Yearning for a Snow Day

We've had snow here for over a month now.  In all, we have close to a foot of snow on the ground, and thick patches of snow on the branches of all the spruce trees.  As we don't really get wind here, it always feels magical outside and all cozy inside.



This has me yearning for a snow day.  You New Englanders know them well.  They are the truest gift of time, where the day can be filled with knitting and cooking and no guilt that you really should be doing something else.  But alas...

One of the things about working in Alaska's school system is that people are accustomed to driving in the snow.  Everyone has snow tires or studded tires.  Even the school buses have chains for the tires.  The DOT trucks throw gravel on the road instead of salt and sand.  Kids go out for recess until the thermometer hits 20 degrees below zero.  Winter is a fact of life.  It's half the year up here.  All of that means we don't get snow days.

Not never... last year right before Thanksgiving we had this freak warming in the night, so instead of snow it rained.  But the ground was still frozen, so the rain froze instantly on everything.  And then the temperatures immediately dropped to below zero again.  There were two inches of ice on the roads and no way to treat it, because salt doesn't work below a certain temp.  So we had two days off.

Unfortunately this is a rarity and I have had no anticipation of something like that happening again.  That is, until Friday, when we received multiple emails from principals informing us of a fast developing storm that might bring up to 2 feet of snow Sunday night, with gusts of wind up to 55mph! "Don't forget your phone tree" and "Review procedures for delayed openings" my bosses declared.  And there it was....that familiar flicker of excitement and possibility returned to my belly.  Hope.  I remembered longingly the feeling of the phone ringing at 5:30 and sitting up and cheering, before even answering it!  Is it possible I could receive this glorious gift of time?

It's not looking too promising.  The weather advisory has been taken off NOAA's website.  Snow is "likely" with the possibility of freezing rain.  In Alaska, just snow isn't enough.  My hope lies in the freezing rain.  The only downside is the freezing rain and wind will take away my magical treescape outside.  So I guess there'd better be a snow day to make up for it!

Wanting Memories

I'm spending the morning listening to the radio and preparing stuffing.  The turkey is still frozen (again) though not to the crisis level of last year.  Maybe next year we'll finally be able to properly defrost a turkey in time for Thanksgiving!  So the turkey is in a tub of water.  I have onions and celery chopped for the stuffing and am sauteing chorizo for the stuffing as I type.  Everything I am cooking this year I have made before, so I wanted at least one new recipe.  I got this recipe from NPR.  I'll let you know how it turns out!

Lee is out running last minute errands - trash run, water run, and last minute Fred Meyer run.  Just got the phone call.  Every store is out of sage, so the stuffing will be sageless.  Oh well.  I'm sure it will still be tasty.  Or not.  Such is life.  

Me, I'm enjoying the quiet of the morning, listening to a concert on NPR with a men's vocal group.  They just sang Wanting Memories, originally written and sung by Sweet Honey in the Rock.  If you don't know the song, go to itunes and download it pronto!  It's beautiful and matches the mood of the morning.  

I am missing home this holiday.  The past few days I've been very teary, missing my family, my Meme's cooking, just the joy of everyone coming together, too much food, fun conversation, my mom, uncle Mark and Auntie laughing in the kitchen - they have great laughs.  I miss snuggling on the couch with my cousin.  It's the first time since we've been out here that I've truly missed it.  I even tried to get our guests into the tradition by asking them all to cook.  It didn't work, and really wasn't fair.  They are all bringing things, which is generous.  I think I wanted to try to replicate that feel of everyone coming together, working together to make it special.  

I also feel very blessed this morning.  I have wonderful memories fueling me through the morning.  And I have the most amazing husband.  He's been so loving these last few days and helpful without blinking an eye.  Our home is cozy and clean - such a blessing!  The light outside is dim and grey, but inside it's warm.  I feel grounded in cooking and dancing and listening to music.  We have guests coming over at 1:00, who will be happy to come together, missing their families as well.  We'll be spending our time playing Settlers of Catan.  No football or parade for us, as we have no TV!

Sending wishes for a wonderful day to everyone.  Here's hoping it's a day that makes many memories for you and yours. 

Alaskan Lingerie

This weekend it got chilly, down to 20 at night!  This prompted me to reach into my drawers of winter clothes and pull out my Alaskan Lingerie - the Flannel Nightie!

Here's a picture.  I'm not wearing it because that would be just too racy for the internet.

It's long - almost to my ankles, and has this lovely, simple ruffle around the neck.  You know, so as not to reveal too much.

On top of the obvious sex appeal that the grannie nightie - I mean, flannel nightie - brings, it has the bonus of being toasty warm.  Which, in Alaskan winters, is a must!  Function meets fashion.  Who could want anything more?

Spinning At Last!

For my 30th birthday (almost two years ago - yikes!) my parents generously fulfilled my birthday wish by giving me a beautiful spinning wheel.  It's a Kromski Minstrel in Mahogany stain.  A beautiful, compact, double treadle wheel, it fits perfectly in our small cabin.  However, I had never learned to use it, until this weekend.

The wheel did come with an instructional video.  Both Lee and I watched the video and tried to make it work.  It didn't.  I couldn't get the flyer to take in the yarn at all.  It was frustrating, and frankly, I really didn't understand how the whole thing was supposed to make yarn.  It didn't make sense.   So the wheel sat as decoration in our home back in NH, occasionally being treadled for fun.

When we moved to Fairbanks, I found a store here called A Weaver's Yarn that offers spinning lessons.  But I never felt we could afford it.  So I survived the winter content with knitting.  A few days ago, however, while out running errands, I turned down the back road where A Weaver's Yarn is located, on a whim, and ended up signing up for my private lesson.  That lesson was yesterday.

After two hours, I now understand how the wheel works.  Well, at least enough to make it take up the yarn.  My yarn isn't pretty yet.  But I'm getting there.  My assignment is to practice for 15-20 minutes each day until my next lesson, where I will learn to ply my singles that I create with my 15-20 minutes of daily practice.



I'm super excited to have a new pastime for the cold winter months.  I'll be busy with knitting and spinning all winter long!  I think Lee might be a little worried...

Cranberry Pickin'

It's that time of year in Fairbanks when the cranberries are ready for picking.  Last year we did no berry picking - we didn't know where to find them.  I was afraid that this year would be the same, with the plants in our backyard only producing a few handfuls.  But then Lee and I went for a walk on labor day.  I can't tell you where.  Real Alaskans don't reveal their prime picking spots (hence not knowing where to go picking).  But we went for a walk on a hill near town.  It was a place I'd never been.  As we walked down the trail, the woods to our left opened up to reveal a grove over grown with lowbush cranberries.  It was a sight to behold!  But alas, we were without containers, so had to return another day.

That day came on Thursday.  The week had gotten away from us and I was worried the berries would all be gone.  Surely someone else must know about this place.   At 7:30 at night, we got in the car, berry container in hand (old milk jug with the top cut wide) and returned to our secret spot.

Now, the sun has begun setting earlier and earlier, so we had about an hour and a half of usable daylight.  I hurried down the trail, not waiting for Lee as he took pictures of the sun setting on the golden birch trees.  Seriously, man!  We have berries to pick!  As I was walking (jogging) down the trail, I heard rustling in the trees next to me.  Some one was in the trees picking cranberries!  Crap!  I thought.  There really won't be any  left.  But she wasn't in our grove, so I kept on jogging.

I found our grove and lo and behold, it was still chockerblock full of cranberries.  We picked until it was too difficult to see in the dim light.


Aren't they sweet?  Juicy too!  The knees on my jeans were all red with berry juice from kneeling.



We left with a gallon of cranberries picked only in an hour!  Pretty impressive, I'd say.  I'll be going back again this weekend in hopes we can get more.

In the meantime, we have a gallon of cranberries frozen in the freezer.



And a new book on Alaskan wild berries and how to cook them.

A different kind of bravery

I haven't had my hair cut in almost a year.  It was getting really long.  Like, ratty long.  I needed a cut.  We live in Alaska.  Plus, I couldn't afford a cut.  Do you know where this is going?

I asked Lee to cut my hair for me.  No big deal.  Take off four inches.  Make it straight.  Easy.

I was wrong.  He took off at least seven inches.  It's really short.  Much shorter than I wanted.  Lee declared at the end of the saga that we were never doing that again.

I thought I was being Alaskan.  It was brave of me.  Now I need to access a different kind of bravery and feel okay with my new short haircut.

The End of the Summer

It's the end of the summer.  Fall is in the air.  I am knitting again, and dreaming of all the projects I want to cram in before the real cold sets in.  I realized the other day that my knitted hat basket doesn't have nearly enough hats!  And now that I've learned to knit mittens, I need to stock up on those as well.  

Knitting isn't the only sign.  I find myself curled up on the couch reading cookbooks, wanting soups and chowders.  On Sunday I called my mother at least five times to share a recipe with her (now that our freezers are chocker-block full of Alaskan salmon that WE caught!) 

I have jazz on the radio (which is fall music only).  

School starts in a week.  The newspaper is full of fliers for back to school sales and this Sunday's paper had the school bus schedule.  

But most notably, the air is cooler.  Lee and I have the windows closed most of the day.  We are wearing our slippers and sweatshirts.  We cover up with blankets on the couch.  Lee even wore his hat all day yesterday!  

There's a sadness that comes with the end of summer, a feeling that it's time to hunker down, work hard, store up to survive the long winter.  That feeling is more stark here in Alaska.  While I'm sad at the end of relaxation and having to go back to the grind of work and school, and I'm sad that our summer vacation with Mom and Dad has come and gone too quickly, I am excited for fall.  It's my favorite season.  We get to start feeding the birds again.  The foliage turns all beautiful, different from home, but still spectacular.  We get to wear woolen goodies.  We get to snuggle more.  

So we'll spend the next week trying to squeeze out a few more summer moments.  But then we'll plant the fall spinach and kale, put up the canoe and go back to work.  

Belle or the Beast?

Remember that scene from Beauty and the Beast where Belle is out in the winter garden feeding the birds and they come right to her hand?  And then later Beast is out there with birds perched all over his head and shoulders?  I'm not sure if this story makes me Belle or the Beast - I'll let you decide.

I was just sitting out on our deck enjoying the calm after a light rain.  The birds were everywhere singing up a storm.  Otis was in the tall grass, pretending to be a hunter.  Because it had just rained, I took out my camping chair to have a place to sit that was dry.  I was on the edge of the steps, sitting still and relaxed when I heard fluttering of wings behind me.  Very close behind me.  And then I felt it - gentle, light, clenching claws on the back of my pony tail.  Now, my reaction was not of calm oneness with nature - I wish!  I tensed right up and starting quiet-yelling "Ahhhhhhh ahhhh ahhh."  So the bird flew away.  I saw it.  It was a little black junco.  One of the many flying around, not at all afraid of Otis.  I guess he wasn't afraid of me, either.

I think my lack of grace in the situation makes me more like Beast....

It Looks Like Rain...

About an hour ago, Lee looked out the window and said, "Wow, it looks like rain!  Look how dark it is outside!"

Now, back east, our first thought would be, Let's make sure the windows are closed!  But not here.  Lee said, "I'm going to go out to the outhouse before it starts to pour."  To which I replied, "Good idea!  Me too!"

We walked out to and returned from the outhouse dry.  Now it is pouring outside.  And we don't need to pee.  This outhouse thing takes planning!

I've Returned!

Hi everyone!  I'm back after my science camp hiatus.  Science Camp was the hardest job I've ever had (minus that one waitressing job in Portsmouth where the computer screens were weird colors and the waitstaff never helped me but I was always supposed to help them - I quit / was fired).  Seriously, Lee and I worked between 80 and 90 hours a week for four weeks.  Seven hours a day with kids and no breaks, then many more hours into the evening for planning.  And working with kids is a whole different kind of exhausting.  One that I am used to, yes.  But not one that Lee is used to.  I think that part was the hardest.  Although, he managed a couple of posts this past month, and I did not.  So I guess that makes me the lame one.

Anyway, Science Camp is over, we are on a bit of a vacation that so far involves a little bit of cleaning, a little bit of knitting, and a lot of Otter Pop eating.  It's also going to involve running, as I've decided to begin running.  When we went camping with the kids, we played all kinds of capture the flag and elbow tag.  The running actually felt good!  Now, just running down the road isn't nearly as fun as elbow tag, but it will feel good.  If I could organize daily games of elbow tag to get into shape, I would. But I only know like four people in Fairbanks, and I'm pretty sure they wouldn't be as excited about elbow tag as I am.  So running it is.  Watch me go!  Woosh!  (Well, maybe put put put from all the otter pops).

It's The Little Things....

There are so many things that one becomes accustomed to in their home town/region that you wouldn't even imagine it could be different.  We've experienced so many different parts of life out here on a grand scale, that sometimes the little differences get overlooked.  So let me share with you something little that is different about living in Alaska.  It's something I don't understand and haven't yet figured out how to manage with ease.

It's the butter.  Butter here is sold in sticks.  But not long skinny sticks, like back home in New England.  No, the sticks are short and fat.  Now, you might not think this is a big deal, but it really is because the stick of butter doesn't fit in the butter dish.  It is too fat and the butter dish lid gets suspended in the air.  So when I add butter to the butter dish, I must cut it into pieces and turn it on its side so that the lid of the butter dish fits.

What I don't understand is, don't people in Alaska use butter dishes?  I actually suspect that this is a west coast thing, as the butter we buy comes from California or Oregon.  So the real question is, don't people on the west coast use butter dishes?  There seems to be a flaw in the manufacturing of west coast butter.  Are there special west coast sized butter dishes that I haven't discovered yet?  Seriously.  It's the little things that throw me for a loop.

Happy Mother's Day

Me and my Momma on my wedding day. (Photo by Rick Kloeppel)

Yesterday was Mother's Day, and I spent the day wishing I was with her.  Alaska has been an amazing adventure, but I miss my mom so much.  Being far away has been hard.  We still talk on the phone all the time, but it's not quite the same.  Yesterday, I called my mom multiple times to chat.  I wished I had been able to be there in person to give her a great big hug and thank her for being the best Momma a girl could ask for.   I love you, Mom!  Sending hugs across the miles.

Fairbanks Clean-Up Day

Across the city on Saturday, Fairbanksans pitched in to clean-up.  Now that the snow has melted (that's right, folks!!) the multitudes of Carl's Jr. bags, Taco Bell wrappers, and cigarette packs littered on the side of the road have been revealed.  So there is lots of cleaning to do!  Lee and I pitched in.  We cleaned up a strip of roadside on Farmer's Loop.  It took 2 hours to fill three big garbage bags and drag up two tires.  It felt good.  Lee was feeling stressed as this is finals week.  But he was a good sport and did it anyway.  Gotta love my husband.  While I know he thought it was important to do for our new community, I think he really did it because it was important to me.  Feeling pretty lucky (and really excited for the semester to be over!).  Here he is.  Isn't he handsome?



And here I am.  Notice the awkward bending?



Yeah, that's because of my choice of clean-up pants.  I guess I didn't think it through very clearly.  Every time I bent over, I crescent-mooned the passing cars.  Note to all you would-be trash picker uppers - wear elastic waisted pants!

Making New Friends

Boy, do I have a story for you!  Three nights ago, I was lying on the couch reading and dozed off.  Lee had taken the car out to take some pictures, so I was home alone.  Suddenly, I was awakened by a rapping at the window.  I opened my eyes, a bit confused, to see our neighbor standing at the kitchen window, knocking.  Our neighbor is very nice, but she never comes over.  So I walk (read, stumble - I don't wake up well) to the door and open, at which point Patricia says, "There's a Buffalo in your yard."

Now, I was still groggy from my nap at 9:30 at night, and was confused.  What day was it?  More concerning, what time was it?  (Still light out) And we don't have Buffalo (Bison) around here.  The nearest herd is 100 miles southeast in Delta.

Patricia, her friend, and her father were all there on the deck and the stairs, peering around the side.  So I peered too.

And there she was.  A real Bison.  Standing next to the bikes.  I, of course, let out a few expletives.

As the scene unfolded, Patricia called Animal Control, who directed her to Fish and Game.  Neither organization was concerned.  "Is he attacking anyone or damaging anything?"  "No."  "Then there isn't anything we can do."

It turns out the buffalo wasn't alone.  Joining her in our back yard was a big black bull.  (Of the Moooo variety, not moose.)  And then we saw the tag on the Bison's ear, and realized she wasn't in the least bit concerned with our presence.  We deduced that she must belong to the family up the road with many acres, 30 dogs, a couple of horses, and multiple "KEEP OUT" and "No Trespassing" signs.  The dogs had all escaped a few days prior,  so perhaps this pair had as well.

I got Lee on the phone, who promptly laughed when I told him there was a buffalo in the yard.  I had to really convince him it was true.  He raced home, and as he turned down the street, as if on cue, the Bison and the Bull turned and walked back into the woods in the direction of the home we think they escaped from.  Lee went running after them into the woods with the camera, but didn't have any luck.

Don't you worry, though.  Because the pair apparently liked their visit to our little patch of grass so much that, Friday night, they returned.  And we got some excellent pictures.











I've made a friend!  She really liked me.  I've named her Cindy Lou.  

An Ode to Grass

Ah, grass.  I was beginning to think you never existed here in Alaska.  I thought it was all a dream, a hope perched high on the shelf to help me survive the arctic winter.  But alas, you are real. You have been revealed beneath almost completely melted snow after seven months of harsh winter.  And though your shoots only flicker a hint of green from years past, soon you will be green and full of wonderful grassy smells.  Even now, I can smell the soil that holds your roots in the warm sun.  Yes, my friend, once the sogginess subsides, I will be able to lie on you, and picnic, and squeeze you between my toes.  Your fortitude and will to survive inspire the poet within me. Thank you, dear friend, for returning.

On my walk...

Here's what I heard on my walk this evening:

1.  Sled dogs barking non-stop.  (Why do they do that?)

2.  An owl hooting.  We have an owl in our woods.  Lee has heard it the past few mornings, but by the time I get out of bed, the owl has gone to sleep.  But he was hooting tonight!

3.  What could have only been a moose in labor.

Here's what I saw:

1.  The sunset.  Lavender, orange and slate.  Gorgeous.  And at 8:45 p.m.!

The Poopsicle (aka the Stalischite)

WARNING: This entry discusses the less romantic side of dry cabin living in Alaska. If you are easily grossed out, you may wish to wait for the next entry. If you are intrigued, please read on.

It took so long to happen, I honestly forgot about it until the other day when I went out to the outhouse at around noon. The sun was high and shining into the outhouse for the first time in months. And there, in the hole, was this big brown thing. It made me jump, I was so startled. I thought something was in there, like an animal, or a log. But then I remembered. The mythical poopsicle, or the term I prefer, the stalischite.

Now I know that you have all become so accustomed to indoor plumbing that this may not make sense, so let me spell it out. Having an outhouse means, when you go to the bathroom, it doesn't go anywhere. It just sits in a hole. When that hole gets full, someone comes to suck it out. Having an outhouse in winter (when it doesn't go above freezing for 4 months) means, when you go to the bathroom, it sits in a hole, outside and freezes. When it is frozen, someone can't come and suck it out. So all winter you add to the frozen pile. Now, I'm not sure I completely understand the physics of how this tower of poop becomes so tall and skinny, but it forms. And the only thing to do, before it comes poking out of the toilet seat, is to knock it down.

We've been working hard to make this little cabin our home. We brought up a carload of stuff, my parents have sent many many boxes of stuff, and we have purchased some stuff. But a big move like this means you don't have something in the shed to grab, like a shovel or a 2x4, that you can use to knock over the stalischite. And seriously, the idea of dishing out money to purchase a shovel for the sole purpose of knocking down frozen poop seems just wrong. Which brings me to the amazing DUMP. (haha!)

But seriously, folks, I'm talking about the trash dump. Well, the transfer stations, but we call it the dump. Here in Fairbanks, trash pickup is only reserved for homes that live right in town. We live on the outskirts of town, so we drive to the transfer station to drop off our trash. But it isn't just a place to drop off trash bags. No, it's a second hand shopping mecca. There is a structure with a roof and no walls, where people drop off their unwanted goods in hopes that someone else might want them instead. And folks, there is real pride in finding treasure at the dump. It's like The Boxcar Children! Back in the fall, Lee and I popped in to look around and found over 20 physics text books that someone left. Many of them were books that Lee wanted but couldn't afford. Let me tell you, it was a find! Another time, while I was testing a little girl at school, I told her I liked her sweater and asked if someone had knit it for her. She replied, "No. My mom got it at the dump!" To which I replied, "What a find!" (All I can say is, thank goodness I read The Frozen Toe Guide to Real Alaskan Livin' by Brookelyn Bellinger before beginning work.)

But I digress. My thought was, there is NO way we are buying a shovel to knock down the stalischite. Let's go find something at the dump. So we did. There wasn't much there that evening. But there was an old patio umbrella with a long pole. Lee pulled off the attachement, and we now have a stalischite pole leaning against the outhouse. And no stalischite. Lee knocked it down. That's a man's job.

Dusting off the Ole' Skis

Back when I worked at EMS (which is also "back when I was slim" and "back when I first met Lee") I purchased a pair of Rossignal back country cross country skis, bindings and boots for the whopping great deal of $80. That's right! They were on triple clearance or something and I thought, I'll start cross country skiing. Well, I can only remember using them once, falling like two thousand times, and giving up.

Here in Fairbanks, Cross Country Skiing has a different appeal. Everyone does it! And seeing people out on skis is inspiring. In the summer, people ski on those wheely skis on the bike paths. In the winter, there are trails everywhere. EVERYWHERE!! There are trails at Birch Hill, UAF, Creamer's Field, Goldstream, and in - drum roll please - OUR BACKYARD! That's right folks. We can literally walk out the door, put on our skis, and go. And there are miles of trails. If I was capable, I could ski all the way to Creamer's Field. But, as "back when I was slim" implies, I am not capable. At least not yet.

So yesterday, Lee and I stepped outside and went skiing.

I should clarify, though. I went skiing. Lee doesn't have skis. It makes him very sad.

I have to say, I was nervous. As I said, the last time I tried cross country skiing. I fell a lot. So I was honestly worried I would fall, and fall and then fall again. Knowing myself, I would start to get really frustrated. But, guess what? I only fell once! It was right at the beginning and I lost my balance. I lost my balance many times after that, but I was able to save it the other times. Don't worry. Lee captured the fall.

The trails behind our house are multi-use trails. But they are mostly used by the Sled Dog Association that is located up the road from us. We didn't see any sleds yesterday - the races happen on the weekends - but we stayed to the side just in case. It was a truly spectacular day. The sky was blue, the sun was shining, it was 20 degrees out, (that's above zero) and the breeze felt fresh and good as I was sweating up a storm.

I'm glad I finally got out on my skis (thanks Dad for sending them!) and that I finally explored these trails in our own back yard. I'll be out a bunch more before the snow melts. I'm told we have through April. And while I cannot wait for Summer and grass and sunlight at night, I'm glad I have a little more time to get better at Cross Country skiing!

Knitting Up a Snow Storm

It's been snowing all weekend. Yesterday morning we woke up to fourteen inches of freshly fallen powder. It's the most snow we've had in one shot since we arrived in Fairbanks. Usually it snows an inch here, or a couple of inches there. And as the temperature never goes above freezing, the snow accumulates. But 14 inches in one night? This was a big snowfall! Lee actually had to shovel the walkway to the outhouse (we usually just pack it down). The snow is up to my mid thighs as I walk to the bathroom.

I'm off yesterday and today - I don't work during parent-teacher conferences. So I'm catching up on some much needed cleaning and knitting. I have a basket in the living room dedicated to knitting projects that NEED to be completed, as in, I was supposed to give these as Christmas gifts. So I am knitting on this snowy day. All weekend I've been knitting, and have successfully finished three projects. It feels good to get these done. It's like I am spring cleaning. Having unfinished things weighs on you, even unfinished knitting projects. I can't wait to finish these so I can start some new things without the guilt!

Ribbed socks for Lee - Now his toes are toasty!

Once summer comes, I won't have time to knit. I'll be hiking and canoeing and gardening in the midnight sun (I've started day-dreaming already). No time for wool (well, maybe from 1 am to 2 am). So I'd better not linger here too long. Back to the needles I go!

Watchin' the Birds

When it's chilly outside, and the snow is falling, I look forward to the quiet of curling up on the couch with a mug of tea and watching the birds flock to the feeders out my window. My dad loved to watch the birds, as did his father. I love it too. Back in NH, we had the usual cadre of tufted titmice, nuthatches, cardinals, chickadees, juncos, blue jays and sparrows. At our home in Dover, we were sometimes treated with a visit from a pair of blue birds.

I miss the pleasure of watching all the different birds fly in and out over the course of the day. While Alaska is known for its great variety of bird species, most of them migrate in the winter. So our feeder only gets visited by the brave chickadees (black-capped, boreal, and chestnut) and redpolls. While I am grateful for their visits, I do miss the variety.



Well, a few days back Lee and I were watching the redpolls come to the feeder. They tend to eat off the ground and only steal a seed quickly from the feeder. But that morning they were resting, so Lee was getting some pictures. All of a sudden, this pair of amazing colored, odd-beaked birds flew in. I can't tell you how excited we were! Such nerds, we ran for the Alaska Bird Book to try to identify them. They are, as it turns out, a pair of white-winged crossbills. And from all accounts, somewhat rare to see. They usually stay in the tops of trees, eating cones, and you know they're around by their song. I'm not sure what brought them down to our window, but we sure are happy they decided to stop by!



The male was so funny. He kept trying to figure out the feeder, flying around trying to land. He was a little too big, so when he finally did manage to stay on, he couldn't get the seed. I love this picture Lee shot. The crossbill was watching the redpoll, trying to figure out how he did that!



And of course this picture is spectacular. It was at least 20 below outside. I love that you can see her breath, and the definition in his wings and beak. But the magic of the snow falling in the sun behind them is just perfect. It really was that kind of morning.

Oh Mr. Sun, Sun, Mr. Golden Sun

Yesterday morning, Lee and I woke up at 8:30 and dim light was shining in the window. Hallelujah! Sitting on the couch this morning, it was shining in my eyes. Even sitting at the computer now I can feel it on my face. It even almost feels warm... almost. It is -25 out. But there is hope. We are leaving darkness. In two months, most of the snow will be gone (yikes! that doesn't sound as hopeful as I thought it would!) and real warmth from the almost 24 hours of sunlight will be here. Then I can start growing monstrous cabbages!

One thing is for certain in Alaska. When the sun returns, it comes back fast and furious. We are already at 8 hours of sunlight, and by next week, we will have almost 9 hours!! This is an amazing difference from the 3 hours we had at the solstice. I can't wait for the Spring Equinox!

Weekend Getaway

This past weekend, Lee and I had the pleasure of staying at Chena Hot Springs Resort. A friend's parents won a free stay, but it was about to expire and they weren't able to use it in time. So they offered it to us and we gladly accepted!





It was a truly relaxing weekend of bathing in the hot springs and bathing in the hot springs again.



The interior of Alaska, as cold as it gets, is blessed with many hot springs. At Chena, there is a large pool they have called Rock Lake. (It's behind these frosted trees - see the steam?) You change into your bathing suit in the locker room and then leave your towel inside (it would freeze if you brought it outside). Then, you venture out into the cold in your bathing suit and flip flops. On Saturday, it was 30 below outside. The pain of being basically naked and in -30 degree weather doesn't last too long. You walk 40 feet to the lake's ramp. Steam is rising all around and your feet go into 140 degree water. A little ouch at first but once your whole body is in - man is it heavenly! Of course, your head is still in negative temperatures, so the rising steam freezes to your hair and eyelashes and eyebrows. Lee's hair froze solid into little spikes that you couldn't bend! It was very funny. In the Rock Lake, they have colored lights that give the pool the feeling of being in the Aurora. Unfortunately, the real aurora didn't show. But it still felt wonderful!



The next day our car wouldn't start - it got down to 45 below in the night and the resort apparently doesn't have enough plugs. So while the staff was trying to plug everyone in with extension cords, Lee and I went for a walk. There are quite a few hiking and skiing trails around the resort so Lee and I set out to explore. It was still -40 out. But running helped keep my toes warm! Here I am running down the mountain!



Lee and I are hardcore Fairbanksans! We run and hike when it's -40!


We had a great, relaxing weekend. Looking forward to the next one!

The Visitor

After vacation, I started working a second job - I teach in the after school program two days a week. It's fun and a little exhausting, but we are on such a tight budget, that it's worth it. The kids are wiggly and don't like being first-time listeners. (My Maple Wood peeps would be so proud to know that we are practicing first-time listening and every time they are first-time-listeners, they earn a tally. One-hundred tallies equals computer games for the whole 45 minutes!)

So all that leads me to my story. Yesterday the students were fully engaged in being first-time listeners when the program coordinator came in to tell me that there was a Moose on the playground. A very large Moose. On the playground. At the school. In downtown Fairbanks. Not the outskirts of town. Dead-center downtown. This meant that the buses would be picking up kiddos at the front of the building instead of the back.

Now imagine, New Englanders, if a moose was on the playground. Imagine the reaction of the kids, and the teachers, and the administrators. I did, and I was reminded of the time there was a chicken on the playground at one of my old schools and no one could leave the building and animal control was called...

Now let me tell you how my 1st and 2nd graders reacted. And please remember that they were fully engaged in good listening and heard everything the program coordinator said to me.

They kept working. They didn't say anything. No excitement, no running to the window to see if they could see. No fear. Nothing. They just kept working. Well, except for one little guy who is a little quirky - he just kept reminding me to take the bus kids to the front of the building because of the moose. And that was it. Dismissal went smoothly. The kids weren't wound up. A teacher stood at the back door so forgetful kiddos wouldn't accidentally run out. That was it. After an hour, the moose was on her way. And that, folks, is what happens when a Moose wanders into downtown in Fairbanks, Alaska. People say, "Eh." and move around it.

Happy New Year!

3...2...1... Happy New Year! I'm sure this post will find many of you recovering from a night of partying! Here in Alaska, Lee and I celebrated in our usual low-key way. We went out to dinner at a Thai restaurant we heard you could see the fireworks from. We ended up not being able to see the fireworks from our table, but the atmosphere was lovely - they turned off the lights and we ate by candle light. We then stopped by the liquor store on our way home to get a bottle of champaigne and some chambourd to add.



Then we toasted in the New Year here in our little cabin.



Lovely, really.

Outside you could hear fireworks coming from all over the city. They seem to party it up here in Fairbanks, with four different sets of official fireworks throughout the night. No Partying for us. We were tucked in the woods together.

Traditionally, Lee and I always spend New Year's Eve together just the two of us because it is the anniversary of our first date. That first New Year's Eve together, we went out to Pawtuckaway State Park in the middle of a major snow storm, walked to the climbing area down icy trails, carrying a bottle of wine and a pomegranate, falling the whole way. In the dark of the forest, we knew it was midnight when we heard the distant explosions of fireworks celebrations. We kissed to ring in the new year, and the rest, as they say, is history.

Last night reminded me a lot of our first New Year's Eve together. It snowed, though not as much, and we were tucked in the woods. And it was our first time ringing in the new year as a married couple. Good omens abounded. Right after midnight, Lee came rushing in because there was aurora. We haven't seen the aurora in months. The clouds parted and the sky lit up green on the horizon, ushering in the new year with it's own fireworks display. A sign it will be a good year - I'm sure of it!


Cheers, everyone! Hope you all had a wonderful New Year's celebration.