain... I lack the energy. Anyway, I took this picture last night as I was working on Kivgiq, just before I hit the wall.

As both he and Jim so often do, Pistol plopped himself right down in a spot that made it difficult for me to use my mouse.

After I hit the wall, I did not want to just stop, because I have so many things I am trying to do, so I shifted my attention to another project, thinking that in this way I might keep accomplishing something, one way or another. So I did a search of my computer, looking for a certain picture that I hoped was still in it or on one of the hard drives currently plugged in.

It was not, but a bunch of pictures that I was not looking for popped up, including this one of Jim standing atop my monitor back when I had a monitor that a cat could actually stand on top of.

There are multiple big personal stories in this picture, some of which I have hinted at but never told in full. I actually just now got carried away and wrote one of them out in some detail, but thought better of it, cut it out, saved it as a word file and will return to it one day in the future through this or another outlet.

Now I think I will take a long walk and see if I can start putting myself back together. I've got too much to do to let myself be paralyzed like this.

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Will this be Jobe's last great crawl through the house? Congratulations, John Baker! post Kivgiq scene, Friendly people in a truck

First, before I analyze what may have been Jobe's last great crawling expedition through this house, I must congratulate John Baker for his record-breaking Iditarod win. I was greatly pleased to learn this. Baker is the first Alaska Native to win this great race since 1976, and the first Iñupiat ever to win it.

I only regret that I could not have been there to photograph his finish. Oh, this blog has such a long way to go to ever become what I want and hope it to be! And the event that happened today that I missed will never come again.

In some ways, it doesn't matter, because his finish was well-documented and there is probably not much I could have added to it, but given where he comes from and my history with the Iñupiat, I surely wish that I could have been there.

But there is no point in feeling sorry for myself, what is, is, and I was present for Jobe's great expedition and here it is. Given the fact that he has learned to toddle behind the wagon, given the fact that yesterday he rose up and stood for a time all on his own, it is possible that from now on, his expeditions will be taken all on foot.

He will be spending time with us this weekend, and I think he will probably still do some crawling, but one never knows.

Anyway, this particular crawling expedition began with him chasing after Jim. He did not catch him.

After Jim ditches him, Jobe continues on through the kitchen and enters the hallway.

Jobe ponders which way to go.

He turns around and goes the other way - all the way to our bedroom.

Once in the bedroom, he turns around again. Will he come out?

Yes! He pushes open the door and comes out.

Back up the hall he goes.

Jobe completes his great expedition.

Last night, I finally reached the very last Kivgiq picture that I took, and this is it - right after everything came to an end and people began to disperse.

So, today, I will go back through and make some kind of Kivgiq show tomorrow. I did not think that I was going to be able to, but it now looks like there is a good possibility that I will get to make a special Kivgiq Uiñiq. In this case, I will not go quite so crazy here with hundreds of pictures as I had thought I would, as I will want that Uiñiq to be special when it comes out, with a good number of pictures in it that will have not been seen before.

And this from India...

Friendly people in a truck, going who knows where to do who knows what, as our taxicab passes them on the right.

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Jobe falls, gets up and becomes a rolling toddler

As I prepared these pictures of my bright-eyed grandson, Jobe, for today's post, I could not help but think repeatedly of the equally bright-eyed children of Japan who have lost their homes, or even their lives, who have been displaced, and now live in dire circumstance.

In contrast to that, being very much aware of the arbitrary of this life and knowing that what hits Japan today can hit Alaska tomorrow, I begin today's happy essay with this image of my grandson, Jobe, who has discovered that with the help of his little wagon, he can now toddle about the house.

But oh, no! He falls on his butt. He looks up into my eyes (note that in this picture I am holding the camera low and off to the side in front of Jobe, so those are my feet and legs that you see to the left and he is indeed looking into my eyes) and cries. He wants me to pick him up, to comfort him, to put him back on his feet.

"It's okay, Jobe," I tell him. "You don't need me to help you. You can get up. You can do it yourself."

Jobe realizes that he must do this for himself. He begins to get up.

Jobe is up, a little bit unsure of himself, but ready to go again. In the background, his Uncle Caleb prepares to putt an imaginary golf ball.

 Off Jobe goes, as Caleb putts his golf ball through the roof and 400 yards down the road.

Jobe dashes into a sun beam.

He rounds the corner toward the kitchen...

...he passes by the kitchen table...

...gleefully, he charges through the kitchen, his fall forgotten.

Then back into the living room where he will do it all again... and again... and again...

I had to do some other things, so I retreated to my office as Jobe continued to wagon-toddle his laps. After a bit, I heard someone pounding on the window in front of my computer, where Jimmy likes to sit, bask in the sun and watch for moose, ravens, little birds and whatever else he might see out there.

I stood up, lifted the curtain and there was Jobe, looking in at Jimmy and me.

How did he ever grow to be so tall, so fast?

Later still, I stepped back into the house and saw that, using a couch for support, he had risen to his feet all on his own. He reached out for me.

So I took his little hand, and the two of us went walking. Again, in this picture, I am holding the camera away from me, so as to get my hand in the picture. Again, he is looking straight into my eyes.

And all this happened as children in Japan struggled for their very lives.

Let us not forget them even as we live our own lives.

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Master chef boy Kalib shows up carrying his spatula, then whips up some chocolate chip cookies; his little brother falls asleep

Late yesterday morning, master chef boy Kalib showed up carrying his spatula. He was ready to cook.

Soon, he was mixing dough to bake chocolate chip cookies. 

He spread flour across the counter top, and then discovered that if he whipped it off the counter and into the air, the flour spray would glow in the sunbeam that shone through the window.

He had already put in the white sugar - now it was time for the brown.

He did some of the steps out of order, and did not follow the recipe closely, but that is the kind of thing that master chef boys do.

His grandma poured vanilla extract into a measuring spoon.

Kalib had to be certain that this task was done right, so master chef boy took the measuring spoon from his grandma and applied the vanilla to the pre-dough concoction himself. 

He used a potato masher to mix everything together.

Then his mom showed up with an electric mixer as little brother Jobe drifted past the picture of little brother Jobe than hangs on the refrigerator door.

Before I continue - I must emphasize that Jobe also did something pretty darn spectacular during this visit, but I can only stuff so much into one post and so I am saving Jobe's accomplishment for another day.

Kalib stood ready with his mixing fork, just in case his mother did not do such a good job with the electric mixer.

Kalib added more flower and such to the mix.

Kalib checked to be certain that there are no frogs in the mix. A frog would spoil the cookies.

Then it was time to add the chocolate chips. So Kalib added one.

Then he ate a chocolate chip.

Next, he ate another chocolate chip.

To make it easer for him to dump all the chocolate chips at once, his dad put the chips in a bowl. Kalib extracted one and ate it.

Then he extracted another and put it into the mix. At his rate - three chips, one at a time, into Kalib for every chip, one at a time, into the mix, it was going to take a long time and these cookies were going to be sparse on chocolate chips.

The process of applying the chips was taking so long that Jobe grew tired and weary. He began to yawn. His mother tied him into his cradle board, where he promptly fell asleep.

Somehow, a number of chips sufficient to make cookies made it into the batter. Kalib assigned the menial task of placing the dough onto the cookie sheets and into the oven to his father.

When the cookies were done, Kalib ate them himself. Every last one. He teased his dad with this one, pretending that he was going to let him take a bite, but devoured it before Dad could.

Maybe I exaggerate a little bit.

Maybe Kalib shared the cookies with the rest of us.

Maybe we enjoyed them, because it is fact that they were damn good.

Maybe I ate more than I should have.

Maybe I still feel the excess chocolate chip cookies weighing down my tummy.

Probably not, but maybe.

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Two studies of the young writer, Shoshana; dog in the post office; six scenic views taken through the window or a red Ford Escape in the vicinity of the Little Susistna River and the Manvil H. Olson Bridge; breakfast

Metro Cafe study of the young writer, Shoshana, #1,313,467,982.3333: The young writer removes the cap from the half-and-half.

Metro Cafe study of the young writer, Shoshana, #7: The young writer readies a lid before snapping it on a cup of steaming Americano.

In mid December, a photographer friend who lives in Greece and who I met at the online magazine, burn, air-mailed his book, Nicosia in Dark and White, to my street address. Months passed, and that book did not show up. So, maybe less than two weeks ago, he mailed me another copy, this time to my P.O. Box.

The very next day, the book that he had sent three months earlier did arrive at my house.

And now the one that he sent to my P.O. Box arrived, but since it does not fit into my box, I had to stand in line to pick it up.

As I waited, I saw this dog, a helper dog. When he lady and the dog left, I wanted to call out to her, to stop her and have her tell me something of this dog's story and what it does for her.

But I did not want to lose my place in line. I did not want to annoy the people in line behind me.

So I did not call out.

The two walked out the door and I have seen neither since.

Someday, maybe.

Scenic view in the vicinity of the Little Susistna River and the Manvil H. Olson Bridge as seen through the window of a red Ford Escape, # 1: the river itself.

Scenic view in the vicinity of the Little Susistna River and the Manvil H. Olson Bridge as seen through the window of a red Ford Escape, # 2: trees above the bank of the river.

Scenic view in the vicinity of the Little Susistna River and the Manvil H. Olson Bridge as seen through the window of a red Ford Escape, # 3: the bullet-pocked sign put up in honor of Manvil H. Olson, for whom the bridge is named.

Scenic view in the vicinity of the Little Susistna River and the Manvil H. Olson Bridge as seen through the window of a red Ford Escape, # 4: a tree on the river's bank is reflected off the dirty window of a school bus.

Scenic view in the vicinity of the Little Susistna River and the Manvil H. Olson Bridge as seen through the window of a red Ford Escape, # 5: queue of mailboxes just across the bridge.

Scenic view in the vicinity of the Little Susistna River and the Manvil H. Olson Bridge as seen through the window of a red Ford Escape, # 6: the river itself, as seen while crossing back over the bridge.

I had another one of those nights that I could not sleep and so, at too early of an hour, gave up and went and had breakfast alone at Mat-Su Valley Family Restaurant. 

Readers will note that in the recent past, it was very dark outside during these breakfasts - and that was true even if I went late.

Now it is light.

Yep. The season of darkness is over for this winter.

By the way - Jobe and Kalib are here. Reader friends can visit them tomorrow.

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