Road Block

The other night Lee picked me up from work and we ran a few errands; dinner, Sam's Club for a large doormat, gas.  By the time we got home, it was almost six and I had to pee.  We brought a load of groceries into the house and I ran out to use the outhouse.  Only, there was something in the way.

Well, not technically in the way.  I heard some rustling.  I stopped, listened, then heard it again.  Ahead and just off the trail that leads to our outhouse was a moose chomping on some willows.  She saw me, and kept munching, but I couldn't move forward.  I would have been walking very close to her to get to the outhouse and I would have most likely walked right into her safety bubble, possibly prompting a charge.  I knocked on the window to get Lee.  He came out with his camera and tried to get some pictures.

I, meanwhile, did an award-winning pee-dance.  It was a sight to behold, I'm sure. In fact, I'm pretty sure it's why the moose stayed - it was just so entertaining!  Lee suggested I just pee in the woods.  I said no.  I already have to pee in a hole outside and brave moose encounters.  Peeing in the woods just outside my house would have been too much for my pride.

I finally stepped forward and said kindly to the young moose, "Okay lady.  I'm sorry but I need you to be on your way.  Please come back later."  She looked up and walked away.  Just like that.  Sometimes you just need to ask.  Saying please helps.  And I was able to pee.

A Bad Day in the Dry Cabin

I wasn't really feeling the whole Dry Cabin thing yesterday.  It was -44 and I either ate something bad or had a stomach bug thing because, in the -44 degree outdoors, I needed to use the "restroom" multiple times (of course I did....).  In reality, it could have been just one long visit to the "restroom."  But that would have induced frostbite.  So it was broken up into three visits, with warm-up sessions inside each time that caused fogged-up glasses from leaving -44 degree air and stepping into 68 degree air.

When I finally could take off all the layers, I slipped off my boots and put my feet into my slippers only to find there was snow in there!  With my foggy glasses still foggy, I bent over to grab the chunk of snow and WHAM! Smashed my forehead on the mitten and hat drawer that was still open.  

Later that evening we discovered that the boiling point of propane is -44 (of course it is...).  We use propane to cook.  Our propane tank is located outside.  It was so hard to get a flame for dinner that we didn't eat until 9:30.  

While there are days that I like our dry cabin, yesterday was miserable and I was seriously wishing for modern, non-arctic living.  At least it's still beautiful where we live.  I have to stay positive, because we won't have running water for a while....

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!

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.  

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.

Conundrum

It is supposed to drop into the negative digits tonight, and possibly -35 tomorrow. So here's my question - Do people with outhouses in Alaska wipe with their mittens on?

Who's Afraid of the Dark?

I have a secret, a deep dark secret. Do you know? Can you guess? Well, I've decided to let the cat out of the bag. My secret is, I am afraid of the dark. Irrationally afraid of the dark and all the things lurking in the dark, waiting to pounce on me when no one can see it.

This fear makes winter in Alaska challenging, as it just keeps getting darker, and will be completely dark in a little more than a month. My silly fear complicates things even more when you consider that every time I have to go to the bathroom I must leave our cozy home and walk around the house, cross the back yard, and use our chilly outhouse. Yes, the path is lit with a bright light that is triggered by motion. But it does not light the woods around us, and certainly there are strange creatures lurking in the dark, waiting for the perfect moment to get me.

When we first arrived, and I had to use the bathroom in the middle of the night, I was extremely frightened. Some nights I would just hold it instead of going out in the dark. But then, the sun rose at 5 am, so I could go out then and be fine. Once, I'm ashamed to say, I peed right next to the front deck I was so scared.

But I've gotten better. This is in part, I am sure, to the fact that it is more often dark than it is light. I must get over it out of necessity. So I have a routine. I step out onto the deck, where the first light turns on. I look around to check for moose. Then I go down the stairs and around the house, at which point I stop, and wave my arms and kick high in the air to trigger the next motion light. (You'd think that move would scare away all the creatures, but it never works... they are always there...)I walk the length of the house, past the big pine where the flying squirrel lives, and stop at the edge of the yard. The light illuminates the yard itself, so I look both ways for moose before crossing. Then I walk to the far side of the yard. This part I have down. Go me.

It's the return from the outhouse that does me in. The woods are behind me as I walk back to the house, just what the moose and other creatures of the dark are waiting for. I walk as long as I can, usually until I reach the tree, at which point I remember the flying squirrel that lives there. I break into a run (which is hard in snow boots) and scoot past the tree, lessening the squirrel's chance of landing on my head when he pounces, which he surely is waiting to do. I round the stairs, run up and into the house -safe!

The creatures of the darkness haven't gotten me yet. Who's afraid of the dark? Not me!

Bathroom Brawl... Almost

Because we are without running water, I travel to the university to take my showers. The student union - The Wood Center - has showers available for "university affiliated" persons, which I am, sort of. Let's just say I am. There are two showers of the college dorm variety. Not ideal, but not bad either. I get clean. It works.

Now normally, I shower before I go to work. And always without incident. Often there are others there, also showering before they go to work or class. But yesterday I had the day off. So I didn't go in to shower until around 5:00 pm. When I arrived, there was a young woman blow drying her hair, but both showers were empty. They each have a door that locks, with a sink, toilet and shower that are private. I went into the far shower, and got ready. About five minutes into the shower, I heard some very loud banging coming from what seemed like the other shower. It sounded like someone was knocking on the other door. Strange, but it stopped and I didn't think anything more of it. Until I turned off my shower and heard "HURRY UP!!". There was a woman waiting outside the showers.

Now, my shower wasn't exceptionally long. Ten minutes, perhaps. And the other shower was empty when I came in, so this woman couldn't have been waiting for long. As I dried myself off, she kept complaining. "Come ooooooooon," and "Hurry up!" and "PLEASE." I kept thinking, OK. What am I going to say when I leave? I kept going back and forth between killing with kindness and letting her have it. She was rapping her fingers on the counter, shuffling around outside, and as I opened the door, I readied myself for her to let me know how inconsiderate I was. I was ready for the snide comment she was going to send my way as she pushed past me into the shower.

Instead, I was greeted with a cheery, "Hi! What do you think of this weather? It's amazing how warm it is, isn't it?" I was speechless. And she continued. "Aren't you enjoying it?" (Side note, the weather has been 'unusually' warm - highs 0f 45-50.) I stumbled and said, "Uh, yes. It's great...." She walked into the bathroom, shut the door, and kept talking. "The weather report said it was going to be like this all week," she yelled through the door. Now I was blown away. Did she really think this was normal, or friendly? It was so weird, especially as she was causing such a scene on the other side of the door. I hurriedly brushed my hair, put on my face lotion, and got the heck out of there. I simply couldn't figure out if she was trying to kill me with kindness, or if she was crazy. Then I told the story to Lee. Before I even got to the part where she Jeckle and Hyde-ed me, he said "Was she on drugs?" And the answer was obviously, yes. She was on something.

Moral of the story, shower in the morning when the crazies are still in bed.

Gray Water Fiasco

Because we have no plumbing in our cabin, the dirty water from dishes and such is collected under the sink to be disposed of outside. It has been Lee's chore to dispose of this "gray water" when it is getting too full. Except yesterday morning, Lee took the car to have the windshield replaced, so I had the house to myself. I cleaned, scrubbed, washed dishes, cleaned out the fridge, and heard drip, drip, trickllllllle, drip. The event Lee had been dreading happened - the gray water bucket overflowed and was now spilling all over the cabinet below the sink and onto the floor. I had to skillfully tip the filled bucket into the other bucket and carry the water outside. Then I used 7 or 8 towels to sop up the mess. In the end, it wasn't as disastrous as I thought it would be, but it wasn't fun either. Moral of the story: check gray water before washing the dishes - a habit that must be developed before winter sets in and I can't hang the towels outside to dry!

Dry Cabin Cronicles: Washing the Dishes

As you all know by now, we are living in a dry cabin. The past week and a half has been somewhat easy. I am surprised at how smoothly we have transitioned into this lifestyle. There are many things we still need to figure out, but we're getting the hang of it! I'm actually quite proud of us!

So here's how dish washing works (so far - I'm sure we'll learn new tricks as we go). We have three, seven-gallon water jugs that we collect our water in. They sit on the counter and have a faucet like spout that leans over the sink. This is our faucet. It runs with room temperature water, though, so dish washing requires some finesse.

The main thing about dish washing is to stay on top of the dishes. No more sink-full-of-dishes-from-the-week-to-be-tackled-on-Sunday for us! We must wash the dishes after we are done, or everything crusts up and we don't have additional water for soaking the tough stuff. To wash the dishes, I fill a bowl with water and heat it up in the microwave for a minute. Then I add some biodegradable dish soap and make it sudsy with the sponge. This is my washing soap, and it works exceptionally well! It makes the dishes wet and soapy - I just dip the sponge in the bowl and voila! No need to run the water over each dish first! Actually, I learned this technique from my friend Deanna when we lived in Argentina together. She had spent a couple of years living in Jordan where water was scarce. This was how they washed dishes there. So she had developed the habit of washing dishes this way. And then I began using it until my trusty sudsy bowl broke and I never replaced it. Anyway, now I'm back at it and it works really well. Once all the dishes are washed, then I rinse. We use the coffee pot to make hot rinsing water. As you pour over one dish, the others get some water too. I can easily do a load of dishes with just the sudsy water and the 12 cups from the coffee pot!

And on that note, I'm off to do a load of dishes!

Dry Cabin Living Explained

So one of the biggest changes about our move to Alaska is the living situation. Yes, the cabin is small, but the biggest hurdle is that the cabin is dry. This doesn't mean we can't drink vino! It means there is no running water in the house. Yup. No shower, no flushing toilet. There is an outhouse outside (not quite sure how we'll work that in the winters). And we have to shower at the gym or the laundry mat. To get water, we have to fill up 5 gallon jugs at a water filling station.

So why a dry cabin, you ask? There are a few reasons. In Fairbanks, living this way is fairly common. It's apparently not possible to have below-ground plumbing because of the year-round permafrost. It's not possible to drill wells because there is a lot of naturally occurring arsenic in the bedrock. So keeping plumbing insulated and trucking in water is an expensive ordeal. Because so many people do live in a dry home, there is a good infrastructure in the city to support it, including water fueling stations.

As for our own personal reasons for choosing a dry cabin? It's cheap! It's about half the price of a one bedroom apartment for close to the same space. It's in the woods, which we have been missing. And it's an adventure. If we are going to do this, why not go all the way?

For those of you who are skeptical that it's even possible to live this way, here is a great video by Robert Prince on living in a dry cabin in Fairbanks. His cabin is a one story, two bedroom home, where ours is a two story, one bedroom building. He describes difficulty heating his bedrooms, which worries me. But Lee ensures me that the heat will rise into our bedroom. Let's hope!

Enjoy the video! It's really fun.

Sixteen by Tiny

The countdown is on.... we depart for Fairbanks, Alaska in 14 days! As I am feeling nervous and sad and excited and something else I can't define, I have been trying to focus on how I will make our new cabin feel like home. Here are the pictures sent to us by our new landlord.



The cabin is 16ft. x 20ft. - or as my mother likes to call it, "Sixteen by tiny." Yes, it is tiny, but cozy. I think we can really make it feel like home. Storage will be an issue, as there don't appear to be any closets. (But we got rid of most everything at the yard sale this weekend anyway!) I can see nice rugs on the floor, paintings on the wall, a cozy couch and comfy chair with a big coffee table that doubles as a kitchen table, and fiesta ware in the kitchen cabinets!

We are getting closer to the move and there are a LOT of things on this end that I don't want to deal with. But I think it's a good sign that I am imagining how our new house can feel like home. What do you think?