goodbye to Alaska

I tried to avoid Christmas. I was leaving a few hours into December 27. I had a million things to do and far too many people to say goodbye to.

This had been my home for 15 years. I wasn't at all sure that leaving was what I wanted.

But Christmas has its own plans. December was even more beautiful than usual in Anchorage. Someone started hanging ornaments on the trees in the University Lake dog park. Many others were inspired to add to them.

Linda, Marge, and I started watching "A Christmas Carol" on television. The 1934 version, and the Muppets, and Bill Murray, and the great Patrick Stewart. Then Doreen contributed perhaps the greatest version - Mr. Magoo. It was a wonderful Christmas.

The next night at the airport was hard. Rocky cried as we handed him over in his crate. Sookie screamed and panted until I was sure she would die. I clung to Linda and sobbed all the way through security. The TSA people handed me tissues.

It seemed only a few hours, then I was in Orlando and Bonnie and Jim were there to meet me. I picked up the dogs within minutes. They were calm and mildly happy to see me.

Florida

good weather for Snowzilla

Its been cold. Now, those of you who don't know Alaska may say "duh - Alaska -cold in January?". But Anchorage usually has pretty nice winters. Not as cold as Berlin NH or Fairbanks AK. (I have wintered in both of those places.) Not as snowy as my hometown of Rochester NY.

But the last 10 days have been cold. Highs of 0, lows of -25. Our usual crystalline winter days obscured by ice fog. Not like Fairbanks' -50, but inconvenient and unpleasant.

Nonetheless, Christmas and New Years have been wonderful. And Snowzilla has flourished.

Snowzilla became part of Anchorage winters three years ago. A neighborhood eccentric built an 18 foot snowman in his yard full of derelict vehicles and assorted trash. The story was (inexplicably) picked up internationally. Crowds swamped the pretty little subdivision (including me and my sister and nephew) posing for pictures.

This year, in the week before Christmas, local officials served Snowzilla's creator with a court order forbidding the snowman as a danger and a public nuisance. On the evening news, the fellow said sadly that he would comply. The next morning, low and behold, Snowzilla stood tall. A Christmas miracle!

Aalskans sprung into action to defend a person's right to build gigantic snowmen. See www.snowzilla.org for pictures of tiny snowman picketers at City Hall, carrying signs like "Snowpeople have rights too" and "Obama save us".

Last weekend I rounded up some neighbors and went to visit Snowzilla. He was as awesome as ever. I don't think anything could make me happier than a giant snowman.

English as a second language

This sign, around the corner from home, has pleased me for two years. It advertises a small, inexpensive hotel that caters to Alaska Natives in town for visits, medical care, or shopping.
I suspect a Yupik or Inupiat speaker started this. Then at least one, and maybe more, people for whom English is a second language got involved in the production process.
"Conscious", after all, is a good thing in a motel.

Happy Thanksgiving from Alaska

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=z-kjM1asH-8

Fortune Cookie Chronicles

I am fascinated by Jennifer 8. Lee's book, The Fortune Cookie Chronicles - the history of American-Chinese food.

I love the parts about the sophistication of "chop suey" restaurants in the 20's, the menu wars, the "Golden Venture" disaster, the nasty General Tso chicken, and of course, the mysterious attachment of American Jew to Chinese food.

Remember "Network"? "Jews know two things - Chinese food and suffering".

All this makes me think of my own personal history with Chinese food. It was a long time coming. I have dim memories of my Uncle Don (the educated member of my mother's family, he'd been to Bible College somewhere in the Midwest) telling us about a trip to a Chinese restartant. "They just kept bringing platters of pork and shrimp and vegetables," he said. My mother, with her nose in the air, "If you are willing to eat things like that".

Then there were the meals Suzanne and I shared in the dim recesses of the local Chinese restaurant in Rutherford. It had a generic name - maybe China Rose or something like that. The intimacy of passing the little metal teapot. The takeout iced tea and eggrolls in the hot Jersey nights.

The Yorks cooking Japanese food and guiding us through Chinese restaurants in New Jersey, New York, and London.

And the excitement of Szechuan and Hunan food in the late 70's. Sensations I had never imagined. The glory of HOT!

Not to mention "the you no like" phenomenon that tormented me in NYC's Chinatown in the early 80's. I DO LIKE chicken feet and sea cucumbers.

Maybe we should add the chicken who played tic-tac-toe in Chinatown for over 20 years. Yes, the same chicken. Birds are long lived unless you eat them.

But Jennifer really should add a chapter about Chinese restaurants in Alaska. How every town with a population greater than 400 has a Chinese restaurant. How they are all run by Koreans, and how they have only begun to offer Korean dishes in the last few years. About the practice in Bethel (western Alaska) of including fortune cookies with every order - including cheeseburger and fries.

Then there is the passion of Eskimos for sushi and sashimi- but that is a whole different story.

This book is much too short.

must be the scary sweater

Walking the dogs the other day, Sookie slipped away and I heard her barking. I turned around to see her nose to nose with a yearling moose, barking ferociously and advancing on him. The moose was backing away cautiously and politely.

This was a young and small moose, no more than 500 pounds. Sookie weighs nearly 10 pounds.

I called her and she came running back to me. She danced on her hind legs and waved her front paws in the air and told me she had saved me from the Big Dog.

It's been snowing for a week and today it started to look serious. The leaves are still on the trees but we might not see earth again until May.

Tundra swans

These two stopped at an Anchorage lake a week ago for a vacation before they continue south.

Garrison Keillor

Garrison Keillor came to town last week and I was awfully glad to see him.

I've been listening to that voice for 30 years. Now I don't have a "bucket list" of people to see before they die or I do. All last summer I was irritated by displays of books like "1000 Places to Go Before You Die". I don't want anyone telling me what I should do with the rest of my life. What I should read or who I should see live on stage.

I was irrationally pleased last month when one of the authors of "1000 Places" fell on his head in his home and died at age 46.

But I have always wanted to see Garrison, and here he was in my own town with a one man show. First, I was just grateful for someone saying kind things about Alaska. (With all the media coverage of Sarah, you would think there is something wrong with people who shoot and eat moose.) Garrison says he loves Alaska, and reminded us of things we do all the time (like float plane trips or meeting moose on the trail) that are once in a lifetime experiences for visitors.

The he spent over an hour weaving a story of many old and a few new elements from Lake Woebegone. There were the Sons of Knute giant duck decoys, the Lutheran pastors on Wally's pontoon boat, the 53 Chevy septic tank and the homecoming parade, and Bruno the Fishing Dog. This was interwoven with tales of two characters I don't remember hearing about before and one wedding and one funeral intersecting with all those familiar elements. Hot air balloons and gigolos and bowling balls and parasailing.

Then Garrison talked a little about the nature of storytelling. He reminded us that we have our stories too. "I'd like to hear your story," he said. "Maybe someday you will sit next to me on the plane. Say Anchorage to Seattle. That should be enough time for me to hear your story."

So I've been thinking about the story I would tell him on the plane ever since. I've decided to go traditional and tell my "coming to Alaska" story. Most of us have them.

Mine is the best story of my life. I've told it often. Now, approaching my fourteenth winter here, I imagine telling it to Garrison on the 12:15 am flight to Seattle.

horrible things in the garden

Its official. We had two days of summer - when summer is defined as a day when the temperature reached or exceeded 70 degrees F.

And it has rained. And rained.

Usually the gardens can count on endless sunshine, warmth, and few bugs. Too little rain, so watering is important.

When I lived in Juneau there were slugs. Huge, colorful characters. Juneau is Pacific Northwest rainforest, complete with banana slugs and other large and alarming creatures.

Most years in Anchorage, I have seen two or three slugs a season and ignored them. They were welcome to a bit of the garden.

This year, my little walled garden is dank with mold and moss and slimy with slugs. Hundreds of them. They ate the dahlias right down to the ground - no small feat when you think how fast dahlias grow around here.

And now they are breeding. Like most invertebrate sex, this is complicated and I'm not sure I understand it. I do know they are true hermaphrodites, and I find them linked together at two orifices. I don't dare look closer. The thought of another generation next summer alarms me, so I have been hunting them (easier now that they are two by two) and dropping them in a tub of salt.

This is uncharacteristic. I like invertebrates in general. Echinoderms are my favorites in the world, of course. I remember the movie Microcosmos featured sex between two slugs or snails that moved me to tears. I have just stuck that disc in the DVD player to try to recapture my usual tolerant self.

I'm just cranky because there was no summer.

Sarah!

There was the excitement of the announcement, the ambivalence, and then the hurtful nature of the press. Alaska bashing. New ways to trivialize women.

I didn't vote for Sarah, and I won't be voting for McCain-Palin. This is a small state (in population, not area). We meet our governors at the airport and picnics and (unless the governor is Murkowski) we get to know and like them. Talk to them.

Sarah is smart, tough and thrilling. I trust her, I admire her. Don't underestimate a woman who shoots, fishes, flies, and raises five children. Maybe running the PTA is adequate training for running the world. No one has tried it before. This is the first lactating vice-presidential candidate we are talking about.

Maureen Dowd was snarkier than usual today. I resented her characterization of Alaska as an "overgrown igloo" and Sarah as a "Cinderella chick flick".

The most painful parts of this are statements like "she is a hero because she gave birth to Down's syndrome child". That is little Trig they are talking about, and we are very protective and proud of him here. Not because his mother didn't abort. She never described the experience in those terms. Sarah and the First Dude presented him proudly and spoke candidly about the prenatal diagnosis and their efforts to come to terms with it. They never presented their experience in political terms.

I am horrified at the implication that a feminist pro-choice Democrat would automatically abort in those circumstances, Someone like me. If I had been lucky enough to be pregnant at 44, or any other time, and learned that the baby had Down's, I never would have considered abortion. There's nothing wrong with people with Down's. Trig is a beautiful baby and an Alaskan. He is not a pro-life icon and Sarah has never suggested that.

Now I am unexpectedly excited about the Republican convention. I am even distracted from "Nixonland".

thoughts on weather and dogs

Gloomy summer headed toward infamy
CHILLY: Anchorage could hit 65 degrees for fewest days on record.

Snow on the mountains this morning. I didn't actually see this because the skies were so overcast. But here is the Anchorage Daily News photo. With a long story about how this may set all records for the coldest and rainiest summer ever.

Everyone complains about the weather. But to put this in perspective, we had snow from early October through late April last winter.

Summers are usually brief but so glorious that no one is ungrateful enough to complain. This cold, overcast drizzle is hard to take.
___________________

Last night I watched a documentary on suicides from the Golden Gate Bridge. I'm not sure why - I think Netflix told me I would like it. In a way I did. The bridge was so gorgeous against the sky and the water. There were interviews with the families of some of those who died there. These were people with severe and long-standing mental illnesses, and the stories of their lives were more painful than the stories of their death.

One couple described the unbearable story of their son's life and death in a dozen different scenes. In each scene, they were sitting on a comfortable couch in a cozy living room with their dachshund.

The dog moved back and forth between them. Each person petted him, rubbed him, cuddled him. The dog sat quietly, or rolled over to show his belly, or carefully licked their hands. He never barked or made eye contact with camera.

I tear up thinking about the dog. He was a working lap dog, providing comfort to people who were suffering an intolerable loss. Working with tact and skill. A heroic little wiener dog.

I want a bumper sticker that says "lap dogs are working dogs too". Mine do their work with great dedication and sensitivity.

Rocky once gave me career advice. I was working a nursing management job with 24 hour call and lots of clinical time. (Except for working all the time and being paid less per hour than any of the people who worked for me, it was a wonderful job). One night I came home late as usaul. While I was making dinner, Rocky went into the closet and got up on his hind legs to get to my parka. He took the beeper out of my pocket. Then he hid under the bed and chewed it to pieces.

The next morning I went in to work and turned in the fragments of beeper and my resignation.

Everyone should have such a good dog.

4th of July in Alaska

The Fourth is always a big holiday here in Alaska. In the gold mining days, the mine closed only for Christmas and the Fourth of July. Every town celebrates with enthusiasm, but Juneau's holiday is my favorite.

I flew down Thursday night and got to my friend Alena's house in time to mix a batch of margaritas and watch the fireworks from her living room. Perfect view out over the harbor.

Then the parades. There are two parades every year, the first in downtown Juneau and a second smaller parade in the center of Douglas - the island across the bridge. Parades included pipers, a Tlinkit Elvis, and a pack of marching pugs and their humans.

This year I've been thinking about how much the Filipino communities in Alaska add to the Fourth. The best float (Anchorage). The best marching band (these eagle-costumed folks in the picture in Juneau). Then, of course, there is the traditional Fourth of July lunch of chicken adobo, steamed buns, and panncit.

Fifteen years ago I had never eaten any of these wonderful foods. Moving to Alaska was like moving to New York only better -
diversity and great stuff to eat!

halibut is here

The vernal equinox is also the time the first fresh halibut of the year hits the market.

What a wonderful fish! Mild, sweet. It can be cooked any of hundreds of ways and they are all good. Halibut is one of the best parts of living in Alaska.

spring really is coming

Linda has a south facing exposure, and her bulbs are always the first out. Look!

Spring in Alaska is much better than spring in New England. The days are long and usually sunny. Breakup happens with thrilling speed. There is no mud season - just a few days of floods and excitement.

the best Iditarod ever

http://www.adn.com/2693/story/342356.html

I know I said that last year. But really, seeing Dee Dee and Paul in the early leads, friends Jim Lanier and Robert Buntzen having such good runs.. And the trash-talking but gentlemanly stuff between Lance Mackey and the great Jeff King... and Lance's second win! The second time this crazy man and Larry, Hansom, etc won both the Yukon Quest and the Iditarod back to back,,, what a thrill!

The teams run at night because days in the Arctic this time of year are too warm for the dogs. During the Idtarod I often dream that I am on the trail. I see my dogs ahead of me in the light of my headlamp.

Last night I dreamed of Lance running through the night. I was amused when four different people told me of similar dreams.

Imagine all of us dreaming of Lance as he runs...

Good dogs!

Iditarod start

On a perfect spring day I volunteered at the take-out for the ceremonial Iditarod start. Over one hundred teams came through, including the absolute heroes of Alaska, Lance Mackey with Larry, Hansom, Rapper, and Hobo.

I also make an exception for celebrity breast cancer women and even pink ribbons for Dee Dee Jonwroe. Here she is signing autographs. Pink was her trademark long before she had breast cancer - even her dogs' harnesses are pink. I hope she has a great run. to Nome this year.

way too cold for little dogs

Too cold. Sookie, even with layers of coats and little booties, can't come to the dog park with us. The temperature has hovered around
-20 to +10 for weeks. I'm not complaining. It's been -50 to -70 in the Interior. And I used to live there, and I've experienced those temperatures. For seconds at a time, it's thrilling. You wonder, "Will I survive? Will I be able to get to work? Will the planes fly today? Can I breathe? Why does the sky look like that? Look, ravens can fly."

But for most of the day, cold like that is grueling. You wear so many layers of clothes that you can go outside and survive. But it takes so long and so much energy to get dressed that there is nothing left to DO anything. On Saturday afternoon you think "Should I go out to a movie? Is it worth the discomfort and the very real risk? Or should I just sit here and admire the chickadees at the feeder? Watch the moose graze along the path I shoveled?"

Anchorage isn't so bad. And we are up to more than 8 hours of daylight.

Plan B

I watched "The Simpsons Movie" on DVD this week. Its not as good as the average television episode, but I loved it when they moved to Alaska. They were homeless and penniless when Homer announced, "I always knew I would need a Plan B for my life eventually" and pulled a big poster of Alaska from his pocket.

Yup, it was just like that for me.

Lovely weekend

The Sox clinched. And maybe the Indians? I would have enjoyed another Sox-Yankees playoff , but the Indians are really cool this year.
The first killing frost and the first snowfall last night. The air was delicious today and the sky was brilliant.
It is wonderful to snuggle with the dogs at night. I haven't closed the window yet.
I am struggling to realize that I have to spend the rest of my life being treated for breast cancer. In return, it won't kill me. But given my fears of health care and medicalization ... I don't like it.

fall in Alaska

This is our shortest season and some years it doesn't come at all (sort of like spring in New England). The days are less than twelve hours and disappearing rapidly. Still, it is beautiful. The mountain tops white with snow, the tundra below bright red, and gold on the lower slopes. Mainly a silver and gold palette - perfect in moonlight.

We have not yet had a killing frost. The perennials I cut down weeks ago are regrowing and the nasturtiums and tuberous begonias are still spectacular.