In remembrance of Soundarya, on her 33rd birthday...

While this post is dated April 12, the day that it now is here in Alaska, in India, it is now April 13 - the birthday of my late Muse and soul friend, who was Soundarya Ravichandran when I first met her and became Soundarya Anil Kumar on the day that I took this picture.

Muse - soul friend - beloved by all who knew her - remembered today, her 33rd birthday, and every day. Seen here with sister Sujitha (Suji), left, and her Aunt Vasanthi - early on the morning of the day that she would marry Anil Kumar, another beloved who we also continue to mourn. In the background is her cousin, Buddy.

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Makiah in her blessing gown - the one her great-great grandmother hand-stitched special for her just 76 years ago

On March 9, I introduced readers to Makiah Young and contemplated giving myself an assignment - but was reluctant to, out of fear that I would not follow through. Makiah is the daughter of the daughter of my first cousin and lives only 25 miles from our house, yet 25 years had gone by since I had last any contact with her immediate family.

Then, cousin Mary Lynn informed me that she had come to Alaska from Idaho for the birth of her new granddaughter, Makiah. Margie and I then had dinner with them, I took a few photos, blogged the experience and then pondered a new assignment: to do some photos of Makiah every month from then on. In this way, I could ensure that I would stay in contact with my newly-rediscovered family members.

Yesterday, Makiah went to church in this white gown, hand-stitched by her great-grandmother Bonnie in Canada 76 years ago, just for her and there got blessed in it.

In addition to being sewn just for her, the special blessing gown was also sewn just for her father, Dan and older sister, Melissa, who also received their baby blessings in it - along with a host of aunts, uncles, grandfather and other relatives. 

It can be presumed that many more family babies will be blessed in this gown in the future.

I did not attend the blessing, which took place at their local Mormon chapel early that morning, but did make it to the afternoon dinner held in Makiah's honor.

I felt it necessary to open this series with a photo that showed the gown in its entire length, but when one points his camera at a baby who looks so precious as does this one, one feels a desire to come in a little closer - even if that means cutting off part of the gown.

Oh, heck! I must come in closer still. Too precious! Too beautiful! I can't stay back.

And now look - her little hand grips a much larger thumb, attached to hand shaped and hewed by many decades of life, weather and work. Whose hand could it be?

Why, it's Don Young! No, not that Don Young. Don Young, her grandfather from Canada. Don was also blessed in this gown. It was he who brought it all the way to Alaska from Ontario, Canada, carefully pressed and packed into a hand-carry package adorned by a rose.

Grandfather Don Young caresses his little granddaughter as his son listens to a guest who came with an array of non-pause stories about canoe trips local and on the Yukon, precarious mountain drives with RV's left to hang over cliffs, caribou hunts and teepee-like tents slept in all the time at 40 below.

Makiah's mom was not blessed in the gown, but on her blessing day, a baby simply must be pictured in the arms of her loving mother.

As much as I want to, I remain reluctant to assign myself to a monthly photo of Makiah. I know that, no matter what, there will be some months when it won't happen, no matter what I assign myself to do.

But I am going to try for monthly when practical. When not practical, well, hopefully, the next month.

After I left and began the drive down the hill, I came upon this raven.

Then, after reaching Wasilla, I had a nightmare, which is fear is about to come true.

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Kalib rocks in the canoe, Jobe rocks on the piano and then they are gone; fantasies of life as a dedicated and successful "Grampa Blogger"

Yesterday, I posted but one picture and a bit of text, noting that even as I did so, I was hearing the sounds of Kalib and Margie outside and I wanted to go see what was up.

After I made that post, I went outside and this is what I found.

Kalib, in the tiny remnant of this season's pitiful snowfall - perhaps the least that we have seen in all of our 30 winters here.

I mentioned the sound of him tapping a canoe with a stick? Actually, he was filling the old, green, Coleman canoe with rocks. We must drain this water out of it soon, before it becomes a breeding place for mosquitoes.

We kept the boys with us all day so that Jacob and Lavina could accomplish all that they needed to accomplish before they had to go to airport to board the plane and begin their trip to New Mexico/Arizona. We brought the boys home a bit after 8:00 PM. 

Jacob was still at work, working on a project he had to complete before leaving. Lavina still had much to do, including some shopping.

So Margie and I told her we would come right back after we a paid a visit to Larry Aiken at the hospital. 

That is what we did - although Larry was in deep and needed sleep and never knew we had come.

Soon, Jobe was rocking up a storm on his little piano.

My goodness! This tot has talent!

Those were actual notes that he played, several at a time.

The boys with their mom, not long before their dad came home. I think this would be a good one to make black and white, but I don't have time right now.

This morning, the rock-filled water in the canoe had frozen over. Lavina sent me a text from LAX, where they have a long layover before continuing on to Albuquerque. "Kalib loving all the planes... he's screaming "jet" for all to hear!"

For awhile, I was getting worried about whether or not Kalib was ever going to start talking. It seemed to me that it was taking longer than it ought to. But now he is talking all the time.

I cannot understand everything that he says, but I understand a lot.

Like, when we drove them home the other night, the light turned yellow on us at the awkward time - the time when you are not sure if you should continue or stop, because it is that close. I decided to stop, and so stopped quickly.

"Gosh, grampa!" he said.

Then I bought him an ice cream cone at McDonald's and handed it over the seat back to him. It was kind of stretch and I did not know if he could reach it.

"Can you get it?" I asked.

"I get it," he answered. And he got it.

Last night, just before we left them, his dad had returned. They had been playing with a toy shark maybe three inches long, but it disappeared.

"Damnit, Daddy!" Kalib swore.

This time, I'm not teasing, either.

That's really what he said.

"Damnit, Daddy!"

Damnit, anyway. Now they are gone and I am not going to see them for at least three weeks, maybe longer. Maybe a month. They will only be gone for two weeks, but I will be gone when they get back.

Sometimes, I think maybe I should just drop all other ambitions and be a full-time "Grampa blogger." There's lots of "mommy bloggers" out there, you know, and at least a few of them have figured out how to make a very good living doing it.

If I were a grampa blogger, I could be at LAX with them right now, waiting to board the flight to ABQ. 

And then I could go tag around with them in ABQ. I could then follow them to Lavina's childhood home in the Navajo Nation, where they are going to help shear sheep. Oh, the photos I could take! Next, I would follow them to the White Mountain Apache Res, where grandma is going to go down and meet them, too; where everyone but me and a few billion other people will get together in Carrizo Canyon on Easter Sunday, have an Apache style cookout and hunt Easter eggs.

These are the kinds of things that I could be doing, right now, with my grandsons, if I were a dedicated and successful Grampa blogger.

I think my love and dedication for and to Alaska ought to be clear to anyone. But I would really like to be there for that sheep shearing. I would really like to be there for that Easter Egg hunt. And one time, in Albuquerque, Lisa and I paid a visit to the acquarium.

Oh, my goodness! Kalib is going to go nuts when he sees those sharks swimming around! "Shark! Shark! Shark!" he will be hollering. Jobe will watch the sharks in quiet fascination. He will study their every move and gesture.

And if I were a dedicated and successful Grandpa blogger, I could catch it all.

And then we could return to Alaska. Jobe will really be walking by then. We could go hiking. We could go canoeing. I could begin to show my grandsons this great place they call Alaska. I could take them to Prince William Sound when the Copper River King and Red salmon come in; I could take them to the Arctic Slope to witness the landing of a whale by their large adopted family, onto the Yukon to see fishwheels turning. We could do it all, my grandsons and I - if I could but be a dedicated, successful, Alaska Grampa blogger.

I wonder why I never thought of this before?

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Lazy, Saturday feeling prevails

The question is, what am I doing in the house right now? Margie and Kalib are in the backyard and I hear happy sounds coming from back there, as well as the sound of a stick occasionally bumping a turned-over canoe, and of water splashing.

Yesterday afternoon, I drove into Anchorage to pick Margie up at Jacob and Lavina's, where she had been baby-sitting all week, not to bring her home, but to take her on a date - out to a movie, to dinner - and then drop her back off until late late tonight, just before Jacob, Lavina, Kalib and Jobe catch their flight to Albuquerque.

But, things worked out differently than I had anticipated and I wound up bringing my date home with me - along with two little boys.

Having a desperate need to do so, l slept in very late today and it was good.

Now I have a very lazy Saturday feeling. Margie and Kalib are in the backyard.

I have a bunch of pictures sitting in front of me, waiting to be edited, processed, placed in this post and written about.

But I am not going to do it. Not now.

Instead, I will just post the first picture that I took after I left to pick up Margie and take her out on a date:

Pioneer Peak, looming above.

Maybe I will post some of the others later.

Maybe I won't.

We will see. For now, I am just going to go out into the backyard and see what kind of commotion Kalib and Margie are getting into.

Jobe is napping in his cradleboard. Caleb is in the house to listen, should Jobe wake up.

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Metro Cafe - six studies from breakfast: the barista, the banker, the young entrepreneur, entrepreneur's mother, the church and the mountain + Carmen, of course

Caleb had just returned from his night shift at Wal-Mart and had already turned the TV on when I got up. I thought about cooking oatmeal, but the only way I can truly enjoy breakfast at home is if it is very quiet in the house and I can sit on the couch near the backdoor window and glance out at the woods every now and then as I eat.

This does not happen very often, because Margie and Caleb are morning TV watchers and one or the other of them usually beats me to the living room and even when I am first, the TV often comes on before I have taken more than a bite or two.

That's one reason that I really like to breakfast at Family Restaurant - there is no TV there. There are people walking in and out, fragments of conversations drift through the air along with the clinking of silverware against ceramic and  sound of waitresses laughing even when the jokes are not funny.

Then, of course, the Family breakfast is just plain good.

As Margie has been in town all week to care for Jobe, I had so far eaten breakfast thrice at Family and once at home - yesterday. Yesterday, I simply had to eat oatmeal. My body demanded it.

Today, I decided to have the simple Metro Cafe breakfast - a sandwich with ham and egg, a bagel with strawberry cream cheese and, of course, the best coffee in Wasilla.

Through the course of my breakfast, I shot six studies. The one above is the very last of the six studies that I shot, but, as it is a study of beauty, so obviously backed by intelligence, and everybody loves to look at beauty, it is the study that I will begin with. Hence:

From Inside the Metro Cafe, Study #72,629: Nicole, the morning barista, whom I never see during my regular afternoon coffee stops.

From Inside the Metro Cafe, Study #6.2: Nicole and the banker. Yes, I am told, the man at the window works as a banker, for Wells Fargo.

From Inside the Metro Cafe, Study #4698: Mitchell Slater, the young entrepreneur.

Mitchell, who will soon turn 18 and will also graduate from Home School, has already begun his own advertising business, which he calls Alaska's Affordable Advertising.

Some time back, he discovered Metro Cafe, fell in love with the place, the coffee and Carmen (as does just about everyone who discovers Metro and then gives the out-of-the-way-place a chance) and so decided that he would her promote it. Now he is helping Carmen put together a coupon promotion.

I will save the details for him to advertise in his promotion.

From Inside the Metro Cafe, Study # 10: Carmen discusses coupons with Mitchell, the Young Entrepreneur, as his mother, Nancy, and Nicole, the barista, observe.

From Inside the Metro Cafe, Study #9, #9, #9, #9,#9, #9, #9, #9,#9...: mother Linda admires her son, Mitchell, the young entrepeneur as Carmen smiles at him and Nicole, the barista, studies a draft menu made out of the goodness of his heart by Jim, the man owned by the dogs who showed up at the drive through window in yesterday's post.

From the parking lot of the Metro Cafe, study number 96: A car and two churches, one made by the hands of man, the other by the hand of God.

Still pending - the Metro study series that I shot as seen through Nola's new camera. Although the series is now history, I will still run it, because it is a fun series - and it is history and history should be told.

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