My fairweather biking friend; off to a glacier to cook ice worms; cat on a stump

With the good weather that we have had lately, I've been out everyday at coffee break time riding bikes with Mr. Shadow.

He is good company, Mr. Shadow - but only in fair weather.

When the weather is bad, he tends to desert me.

Mr. Shadow: my fair weather friend.

So I bike to Metro Cafe and there I find short Carmen, being hugged by tall Sarah. Tall Sarah has come to say goodbye, because she is leaving for Skagway, where she will spend the summer on a glacier, cooking for people on tour.

She didn't say, but I believe Sarah will be cooking ice worms for her guests. Ice worms crawl around on the glaciers by the multi-millions. A cook can just step outside the cook tent, scoop them up, throw them into the vat and boil them up.

Put them in tomato sauce and they look just like spaghetti. So I think is what Sarah will do. She will cook the iceworms and then tell the guests that it is glacier spaghetti.

"Hey!" one of her guests will invariably shout, "This is the strangest damn spaghetti I have ever tasted! Tastes like worms!"

"Eat your damn spaghetti and quit whining!" Sarah will shout back.

The guest will eat it, too, but will mumble to himself, all the way through.

Back home, I hang out with Jim.

It seems odd to me that some people probably look at him and see just another cat. 

I look at Jim and see a friend. A close, close, friend who hangs out with me every day, from morning until night and then through the night - unless I am traveling of course.

Margie reports that he can hardly bear it when I am traveling.

When I return, he goes a bit insane. He jumps onto me, clambers all over me, jumps off, jumps on, clambers, jumps off... maybe 50 or 60 times.

Unlike Shadow, Jim is not a fair weather friend. He is an all weather friend.

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iPhone shadow portrait of Margie and I approaching the movie theatre; Kalib and cousin Gracie, cooking eggs down in the Navajo Nation

Sometimes, no matter what one is working on, the soul begins to feel overwhelmed and kind of dead from hours and hours and days and days and weeks and weeks and months and months and years and years of time spent sitting where I sit right now, peering into a computer screen.

It happened last night. My soul became overwhelmed to the point that I simply could do it no longer.

The only thing that I could think of was to go to a movie. But I did not want to drive to Anchorage, the new theatre they are building in Wasilla looks complete but is not yet open, the older theatre here is tiny and sticky and awful and one can get proselyted there and it is no place to go for an enjoyable evening of relaxation.

I checked online to see what was playing in Eagle River, but the indication was that the Eagle River threatre was closed for some reason.

So I did not know what to do. I just did not want to drive all the way to Anchorage, where we still have another free movie coming at Century 16 - thanks to Melanie.

But then Margie argued that we could just drive to the very edge of Anchorage - the close edge - where stands the new Tikahtnu Stadium 16 theatres and pay for the movie ourselves. We would not really have to drive into Anchorage at all. It is not that hard of a trip just to drive to the edge of Anchorage if you do not then venture in to the wild and wooly city.

So that is what we did. Without even checking to see what was playing and at what time, we just got in the car and drove. We left Wasilla about 7:20 PM and arrived at the theatre about 8:00 PM - right between the main showing times.

So we bought tickets for the 9:15 pm showing of Lincoln Lawyer, and then went walking into the nearby new mall, which neither of us had explored, found a place called PHO Saigon, and went in. We ordered an appetizer of 3 spring rolls and one noodle plate, which we shared between us.

I didn't take any pictures, because I had left my camera hidden in the car, but the food...

I'm going back!

Really good.

Then, a few minutes before nine, as we walked back to the theatre and on the wall I saw us, just like this.

And me, without my camera! Then I remembered that my iPhone has a perfectly decent little camera and so I did the self-portrait.

We enjoyed the movie, too. We ate too much popcorn - especially after PHO Saigon.

This morning, I was awakened to the sound of text messages coming into my iPhone. Lavina was sending me pictures and a movie from Shonto, Arizona, in the Navajo Nation of Kalib teaching cousin Gracie how to break and cook eggs.

So here they are, and I am pretty sure that is Elias looking on.

I then got out of bed and came into the kitchen wanting eggs, but Margie already had steel-cut oatmeal cooking and it was just about done.

So I ate it and it was good.

I still have a hankering for eggs. Maybe for lunch.

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An ugly/beautiful fish gets plucked off the glass and is put to work; Roy Ahsoak and Ben Hopson at the beginning of a long drive

Those who knew my blog back during the time that Jacob, Lavina, and Kalib lived with us, before there was a Jobe, will remember that Kalib loved my fish. Every night, he had to feed them. So, when the family moved into a home of their own, I gave Kalib one of my 55 gallon tanks to take to his new home.

He was very fond of "Bobby" - the name he gave the big plecostomus that lived in my 90 gallon tank, so I gave Bobby to him as well.

And for all that time since, there has not been a plecostomus in the 90 gallon tank. The water inside has been kept clean and good, but there had been a bad algae buildup on the inner tank walls, which kind of mucked up the whole viewing experience.

So I finally went and bought a pleco from my local fish dealer, Alaska Reef and Freshwater. At first, Sergey, the owner and founder, tried to catch it with a little net, but couldn't. He gave up, plunged his hand into the tank, grabbed hold of it, pried it off the glass...

...and pulled it out.

He opened a bag...

...and put the pleco in it. He then put this bag into another bag, filled with air, just in case the pleco should poke a hole in it.

And here is the pleco, finally cleaning the algae from my 90 gallon tank. The pleco is observed by my ten or eleven year-old parrot fish who I bought as a baby all those years ago.

I love that parrot. He is friendly and smart and I will be sad when he dies. He is getting old.

In about two days, I expect the walls of this tank to shiny clean, free of algae.

This morning, Ben Hopson and Roy Ahsoak stopped in Wasilla at the beginning of a three-day drive that will end in Barrow, hopefully Sunday afternoon. We had breakfast together at Subways, courtesy of Roy.

I know - some of you are wondering... how can they drive to Barrow? No roads lead to Barrow. There is a road that goes to the Prudhoe Bay oil fields and there is a temporary ice road that is made by spraying water onto a Rollagon path across the tundra that leads all the way to Barrow.

Temperatures along the route are still dropping to as cold as -30, but the thaw is coming and so the road will be closed for the season April 20.

It is not a good idea to make such a drive alone, so Roy and Ben will be meeting Clancy Itta in Fairbanks and he will drive to Barrow with them. I think there might be a third vehicle in the caravan as well.

The new truck and boat belong to Roy. He was planning to leave the boat in Prudhoe Bay and then come back and pick it up in the summer after the ice goes out, but, if the weather and driving conditions look good, he just might take it all the way to Barrow.

By air, 850 miles separate Barrow from Anchorage - where they began. The drive, of course, will be more than that, but I do not know how much more.

If I had this blog to where I would truly like to get it - if I could make this blog my livelihood and do with it what I want to do, I think I would have jumped into the truck with them and then blogged the whole experience.

That would have been fun.

Safe travels, Roy and Bennie.

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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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The other day at Metro Cafe - a bunch of serious, intellectual, studies

Now that I am riding my bike to Metro Cafe most days, it is hard for me to shoot "Through the Metro Window" studies because I am mostly inside. Still, I can shoot studies of various inside kinds. Studies are, by definition, intellectual works of art and some might think it would be easier to shoot intellectual works of art from the outside and that is true, but when one is shooting intellectual works, "easy" does not factor into it.

One must really work the brain, and it is hard and challenging. Still, I am up to the task. So, I now present you with a bunch of serious, intellectual studies that I shot the other day after pedaling my bike to Metro Cafe:

Serious Intellectual Study from Inside Metro Cafe, #222: Study of the young writer, Shoshana, Branson and Diane, #4: The place was hopping.

Serious Intellectual Study from Inside Metro Cafe, #422: Study of the young writer, Shoshana, #670: Carmen puts earrings to her ears. Branson strikes a serious, intellectual pose. 

Serious Intellectual Study from Inside Metro Cafe, #622: Jeweler Leah, of Leah's Designs, who brought her work to Metro Cafe to put on display and sell. She did pretty good, Leah said.

Serious Intellectual Study from Inside Metro Cafe, #822: As Carmen struggles to get all the ladies present to pose with Leah for a group picture, Nola gets distracted.

Serious Intellectual Study from Inside Metro Cafe, #1022: Just before we were ready to shoot, Carmen had to put a scarf on the Young Writer, Shoshana, Study #12.

Serious Intellectual Study from Inside Metro Cafe, #1222: After a great struggle that lasted 2.46 hours, the serious, intellectual photographer succeeds at getting all the participants, including the three on the TV, to pose seriously and smartly for the study.

Serious Intellectual Study from Inside Metro Cafe, #1422: Branson and his dad, Scot, who had just returned from the Arctic Slope.

Serious Intellectual Study from Inside Metro Cafe, #1622: Branson poses with his red-headed friend known to the world as "Cash"... as in, "Hello, my name is Johnny Cash." I am told that this Cash has been a big fan of that Cash since he first became conscious of such things. Cash's grandma was one of Carmen's wedding attendants.

Serious Intellectual Study from Inside Metro Cafe, #1822: Through Nola's lens - Branson and the red-headed boy.

Serious Intellectual Study from Inside Metro Cafe, #2022: Through Nola's lens: Branson.

Serious Intellectual Study from Inside Metro Cafe, #2208: Cash.

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