brownie in AK

C'MON now

2010-05-05T15:25:00.000-07:00

so, i'm tapping away productively at my computer at work and i glance outside hoping to catch a glimpse of the sandhill cranes during their spring migration (I work right smack next to a migratory bird refuge)...and this is what i see:

ummm...snow? actually, i just saw the snow. i made katya go stand out in it so i could take the picture.

for crying out loud, people, it's MAY. enough already. give us summer.

i'm going home to knit. sheesh!

Boreal Hat Trick

2010-05-03T07:37:00.001-07:00

this is an unbeatable combo: wild cranberries, wild blueberries, and raspberries from the yard. a half-gallon each, a little sugar and some pectin...

...a bit of cooking time...

...and you have the Boreal Hat Trick (as named by Cob)! Dea wanted to know how to make jam and i had some extra berries in the freezer from last summer, so we gave ourselves a little reminder of one of summer's biggest treats.

That's Dea doing the sign for berries - we hope to see that one A LOT this summer! :)

two firsts

2010-02-27T10:43:00.000-08:00

two amazing things happened last week. (truth be told, in a house with a 5 month old, amazing things happen all the time, but these two deserve particular mention...)

On Tuesday, Teresa finished her FIRST knitted project. this after a looooooong spell of her claiming that she wasn't interested in knitting, didn't have the patience, was too much of a perfectionist, blah, blah, blah. i patiently waited through these excuses, never once putting any pressure on her, until she came into the fold on her own.

her first project, a beautiful and happy sweater for a lucky little girl! Garter stitch, shaping, two kinds of seaming, button loops - Teresa learned a lot! i think she's hooked - she's got another sweater and two hats on the needles already. here it is in detail:

the other is something i've also been patiently waiting for the right moment ... there's an old knitter's tale that predicts whether a child will grow up a knitter or not, based on whether they grab a set of needles when first presented them. now, babyG's a visual guy and he's the child of two knitters, but you never can tell what a kiddo will do, so i've been worried about this (yes, knitters worry about whether their kids will knit...). so, on the auspicious day of Teresa's first completed project, i decided to peer into the future just a wee bit, to see what might happen. and this is what happened:

and a close-up...now babyG's been working on holding things, but he's never encountered two thin sticks as a challenge to his grasp. i think he did marvelously!

here he is on his own with the needles. i don't know what you see, but i see a little child dreaming of the wonderous things that will one day spring off these needles.

it warms a mama's and friend's heart to see such accomplishments.

lucky

2009-11-18T15:41:00.000-08:00

this is where i sit most days, alternating between sleeping baby and eating baby. if you've talked to me on the phone in the last month, i was likely sitting right here.

motherhood (and cute sleeping babies) takes a toll on getting out and about.

especially at -20F when even inter-species differences are erased in favor of a wood burning stove...

lucky for baby galen, people come here to visit. at 3 weeks, his Bimpy (maternal grandma), who came all the way from the east coast to oogle over him:

then, his auntie Malia, who taught him to smile:

and his Apa, who takes naps with him.

so lucky, this boy.

14 friends, 16 blocks of love

2009-09-21T19:41:00.000-07:00

yesterday, kat asked me and Cob to meet her for lunch. there was a small group of folks who wanted to give us "something." i wasn't allowed to know what it was, or even who constituted the group. i dutifully showed up, snarfed down a pizza while knitter after knitter joined our group and Kat leaned casually against a large-ish box. all of these women are good friends of mine and had apparently been conspiring since May (since MAY, people!) to produce what has to be the most beautiful baby blanket ever made.

14 friends, 16 blocks of love. all individually knitted by women of amazing skill by themselves, much less joined in force to produce Baby's first blanket.

there is no way i could detail every square, but here is a sample of their collective handiwork.

by Maria, felted slipper knitter extraordinaire:

by Dorte Dissing, who's been knitting since she was a kid and (gasp!) can do it without a pattern:

by Kat, who i think i taught to knit about 8 years ago, and whom i now call when i have questions:

by Hope, who taught ME to knit 12 or 13 years ago (and whose method of teaching i still use when i teach now):

and the whole thing -- already doing its job keeping Baby warm and wrapped in stitched love.

a huge purple thanks to Cara, Dorte, Barton, Dea, Kat, Nicole, Maria, Theresa, Ruth, Normie, Charms, Kalin, Hope, and Lynn. i would say that such a project means more than i can say, but i'm guessing that each and every one of you know just EXACTLY what this means to me.

thank you.

here comes the sun

2009-07-31T11:15:00.001-07:00

every year, i try to grow an experimental crop in the garden to see what i can nuture into this world. usually these experiments fail. Cob never misses an opportunity to remind me of the Okra Year, when i told myself that i could convince a plant that has never felt a cool dry summer to produce in sub-arctic Fairbanks. i admit that i fell short of my visions of cases upon cases of pickled okra, one of my favorite things in the world, but i consider it a success that my little plants produced one, very perfect okra. it was good.

this year, you might say i'm trying two experimentals - my sunflowers and you can figure the other one out from this picture.

but check out that sunflower! i'm 5'7" for reference - this thing is a behemoth and its siblings are no slouches either. here's the close-up:

can you imagine a thing of more beauty? it delights me to no end that this was a simple seed in my hand last April. now it greets me out the kitchen window every morning. oh, and the bumble bees like it too. growing sunflowers made me realize why bumblebees are colored the way they are.

some might say that growing sunflowers in the land of the midnight sun is hardly experimental, but it is for me. i don't think the point is to introduce an exotic (like okra?) so much as to do something new, even if it's only new to you.

fingers crossed that my other experimental turns out just as lovely, just as wondrous, just as surprising (but maybe a little less tall and attractive to bees)...

the other white meat

2009-06-16T10:01:00.001-07:00

it's that time of year again...early summer in Fairbanks when the wild roses bloom,

...and the irises unfurl their delicate, ephemeral petals...

...and the pig gets roasted!

The Hollingsworths and friends host an annual pig roast in honor of Jamie's birthday (that's him on the left and that's his pig roaster in action) every mid-June to the delight of a fairly motley group, including me and Cob.

this is Teresa, nothing motley about her - oh no! wife of said birthday boy and hellcat extraordinaire. this belt buckle was actually made for her by one of her grad students - what kind of advisor do you have to be to get THIS as a gift???

the annual pig roast is a true Alaskan event with all the expected trimmings: large quantities of meat, potluck fare, outside with the mosquitoes, lots of kids, and of course, a blue tarp.

me and the birthday boy - with his new flaming suspenders. The Big Guy (what we like to call him) has more suspenders than you can shake a stick at - he even offered me some for when my pants start falling down in a few months! what a guy!

masterpieces

2009-06-05T16:12:00.000-07:00

sometimes, you just have a good week, and no matter what else drags you down, stresses you out, or what have you. 3 excellent things came into my life this week, only one of which did i have anything to do with. regardless of what else is happening, it's important to stop and give these things their due. they are, after all, what makes life worth while.

first, i give you the most excellent pizza pie ever created by a 5 year old boy, my friend Owen. he and his mom, Theresa, came over for pizza the other night, and he showed us how it's done. a little pesto, a little red sauce, a circle of pepperoni, a smaller circle of black olives, finished with a mushroom in the middle.

second, a baby sweater for a friend who gave birth a few months ago. i was woefully behind on this...

...but i think it turned out ok. it is, after all, purple. a nice retro, off-center closure, sure to look dashing on the strawberry blond babe it's headed for.

and finally, after much waiting, my new niece, Marin. she came a little early but not without much fanfare and excitement. welcome, little thing - can't wait to meet you!

masterpieces, i think, all 3.

purling on the porch

2009-04-26T20:27:00.000-07:00

spring has been slow to come to the north land and as most of you know, i'm somewhat loathe to tempt the gods of warm weather when they first show their sunny faces. they seem like ground hogs sometimes, hiding again if you make too big a deal over their early appearances.

so it takes more than a few warm days around here to get me talking about spring. but today, i heard my first sandhill cranes and we hit about 50F at the height of the day, so i'm sure we can't turn back now.

to celebrate, Dea and i spent a chunk of the afternoon purling on the porch, enjoying the warm sun and melting snow.

who cares if the rest of the country has green grass and cheery flowers by now? we work hard for our spring in these parts and sitting on the deck knitting, while watching the snow recede from the yard as cranes fly overhead might just be the best way to spend an afternoon.

masterpiece

2009-03-07T15:13:00.000-08:00

it starts like this:

Scharfenberger chocolate and butter mixed with eggs, sugar, pecan flour, and vanilla. that's it.

after that's all baked and cooled, you pour a spreadable ganache (this time Scharfenberger chocolate, cream, and butter) over the cake to make a glaze.

a few chopped pecans pressed into the sides, a garnish of white chocolate designed with a toothpick, and a ring of fresh raspberries...

and you have a birthday cake! Happy Birthday Cara, and many, many more...

recovery

2009-02-26T18:54:00.001-08:00

I've been down for a week now with a nasty chest cold that has kept me on the couch with Kleenex and cough drops. but today, armored with a bit more energy and inspired by freshly falling snow, i ventured out for a short walk with Nuchie who has been patiently waiting for my recovery.

we started out on a foot trail near our house. I like these little trails where i don't have to worry about snow machines or 4-wheelers and where Nuch and i can romp without ruining ski tracks.

it was slow going. 5 solid days of hacking has left me feeling like someone was squeezing the bottom 2/3 of my lungs, leaving me with little breathing capacity for a hilly trail that really required snowshoes.

but going slow provides other opportunities. stopping to gasp gave me time to look around and see the trail i might have otherwise looked past.

a peeling birch. i mean, how cool is this tree? pretty and good fire starter, not to mention its importance to Athabascan cultures in making birch bark baskets.

the promise of summer in frozen high bush cranberries leftover from last year. these little guys grace many Fairbanks tables in the form of syrup, jelly, and wine every fall. they are part of the bounty we try to keep up with during our short summer months.

i finally made it back home, thanks to the unflagging support of Nuchie, my trusty bad dog. even though it was a short walk, it was good to get outside again and see some of the world's details.

99 bottles of beer on the counter

2009-01-22T23:08:00.001-08:00

i live with a beer brewer. he'd be the first person to say that he's not a "real" brewer (whatever that means), but then he'll break out the 'original gravity' and 'protein break'. if you're not a real brewer, you won't know what those things are. but i digress.

beer has been brewing in my house for the last 11 days. it's happened before and though i get the basics of yeast and grains from my bread-baking days, i don't get beer. it's a mystery to me.

so, for the uninitiated, i watched the process carefully and came up with these easy steps for making homebrew.

1. drink beer. (apparently, brewing begins with drinking. it seems like we're getting a little close to a chicken and egg dilemma, but this is what they did...oh! and you have to look reflective while you're doing this step. very important.)

2. next comes the malt. (I think some grains slipped into that pot while i wasn't looking, but no matter. malt provides the 'body of the beer' - still not sure what this means, but that's what they said...and food for the yeast to make alcohol. this is an important step.)

3. more malt. (because of the importance of this step, i got involved to make sure alcohol happened. you can't leave these things to chance, you know.)

4. drink more. (this actually happened a lot more than portrayed here, but i'm trying to keep these guys looking respectable.)

5. get hoppy. (hops are actually a flower that account for the aromatic bitterness of beer and help prevent it from spoiling. at one point, Cob exclaimed, '14.2% alpha acids, my ass!' which has something to do with the bitterness index of these particular hops. either way, i refer back to my point about not being a "real" brewer.)

6. fermentation in the carboy (notice the vodka bottle...brewing beer requires some obsessive sterilization procedures to avoid creating off-tastes in the beer. this is one that i think may just be to continue with the whole drinking theme. Here, Cob is "sterilizing" his mouth before creating a suction in the tube to the carboy.)

7. [10 days later] bottling. (this is the only part i really understand. beer goes in bottle. cap goes on bottle. clean up kitchen.)

8. naming the beer.

i give you Cold Snap Ale, an IPY IPA (for the non-Arctic types: International Polar Year India Pale Ale).

triple word score

2009-01-18T14:44:00.000-08:00

can you tell we're excited about Tuesday around here?

teaser

2009-01-10T11:51:00.000-08:00

knitters like to share their stuff. get a bunch of knitters in a room and people start pulling out their projects in various stages of completion, even projects that require a guided tour by the maker. knitters can take this leap of creative faith; they are used to things unfinished. imagining the finished product sometimes requires as much creativity of mind as nimbleness of fingers.

the frustration comes when you want to share widely and can't. you create a thing of cabled beauty, glorious even in its incompleteness, and it must remain hidden in the shadows lest its recipient see it.

this is my solution. just a glimpse, a brief and incomplete snap-shot, a fleeting tableau:

this is, by the way, a return to my cabled roots after a long hiatus in the crisp, precise land of scandinavian two-color knitting. let me just point out that it is reversible and the other side is just as pretty.

whew. i feel better now.

Day 11

2009-01-05T22:14:00.001-08:00

cold snap.

warm soup.

Day 11 of this frigid, face-aching, square-tire misery, countered only by a good husband who fixes corn hominy chowder and serves it up with red wine.

Dea rocks the lace

2009-01-04T13:34:00.000-08:00

apparently, lace has nothing on Dea.

less than a year ago, Dea picked up knitting needles for the first time and hasn't looked back since. in all my time teaching, i've noticed that most knitters will fall into one of two camps: those who hesitate to knit a stitch without someone to help them looking over their shoulder and those who throw caution to the wind and knit with wild abandon, no matter the outcome. both paths will produce competent, independent knitters, but Dea definitely falls into the latter category.

it's a pattern in her life, i think:

during her last trip to the Mayo for her continued dialysis treatment, she picked up a lace scarf pattern at the local knitting shoppe. i like adventurous knitting choices and lace is nothing to sneeze at - especially if it's only your 3rd or 4th project.

there were a few bumps and fixes along the way, a few expletives, but Dea always picked the needles back up and climbed back on the proverbial horse.

she was rewarded with this:

dang! what couldn't you do in this world with a scarf like that wrapped around your neck?

new years, lost and found

2009-01-02T15:20:00.000-08:00

New Year's has never been my favorite holiday to celebrate. the expectation, braving the roads full of crazy people, the need to stay up way past my bedtime. ugh. this year, we decided to go gently into that new year celebrating with a few friends, a nice potluck dinner, and some fireworks in our driveway.

it was cold on wednesday night, about -30F in the hills. we're in the middle of a cold snap and it had been cold all week with no end in sight yet.

that's why when a neighbor showed up at our door at 1 am looking for a relative visiting from the south that had been missing for an hour already, we were concerned. being outside for any length of time at those temps requires some preparation and lots of fur - things this woman surely did not have after a night of reveling.

the search continued until about 4 am and eventually involved the police and a canine unit, which was able to track her to the exact spot where she got into a car - an unknown car.

she is fine. some excellent police work revealed that she was disoriented and unable to direct the driver to where she lived, so s/he took her to a local hotel and paid for her room so that she would have a warm, safe place to be for the night.

so, on the first day of this brand new year, i was confronted with the best of humanity. people who care enough to stop and help someone, even if it's not convenient. people who mean no harm and only good. people who will make sure their neighbors are taken care of, even at cost to themselves.

someone i admire recently wrote that she always harbored a funny little belief that the way we transition into the new year sets the stage for how that year will go. i thought i was lucky to have spent a quiet, relaxing evening with a few friends, eating good food, which i was. but i was far luckier to witness real humanity from strangers, as one year passed into memory and a new one unfolded before us.

i will go into this new year remembering that there are far more good people in this world than bad people and that our capacity to care and to be human far exceeds the bad stuff going on around us, though that stuff is surely easier to focus on.

happy new year, all.

stash control

2008-12-23T19:08:00.000-08:00

knitters everywhere share at least one problem: stash control, or how and where to put all that yarn? despite my husband's beliefs, my stash problem is pretty minor as far as they go, due largely to the fact that i haven't been knitting my whole life (just a 1/3 of it), and the fact that we have a deal: the prerequisite of every new yarn purchase is that i have to knit something from the stash.

for me, the stash is not just a thing, it's a place. my stash lives (mostly) in the upstairs guest closet (though it spills into the not 1, but 3 knitting baskets in the living room). when i need inspiration to get through a particularly difficult or boring pattern, the stash is always there for me. sitting among the skeins and hanks can even turn the tide of hard day at work.

nonetheless, i was still losing track of what i had...and where. these brand new cubbies became the answer.

let me tell you, this is a type-A personality's dream. a place for everything and everything in its place. most of this yarn has purpose, or at least i have a faint idea of what i might use it for. some have even cycled through several purposes...though i doubt that would count in my husband's narrow, realistic world.

really, what the stash is -- and why it's so important -- is a big, fat, squishy, warm pile of dreams. dreams of cozy sweaters and blankets that i can wrap friends' babies in...and a purple sweater for me.

dreams of a sweater for Cobbie. dreams of beautiful, ornate (or just plain) socks:

so, if you ever get anything from me, now you know where it came from: my favorite place on earth (except maybe Tangle Lakes - and not just because i can take knitting there).

and because i actually DO do more than just knit...here's a picture of Cobbie skiing in front of me on teh way to P&C's for our usual Wednesday night dinner (the faint lights to the left is their house).

kniterly update

2008-11-24T19:39:00.000-08:00

i spent last night in the most kniterly of ways.

last night, i hung with a wonderful collection of women, all amazing in their own right, good yarn, and a knitting husband.

of course, one must eat first (chicken-saffron soup, bread pudding, pumpkin cheesecake, and cookies for dessert)...

...in order to knit.

yes, this is the famous and talented Subarctic mama. crazy fast that woman is at picking up knitting. it's like she just gets it. kind of like her writing.

now, on to the parade of efforts currently in the queue. yesterday, Cobbie asked me how many projects i had going right now. i couldn't answer right off, so here's my attempt. may i say first, in my defense, that the holidays are near?

socks for the sock-maker. these fabulous feet belong to Theresa and she is THE uber sock-maker. therefore, she needs socks made for her, yes?

spinning a bit for a present that must yet remain unnamed, as its recipient is still in the dark. people, the wheel is next for me, i can just feel it. lord help us all (or at least Cob) if a spinning wheel takes up residence in our living room.

a baby hat - done. believe it or not, this has no owner, it was just a way to kill an extra skein of yarn that was hanging around looking lonely and unproductive. the pattern is one of Debbie Bliss' baby cashmerino wonders.

Nuchie, modeling with the pure sunshine and blue sky of Louet chunky yarn. this yarn is destined for big things - in this case, two alphabet blankets in T and G for my oldest friend Jackie's two little boys.

Thayer's blanket underway (it's now 5" - this picture's a day old!)

Brownie's "special green" skiing socks, as named by Cob - a christmas present for another unnamed recipient. this is worsted weight wool knit on size 2 needles. yes, i am crazy.

and if you didn't believe me that i'm crazy, the beginnings of a Dale of Norway sweater: this one goes veeeeeerrrrryyyyy slowly - my goal is 1 row a day. yep, 1 row a day. i try to get it done over morning coffee while i'm listening to the news and then the rest of the day just doesn't seem so hard. my friend, Cathi, and I are knitting the same sweater at the same time in different colourways. crazy. just crazy.

and then there's the perrenial Estonian "Goat's-eye" socks that i'm knitting with Norma (hers are blue and red). i'm just trying to stay one step ahead of her to help her with the pattern. this is another one of those DK-light worsted weight knit on size 1 needles. freakish.

and finally, the first of a matching pair of toddler socks that will eventually be part of this world, made from Crystal Palace bamboo-cotton-nylon yarn. if you ever get the chance to knit with this yarn, do it. it's good stuff. and baby socks are so stinkin' cute.

first ski

2008-11-22T19:30:00.000-08:00

after a long week traveling, i finally returned home, took the afternoon off, and went out for my first ski of the season. it wasn't anything big or strenuous, just a little jaunt with Nuchie in our neighborhood trails.

i usually have these trails to myself and yesterday was no exception. that is, except Nuchie - together we're learning our way around them but we still don't have them all figured out.

fresh snow always give you a chance to see if it's a good bunny year, which it seems to be. if you look closely, hopefully you can see the bunny trails - very distinctive marks those little guys make.

it was about -10F - too cold to skate ski, but perfect for my classic skis. and enough for a frosty eyelash or two.

and we topped off the night with Dea and Ben with enchiladas and little knitting...

6 hours, 39 minutes of possible daylight

2008-11-11T17:16:00.001-08:00

as we move further into winter up here in the northland, many of you have asked about our weather. is it cold yet? (yes.) is it freezing? (yes.) do you have snow? (YES!)

Is it dark yet? well, this is looking out over my deck at 3:30 pm.

and this is the same deck at 4:00 pm

nice sunset, don't you think?

sunrise happened around 9:15 this morning and we lost 6 minutes and 36 seconds of possible daylight from yesterday.

home sweet home

2008-11-10T20:38:00.001-08:00

Cob and i spent last week in Whitehorse, Canada. Cob was being a "kept man" while i worked, attending a scientific working group for Yukon River salmon that is jointly staffed by American and Canadian scientists. this working group supports the international treaty between the US and Canada that allocates the salmon that swim over 3,000 miles from the Bering Sea to the spawning grounds in Canada. Brandy (of cranberry picking fame from last year) and i were busy working while our respective partners played (and as it turns out, Ross bought a diamond with which to make Brandy an honest woman! i'm not spoiling any surprises here, she's already wearing it...)

though it's just two hours by plane, we decided to take the scenic route home over about 600 miles and 12 hours that started with a BIG breakfast in Haines Junction.

the scenery and company were top-rate. this is Kluane Lake, on the Canadian side, home to Burwash Landing people and many, many Dall sheep. those who live where i do will see beautiful, yet familiar scenery in the picture below. it just really is this beautiful up here, no joke. ok, so maybe we don't have these mountains up close in Fairbanks, but we have our own version of it in snow-capped domes with untouched trails, sparkling snow across a frozen lake, and a skyline of black spruce that rivals any big cityscape.

we got to the border by about 2 pm with 6 hours left to go, but we had to stop and take this picture. as i tromped over the snow making my way to this sign, i recalled the same moment, 11 years ago in 1997 when i moved up here and my life changed. i was wearing a grey fleece with red trim, jeans, and sneakers, and the marvel of the landscape unfolding before me left me captivated. 11 years later, i have no idea where that fleece went to, but i still look around myself in marvel at the land, and the people, and the world that i live in. it just never gets old. if you ever get this far north, stop by this sign and remember where you are. as they say in the Yukon, your soul's in here.

one word

2008-11-04T23:47:00.000-08:00

WOO-HOO!!!!!

(and i don't even care if that's not a real word - it is tonight!)

a long week

2008-10-31T21:57:00.000-07:00

perhaps you've figured out by now that i've not had too many minutes to myself over the last two weeks. while i realize that my silence on this blog doesn't really qualify as a tragedy of epic proportions, it does sometimes mark that i'm running low on down time, and that's never a good thing.

but, it's Friday and as everyone knows, Friday night is date-night at Ivory Jack's, the closest we get to a local pub. i use the word 'local' since we WERE local to it when we lived in the waterless cabin in Goldstream Valley. now that we're on the hill, Ivory Jack's isn't so local. but you know what they say -- you can take the girl out of the Goldstream, but you can't take the Goldstream out of the girl...or soemthing like that.

anyhoo, this is the perfect way to spend Halloween - dressed up like Goldstreamers with tasty beers as our costume props.

Cob is pretty satisfied with his beer stain on the Ivory Jack's placemat which features the famous Ode to an Oosik (on the second page - read on, oh faithful reader).

oh, and some knitting, too (child's socks in purple bamboo yarn - Christmas is coming, you know).

last week-end catch up

2008-10-22T19:21:00.000-07:00

before we get to Thursday, i'm taking a few minutes to remember last week-end, which was particularly fun, largely due to the awesomeness of my friends, who have been a HUGE relief through the last many working week-ends for me...

Friday night, we gathered at the Pub to celebrate Mia's 25th (or something like that) birthday. Cara, Lynne, Jim, Cob, Stevie, Mia, Theresa, Liz and I ate carrot cake cupcakes and danced to the Thneeds.

Saturday morning (and afternoon) found me on the couch on a cold day, knitting, but really just being a Mieze-pillow.

Saturday night, Dea and Ben came over with a pizza. i pushed Mieze off the couch about a hundred times to make room for Dea, who has been dazzling me with her knitting commitment and quickly growing skill! First scarves, then hats - now that girl's knitting lace!

I think i worked a little on Sunday morning, and then after an afternoon knitting and playing Scrabble with Sapphire (my BBBS little sister), i went to Kristen's for a bowl of chili...

...and a little Baby Boo love.

it was a good week-end. it's snowing right now (4" and counting...), so maybe i'll break out the skis or snowshoes come Saturday!

spinning out of control

2008-10-11T17:31:00.000-07:00

i got a new wrinkle on my brain today.

for a while now, i've toyed with the idea of learning to spin (yarn that is, not a stationary bike to a remixed beat), but i've never gotten around to it. not so today. i found my way to A Weaver's Yarn, where the owner helped me figure out how to get my mind around turning beautiful batts of fiber into plied yarn with the help of an equally lovely piece of wood. i mean, what could be better than hand knitting a sweater for someone you love, other than spinning the yarn to make a hand-knitted sweater for someone you love? a no-brainer, really.

ok, this is what i learned.

that thing is spinning, even if you can't tell. i'm drafting fibers and spinning them into yarn - a chunky, home-spunny looking yarn, but yarn nonetheless! and my teacher reminded me that some people pay a lot of $$ for homespun yarn (just like my crazy curly, mind-of-its-own hair, i thought - some people actually pay $$ to make their hair fall in ringlets while all i've ever dreamed of is shiny straight locks...but i digress)

here's what i learned: every fiber has a staple, the natural length of the fibers that make up the roving, which is the big cottony thing that you spin into yarn. i also learned that you have to keep an eye on the hook at the top of the spindle, which likes to let go of your newly made yarn when you're not looking. you can spin the spindle in either direction - you just have to be consistent. however, as with everything yarn related, old wives' tales reign. apparently, counter-clockwise spinning can lead you to inadvertedly cast spells, which can make people suspect you to be a witch and get to thinking about burning stakes. i happen to spin clockwise it turns out, but my teacher spins counter-clockwise, so she says that she just remembers to think happy thoughts while spinning so that if any spells fling out unexpectedly, they'll be good ones. i think that's an excellent plan.

you know, i've knit many, many yards of yarn without really spending much time thinking about how this yarn was spun or plied. spinning only a few yards, as i did today, and trying to make it look even is HARD. really hard. i'm not sure i'll ever escape really appreciating this aspect of my yarn again!

i'm also sure that i'll eventually get to a place where i can think happy thoughts while spinning along, instead of the current $&%#* thoughts that zing around my brain as the spindle hook lets my yarn go and i try to convince my fingers that they're really ARE fingers and not the 8 thumbs they're acting like.

thank goodness i spin clockwise...

good-bye fall, hello winter

2008-09-28T10:25:00.000-07:00

fall is probably my favorite time of year. the yellow aspen and birch leaves against a blue sky. crisp clear days, the first whiffs of wood smoke in the air. the changing high bush cranberry foliage that paints the woods behind my house in an earthy red. but perhaps i love fall most for another reason - its length. A Fairbanks autumn is short, 2 or 3 weeks maybe, where colors change quickly and leaves drop overnight.

this morning we woke to this:

our first snow. it's not much, and it's wet. it won't stick or last, but it is an undeniable sign of what is to come. we won't get the cold temps or really dark days or even a lot more snow for a while yet. but last night, winter crept in silently and with the exception of a few fits and starts perhaps, is here until April.

i gotta say, i love winter too.

simple pleasures

2008-09-25T11:03:00.000-07:00

sometimes in this complicated world, it's good to be reminded of life's simpler pleasures. kids have a way of focusing you in on these things. Anna and i spent some time together yesterday afternoon after work while her mom was working late. i was stressed, tired, feeling WAY behind, yet Anna managed to convince me that sitting in front of the stove watching cookies bake was an extremely valuable use of time.

she was right.

the big world

2008-09-08T21:04:00.000-07:00

every year, Cob and i grab the dog, pack the car, load the canoe, and head south to Tangle Lakes. this tradition started for me in 1997, before Cob even, when Phyllis and Chase took me on my first canoe camping trip.

and i was hooked.

since then, things have changed. My life took turns i never thought it would. i met Cob. P & C took a hiatus from the Labor Day week-end trips for a few years. i made new friends. one thing has stayed the same. the great big world of Tangle Lakes.

on the globe, Tangle Lakes is a very small place. but when you're there, it's huge. a great big and dramatic sky, with storms brewing and dying all around you.

the alpine tundra is literally alive with tart cranberries, bright red bear berry leaves, ancient caribou trails, migrating swans, and peaceful waters.

i only come here in September, when the long summer days are on the cusp of falling into winter through the brief space that is autumn in Alaska. warm days in short sleeves give way to hard frosts at night.
for the last two years, friends have come with us to this place to share a few days away, and this year, P &C joined us again after 5 years.

evenings are spent around a campfire, knitting, drinking wine, talking politics with like-minded souls.

two years ago, Cob and i watched as hundreds of swans gathered in the bay behind our campsite before their long migration south. this year, we witnessed something new. we arrived at our usual campsite in the evening just as swans begin to trickle in. the next morning, they all left in flurry of white wings, only to return to the bay the same time that evening. not sure where they went, but it was fun to contemplate their daily adventures.

as i walked around this campsite, whose corners i've come to know so well, i found myself taking stock of the little things that had changed. the marmot jaw that had been here for the last several years, embedded in the tundra at the top of our site, was gone. the berries were not quite ripe since we were there a little early. the swans were doing something new. the grayling were still biting. the water a little higher. old friends were with us again. new friends were with us again. nuchie still wants to sleep right up against me in the tent. the hot chocolate still tastes just as good with the cool bite of evening. and the great big dramatic sky can still hold my attention for hours.

and in the fading light of the each day, i hope i'll see this place again.

A letter to my husband (who's deathly afraid I won't go out and see Winnipeg...)

2008-08-25T18:21:00.000-07:00

so, first you need to know that i'm in Winnipeg to attend a conference. which conference you ask? why, the 10th international Coregonid Conference of course! what's a "coregonid" you ask? well, i used to know the answer to that question. two days ago, i would've said that's just a fancy name for a whitefish. but now, as an anthropologist surrounded by a bunch of hard core fisheries biologists, i've learned all kinds of big new words that make 'coregonid' seem like child's play. like 'gonad somatic' something or other, or how about 'ogliotrophicate'?

talk about a fish out of water! hee! hee! actually, it's not that bad. the fishery dudes are pretty cool and they patiently explain things when i stare at them blankly. one even gave me the compliment tonight upon learning that i'm actually an anthropologist, not a biologist, that i sounded convincing and he never would've known. i'm still trying to figure out if that's a good thing or not...

anyway, on to the important stuff - to satisfy my husband that i'm not JUST attending scientific talks or holing away in my hotel room under the crushing weight of the work i brought with me, here are a few Winnipeg scenes:

the bears of Winnipeg (like the cows of Chicago or the salmon of Olympia)

my fisheries biologist friends, Randy and Ken, with the only bear holding a fish (though we don't think it is a whitefish - it looks more like a spawning salmon)

this dude has something to do with the colonial Canadian government - his base says "Riel" and he's very serious about that paper in his hand.

A view of the Assiniboine River, about a 10 minute walk from my hotel and loverley, as my grandmother used to say.

on the river walk along the Assiniboine, the fisheries biologists stopped to talk to the local fishermen...i was trying to analyze the inkwork on the one on the left, but then, i'm the anthropologist.

ever wonder what a group of fisheries biologists looks like on a roof-deck pool? here it is folks - free beer and all the walleye cheeks you could eat!

and finally (because i am actually spending a lot of time in the hotel room working), the view form my room. i kind of like it.

sunny days and warm blankets

2008-08-21T18:48:00.001-07:00

so, the weather in Fairbanks has finally turned nice (just in time for Fall!) so i'm taking advantage of the warm sun and my large deck to block a few things that have been hanging around waiting for the rain to stop.

a blanket for newly married friends...they don't know they're the recipients so they shall remain nameless for now...

this is made from an absolutely lovely merino-cashmere-silk mix by Kathmandu Yarns in a deeply complex straw color - full of grey-sage, off white, and yellow flecks. i never tired of the color and that means a lot when you've spent months of your life with it. this blanket measures 6'x6' and was knit in one big piece.

oh, and the vest...it's coming along. the pattern's still a pain, but here's the front blocking. i can tell already that the arm holes aren't big enough, so we'll be fixing that tonight.

oh yeah, knitting

2008-08-16T19:34:00.001-07:00

to read this blog is to think that i never knit. or at least it seems that way to me, especially this summer. admittedly, my knitting's been a little lagging - but it has continued behind the scenes, never you fear! i'm holding back on pictures since many of the finished products are gifts that have yet to be given.

but here's my little gem that i can't hold back on. it is also a gift for a little baby that's thinking about being born, AS WE SPEAK. i know that his or her mama, who would very much like to meet this new little love, will not mind seeing the new sweater on this blog before receiving it, and maybe, just maybe, if the little baby knows what kinds of things await him or her, s/he might just get a move on.

it's a brownie original, though i adapted the pattern from another that i really like. Cara says she'd like it in a women's small. the detail:

and lest you think i'm resting on my laurels, here's a vest i'm knitting for me, FOR ME. (that never happens). it's simple, nothing big, but i like it so far, though the pattern's a bit of a bugger.

where art though, oh blueberry?

2008-08-09T15:08:00.001-07:00

ok, the first thing to know is that i did find the berries - those tricky little blue buggers were really hiding well this summer! but this is how it started:

picking - no, searching for berries with Kat and Ann on top of Ester Dome. for those of you who've ever witnessed the half-crazed obsessive berry hound that i become in late July/early August, you know what i mean. i LIVE for the blueberry season in last July and then patiently await the first frost so that i can move on to cranberries.

this is what we found - this small green bowl was the 'fruit' of our joint effort over about an hour.

later on, Kristin, Anna, and i searched again for berries on top of Murphy Dome. we played with Anna alot, but there wasn't a whole lot of berries going on. this is what we were looking for:

a week later, i got wind of a blueberry nirvana, packed my half gallon buckets and a large lunch, grabbed Phyllis and Chase, and headed out. sorry folks, no pictures - we were busy picking berries...

froward women...

2008-07-15T10:56:00.000-07:00

last Saturday night, Cob and i packed up a bottle of wine and a picnic dinner, jumped on our bikes and pedaled to the University where our own Fairbanks Shakespeare group was performing their annual Shakespeare play - this year was 'Taming of the Shrew'

Tucking into the wooded path that leads to the outside stage:

this is an annual tradition for us and like most events in Fairbanks, it take a village. the set is made every year by folks in town, many of the actors double as our friends in real life, local artisans make the costumes (probably because their kids at one time participated and now it's just fun), etc.

plus, they let you bring your own dinner and bottle of wine. Just think: a warm summer evening, a bottle of wine, good friends, and a play written in a language you can't hope to comprehend! here's me, brushing up on the play prior to the opening act so that i might have a clue of what's going on!

and finally, Petruchio in the beginning stages of taming his very own shrew, Kate.

The Taming of the Shrew is considered one of Shakespeare's 'difficult' plays, likely because of the commonly understood misogynistic themes. however, our actors managed to put a spin on this that highlighted the meeting of two equal spirits, rather than the subjugation of one. either way, i'll be back next year to see what the Shakespeare troupe comes up with next!

happy birthday Ali!

2008-07-13T22:14:00.000-07:00

this morning, i joined a few Fairbanks crazies to run a 10 miler with our friend, Alison, to celebrate her birthday. i call them 'crazies' because the guy on the left, Drew, just did a full half ironman triathalon yesterday while Ali (in green) and Klaus (far right) ran the half marathon leg in the same race. and then ran another 10 miles today. crazy.

but that didn't stop us from jumping for joy over Ali's birthday!

take 2:
and then we decided we couldn't jump anymore...

happy birthday, Ali!!

what i love

2008-07-06T17:13:00.000-07:00

As much as i like traveling for work and pleasure, i like my home in the subarctic even more. July 4th brought a much needed ground to all my flitting about. First order of business? Celebrating the new bike path along the Parks Hwy, one of Fairbanks 2 major highways. Here in AK, the home of oil, snow machines, 4-wheelers, motor boats, and the like rule. those of us who still prioritize human-powered modes of transportation (running, biking, canoeing, roller-skiing, skiing), have to fight hard for our place on the road. this bike path all the way out to Ester is a major coup and worth jumping for joy over!

we used said bike path to get to the counter-culture parade and community picnic in Ester, or the Republic of Ester as its residents like to call it, a lefty liberal town southwest of Fairbanks and the perfect place to celebrate our nation's birth and express our own form of patriotism.

an important message we should all heed:

these guys were handing out tasty turnips to the crowd! afterwards, everyone headed to the Ester park for a potluck picnic - a fabulous place for families and anybody with a sense of community!

a hot bike ride home found us on the deck drinking gin and tonics out of martinis glasses with our friend, Cara. that's the dahlia she gave me at the beginning of the summer.

On Saturday, Phyllis, Cob and I headed out to float the Chatanika with our new friend, Erin. Here they are discussing how to get around the nasty sweepers just ahead formed in part by a beaver dam.

not wanting to get wet, Phyllis and I lined around the mess while Cob and Erin braved it backwards (?!).

All in all, i spent the week-end with the people i love in the place i love doing the things i love. it can't get any better than that. I hope your 4th was as relaxing and reaffirming of whatever it is that you love about where you live, who you are, and what you do.

we still do.

2008-07-02T09:58:00.001-07:00

three years ago today, Cobbie and i joined hands under a light rain surrounded by friends and flowers to marry.

the sun came out. the flowers were accommodatingly purple.

the groom handsome as ever.

i've never been one much for calendar dates. i can barely remember my own birthday, much less anyone else's. but my wedding anniversary is quite another story. i don't need a present or any fanfare, mind you -- just the private acknowledgment that we made it another year and the quiet reflection of what that year brought to us, and what we did with it.

The River of love
runs in strange directions.
One who jumps into it, drowns,
and one who drowns, gets across. - Amir Khusran, 1253-1375

oh yeah, and who could forget the 40s?

Happy anniversary, Cobbie. i hope there are many more to come.

love, brownie

they do.

2008-07-01T18:37:00.000-07:00

this is the picture of loveliness. and love.

my friend, Rob (or, as we prefer to call him, "the legendary grey bear", or just LGB for short) got married on June 14th in Healdsburg, CA to Natasha Guzman, a perfect gem of a woman and his match in every way. i was honored to stand up for him at one corner of the huppah. (that's me on the left with the SHORT hair.)

Weddings are symbolic events; they are a chance for the bride and groom to tell the story of their love and their relationship. Natasha and Greyber reminded us of all that really matters: love, respect, simchah (joy), ...oh, and wine. did i mention this wedding was in wine country?

i've always said that weddings are worth moving mountains to get to - after all, there's never a shortage of sad events to bring us together. like hell i'm going to miss a party! and these two can throw a party! the dinner:

the dancing:

and oh yeah...the 40s! you see, Greyber et al have shown up at all of my life's important events drinking malt liquor. you know, beer so good that they sell it in bulk and serve it out of a paper bag, as Greyber says. after cleaning up many 40 oz bottles from my cabin and enduring the embarrassment of them bringing them aboard the riverboat at my own wedding, you have NO idea how satisfying it was to produce the sweet, sweet elixir at such an otherwise elegant event!

in the immortal words of Greyber, "Aw Yeah."

congratulations you two, and all my love.

G A S H travels

2008-06-21T22:05:00.000-07:00

as usual, i'm behind - this time due to fieldwork and fun travel, which isn't over yet, so i'll sneak one post in here and then try to catch up again later...

Early June found me and a research colleague, Erin, in the GASH villages (Grayling, Anvik, Shageluk, and Holy Cross in the lower-middle Yukon River area). our task was to map subsistence practices across species and seasons, primarily addressing questions of climate change and how it is affecting aspects of subsistence. this is work i don't have much experience with, so i was a bit apprehensive about what we'd find. the fact that we arrived in Shageluk, a little village of about 85 people on the Innoko (a tributary of the Yukon) without our maps which we'd mistakenly left behind, didn't help. here, Erin pulls down a HUGE map from the wall of the high school that we used until we could get our real and much more manageable maps shipped out to us.

in between interviews in Shag, we were treated to one of Alaska's amazing sunsets (this one around 11 pm), bathing the village in pink light reflected in the windows of the school.

after Shageuk, we took our show on the road - or rather river - catching a ride by boat with our friend Arnold Hamilton to Holy Cross.

working on the same project, we were also there to help out with an annual elders conference that i try to attend every year. always held in a village, this conference is a great place for me to catch up with old friends i haven't seen for a little while. these lovely ladies are mostly from the Koyukuk River, all gathered together to visit and listen to fiddling and dance the waltz and two-step mostly. all of these women have taught me something and i consider them all my grandmas. the one on the far left beaded moosehide slippers for my first wedding (trimmed in white rabbit fur to match my dress, of course!)

this is Edna, originally from Shageluk and married into the village of Grayling, upriver from Holy Cross. she's one of the last Deg Xinag speakers in the area and still makes her own dip nets for fishing whitefish in the fall and spring.

after Holy Cross, we headed north to Grayling to continue working on our project and an additional one asking questions about the observations of natural indicators that help villagers to know when salmon, a most significant resource, will be arriving for harvest. just before the salmon arrive, there's a rush of sheefish (a large whitefish) that people set nets for. sheefish is an important food as well as an indicator for salmon. below, chaz (who went fishing with me last summer in "catching up" last July) squeezes all of the water out of boiled sheefish to make a local delicacy nicknamed "fish ice cream." boiled, wrung out, and flaked sheefish is mixed with fat (traditionally bear fat or some other rendered animal fat, but today crisco) and berries to make a whipped dessert that EVERYBODY loves and is a favored treat at potlatches. in this area, making fish ice cream used to an important marker of marriageability - a good wife knew how to make fish ice cream and the old stories are replete with this practice.

in Grayling, we talked to a lot of people about our work and they taught us a lot about their observations and concerns about climate change. we mapped many people's hunting, fishing, and trapping rounds - this is the chief of Grayling, "Harry O."

here's Edna again as we talk with her and her husband, "Tiny." Edna talked about the differences in fishing practices between her and her husband, given traditional gender differences. Edna is also an expert birch basket maker and grass tray weaver.

Here, Erin and Terry Chapin (a forestry ecologist from UAF who joined us for a spell in Grayling), leave Gabe Nicholai's smoke house after a tour. not very long ago, the Yukon River was dotted with summer fish camps where multiple families would gather for the entire summer to harvest, cut, and dry salmon for both themselves and the huge dog teams that provided transportation and labor for most villagers in the old days. technological advances of the snowmachine (which replaced dog teams), motor boats (which allowed for easy river travel), and surprisingly freezers (which allowed for an alternative way to preserve fish for the year instead of drying) allowed families to fish from the village and hang their fish at home instead of going to camp all summer. this smoke house stands right next to Gabe's home and allows him to both put his fish up and work a little during the summer to help with households expenses for the rest of the year.

in documenting subsistence practices among Athabascans in interior Alaska, this is much of what i do while out in the field, depending on the particular research questions and goals. i remain so impressed by the life that my friends here live, the work that they do, their care for the land and animals, and the challenges they face. i spend a lot of time in the field, it's true, but i never stop learning.

Nome Creek adventure

2008-05-29T19:53:00.000-07:00

ok, i'm beginning to see a pattern.

if any of you remember our adventures from last Memorial Day when we convinced our friends Kristin and Jeremy to bike the Denali Hwy with us (see Type II Fun from last May), you might recall that we don't have the best luck with Memorial Day trips.

this year, Cob suggested hiking the Quartz Creek trail to the base of Mount Prindle and then chucking down the Noe Creek drainage -- off trail, of course. first, let me say that it was a great trip - full of relaxing time with Cob and the bad dog and views like this:

we started up the Quartz Creek trail, through alpine tundra and then a spruce forest saddle (have to admit that my bearanoia got to me a little, esp as i imagine that the fuzzy-wuzzies (as Cob likes to call them) are hungrier this time of year....it made for some interesting and VERY LOUD conversations through the woods, peppered with "Hey Bear!" and "Yo Bear!"

anyway, after about 9 miles, we left the trail and pitched our tent just as the weather moved in. after waiting about a half-hour, we were able to squeak a quick dinner in during the rain-reprieve, and then it was back in the tent until the weather broke again at 9:30 am the next morning. however, what we woke to was this:

that's SNOW and ICE on our tent (uh-huh...just like last MemDay on the Denali Hwy...)
but at least there was coffee...

we packed up, skirted the base of Mount Prindle through a small pass bordered by an imposing dome that Cob last year summited and named Mount Nuch and then headed down the Nome Creek drainage, all the while admiring the awesome raging force that is Nome Creek this time of year (the rest of the summer it's a trickle), bushwhacking through overhead willows (and yelling a lot more "hey Bear!"s), and being grateful for the hard rocky turf whenever we could get a break from the tussocky tundra, which makes for some hard walking.

it was a good trip.

and many thanks to the hubby for these pictures...i'm in the middle of a pretty heavy-duty field season, traveling through the end of June, and so posts will be pretty thin on the ground until i have time to catch my breath.

the perfect martini

2008-05-19T21:47:00.000-07:00

How do you make a perfect martini?

it depends on whom you ask. Cob prefers Sapphire gin, neat and with just a hint of vermouth. Jamie's all about the Crantini, with vodka and cranberry juice. Several opted for the Mochatini with Godiva liquor. and Cara braved the Leopardtini made with boubon whiskey and papaya juice.

yes, that's a hand-painted leopard print martini glass in her hand. welcome to the 1st annual Martini-Boa party. the paparazzi were there....

men-wearing-boas were there...

yes, Jon is wearing a 'real' (stuffed) boa...

the birthday boy was there (Mieze's 18th birthday was our thinly veiled reason for the party...)

yes, he's wearing a boa too.

Cob (getting a little close to the fire in that fine boa) talking to a friend in a vine-boa.

all manner of good folks showed up in boas to celebrate Mieze's birthday, the arrival of spring, Norwegian Constitution Day, and a good martini.

if you ask me, the perfect martini is simply a good gin, a splash of dry vermouth, a drop of olive juice, and as many olives as you can fit in the glass - wet and dirty, that is.

Lucia Update (posted by Dutiful Husband)

2008-05-15T23:53:00.000-07:00

Brown is still out of town for another few days, but I figured that her faithful readers are dying to know what's up with Lucia. In short, she's bustin' out. Her needle pods (my term -- sorry, botanists!) look like tiny shaving brushes, and those purple flowers are the best. From a distance she's still mostly branches and twigs, but now she has a discernible greenish tinge to her.

until Saturday...

2008-05-13T17:28:00.000-07:00

ok, one last shot before i head out to the villages of Sleetmute and Aniak on the Kuskokwim River...

Lucia's looking good, sprouting more everyday and keeping hold of her little purple flowers, much to my delight!

I'll be back late on Friday night so I'll document Lucia's progress on Saturday (unless i can convince Cobbie to do a guest blog...) along with a few pix of Sleetmute!

Lucia's purple flower surprise

2008-05-11T20:38:00.000-07:00

ok, 3 days later and things are looking distinctively greener for Lucia...from a distance, Lucia wears a coat of green fuzz, and up close...

...whammo! green tufts, and much to our surprise, purple flowers! who knew?

Lucia in double-time

2008-05-08T13:17:00.000-07:00

some of you might remember this lovely lady...if you were hanging with me last June, you remember when she was transplanted in our yard as part of the toy forest. This is Lucia, named for a friend's child and she's a larch (the tree, not the child), an interesting little tree that sheds its needles every fall and then regrows them in the spring in little tufts. right now she's looking a little bare...

the springtime unfurling of leaves is a special obsession of mine, and the speed of springtime in fairbanks never ceases to amaze me. so here's my proof: watch this blog over the next few days and weeks to see Lucia's progress through spring in double-time. we are by now enjoying about 17 hours of daylight and all that sunshine makes our plants happily grow at unbelievable rates. we actually like to watch grass grow; in Fairbanks, it can be quite a show! blink your eyes, and you might miss the greening of Fairbanks.

Today is May 8 and the tiny beginnings of her needle tufts are started to peek out...

spring is a state of mind

2008-04-30T13:18:00.001-07:00

i just knew it. i knew that if i tempted the spring gods with talk of spring, they'd yank away my last shred of hope that spring will actually return to the north land. i was so cocky, basking in the sunlight of the Clearwater, watching those ice shelfs drip, drip, drip into the river. hanging out on the deck in a tank top. what was i thinking? this morning, i woke to this:

that's Creamer's Field, an historic creamery that was long ago transformed into a migratory bird refuge and happens to be my office's back yard. that gray background is snow - wet, heavy snow and those little black dots in the foreground are a few hardy Canada geese souls braving the nastiness on their long journey north.

what's a girl to do when spring is like a slippery pig?

i think those few birds up there have the right idea. they're going along on their happy, if wet and cold, way because it's spring damn it. and they have things to do - like fly north and make babies on the tundra. i have things to do too, and they involve spring, so from here on out folks, spring is a state of mind. don't tell me about the weather. i don't care if a thin veneer of ice formed in the road potholes last night. i can pretend that my snow tires aren't still on. and that all those wildflower seeds i spread last week-end aren't frozen little nubs under a blanket of snow in my yard. or that we've broken snowfall records for the month of April. (APRIL! do you hear me, oh gods of spring???)

spring is a state of mind. and what better way to celebrate it?

you guessed it - a little spring knitting. with Charley, who's learning socks. in front there are two sleeves of a sweater for a little babe in Tennessee. i bet he's basking in spring weather. so am i, baby, so am i.

wishful thinking

2008-04-27T21:50:00.000-07:00

what happens when the wishbone breaks down the middle?

that's just what happened today. rarely do i have the chance to make a wish and pull one end of the wishbone anymore -- a thrill generally left to my childhood during holidays when big, fat turkeys graced the table. nowadays, my nephews and nieces get the honor, though some part of me still longs to grab one end, squeeze my eyes shut, and yank!

so today, when Cara presented one of these treasures, i jumped! we took a few moments to make our wishes. we decided to make generous wishes that each included both of us. we wrapped our pinky fingers around one end, pulled, and ...

...it split down the middle! what does that mean??? as a child, things were one often way or another. as an adult, things are more complicated. but does this reality have to also taint the wishbone pull -- this uncomplicated corner of childhood? or is there another explanation?

any ideas?

Clearwater caravan

2008-04-21T19:32:00.000-07:00

ok, it's finally here. spring, i mean. here in Fairbanks, spring is a start-and-stop process until the warmer weather finally comes to stay. a few weeks ago, it was warm, SO warm, and then things went south and we got about 7" of snow inside of a week. need proof? other Fairbanksans noticed it too.

regardless of this schizophrenic seasonal confusion, we get out there anyway, weather be damned. that's why we gathered up our gear, pushed the snow off the canoe and put her in for the first paddle of the season. we headed out to the Clearwater, a wonderfully mellow river that remains ice-free for much of the winter due to its spring-fed source and so is a favorite among canoeists itchin' to get paddlin'! This is Cara doing her best snow-canoe bunny:

We put in on Friday night around 8 pm, paddled around a few bends until we saw this:

Our friends' cabin. now maybe you can only get to it by boat, but this place is DEEE-LUXE! a nearby spring from which to haul water, propane lamps and full copper stove, real wine glasses, all the utensils you can imagine, and an outhouse with pink shag carpet. oh yeah - pink carpet in the outhouse! who knew? after a fabulous dinner and a rousing game of Cranium, a few of us popped into the hot tub on the deck before falling off to sleep...the next morning we were up bright and early for our adventure paddling the Clearwater. this is a shot early on in the day -- that's Nuch's tail between my feet -- he sits in front of me while we paddle.

we marveled at the scenery and kept our eyes and ears peeled for the sounds of migratory birds who were due any minute back to the Great Land on their northern migration. Here, two of our group negotiate the shelf ice on their way to our lunch spot.

we found a nice spot, tied off and then lunch went as it often does on the river....

Food, then...
...nap!

shortly thereafter, one arm of the Tanana blended into the Clearwater, we made a sharp turn and a mad paddle up a small river (against the current) that drains Clearwater Lake, where Mia and Steve snuck up on Cara and Gerken to hitch a free ride.

(see that silty water? not exactly the CLEARwater anymore...the Tanana is a glacially fed river and virtually impossible to see through. it was a far cry from the beginning of our paddle where you could literally count the stones on the river bed.) but our paddle upriver paid off and we were rewarded with this sight:

loads of swans and Canada geese taking a brief respite at the lake during their long journey north, or as Greg Brown once said about migrating redwings, "to talk over the long journey and sing..." i'd love to know just exactly what all those honks mean. this early in the season, the lake was still partially covered with a thin layer of ice, strong enough to support a bird...

...but not a dog, as Nuchie found out when he decided that he'd leap out of the canoe onto an ice shelf. so folks, no pictures - i was too busy panicking about how to get the bad dog out of the 40F water and back into my canoe! this was taken before the offending event while we were still relaxing on the lake and enjoying the bird serenade.

not much worse for the wear, we made it back to the cabin, had another lovely dinner with the group, more hot-tubbing, sleeping, waking to a glorious WARM morning completed by a little morning knitting.

of course.

meet Mieze

2008-04-06T21:42:00.001-07:00

we've got a new family member. Mieze is a 17 or 18 year old kitty from the village of Tanana on the Yukon River (where some of you might remember i used to live) who came to us this last friday under somewhat unusual circumstances.

As a result of some unfortunate immigration issues, a German national friend of mine, who's lived in Tanana for the last 20 years, is moving on to new adventures. however, his constant companion of the last 15 or 16 years, Mieze (german for kitty and pronounced Meet-zee) is too old to accompany him. So, Cob and I are lucky enough to get Mieze as the mature and wise kitty he's become.

Clearly, he's a handsome devil. and he's quite accomplished, too. I've known Mieze since 2000, when he regularly made himself comfortable in my lap while Christian and I talked long into the night over good German beer - a small oasis in the middle of Alaska. before that, Mieze logged some time in Christian's dog sled as he mushed his dogs 40 miles north of Tanana to a homestead on the Tozitna River. Mieze's been to fish camp in a boat and spent some time in a canoe with Christian. as a friend recently said, if kitties wrote their autobiographies, Mieze's would be exceptional.

but perhaps Mieze's biggest accomplishment has been taking care of Christian and being a good and loyal friend for the last 15 years. even with his feral start, Mieze quickly made his way into Christian's heart and hung with him through a lot of cold, dark winters. but Christian 's time to move on had come and he was heart-broken over having to leave Mieze behind.

Our job is to take care of Mieze as well as he took care of Christian. i think we're off to a good start.

temporary cover

2008-04-01T11:03:00.001-07:00

i've helped collect a lot of $$ for charity. i've washed cars, baked cookies, written checks - hell, i've even run a marathon! but a friend and colleague of mine recently did something few of us would - she shaved her head to raise $$ to fight cancer in children. the charity was St. Baldrick's and the event was March 22. and it wasn't only her - she's a volunteer fire fighter here in Fairbanks, and other fire fighters in her station joined her in baldness.
think about it - she shaved her head. shaved. her. head. and what's more, she was so psyched by the experience that she's going to do it again! the kindness of strangers never ceases to amaze me.

that kind of selflessness in motivating to me. though i regularly complain about my curly locks, i'm not about to shave them off and look like Sinead (unless there's the chance that i might also get her voice...). and writing a check didn't seem like quite enough in light of Nikki's monumental sacrifice. at lunch one afternoon talking about the Big Day, i realized what i could do. after all, she was leaving the next day for a NW Alaska village for some fieldwork. and while it's spring in AK, it's still cold especially for someone with an exposed scalp. so, after lunch, we headed to the yarn shop and picked out some yarn.

Nikki got a check AND a hat - temporary cover until summer. i especially like the fact that she said her new stubble acts like velcro, picking up all manner of lint and such, including little bits of pink and plum fuzz. that's gotta be a good look!

way to go, Nikki...and thank you.

my world, part II

2008-03-30T22:39:00.000-07:00

last week, i was here:

checking a net under the ice for whitefish outside the village of Kaltag on the Yukon. i was in the village attending a week-long memorial service called a Stickdance - a wonderful, powerful, community-wide expression of love and grief for family members that have passed away. the fish from this net were distributed around to village residents who were cooking for the nightly feasts that precede the people dancing and singing their loved ones into the next world.

it's the last thing that these people do for their loved ones and they do it right.

today, i'm here:

Whitehorse, Yukon Territory, Canada at a meeting of the Yukon Salmon Panel, the body that implements the international treaty allocating Yukon River salmon between Canadians and Alaskans.

in between, i had 3 hours on the ground to trade in my carhartts and bunny boots for slacks and danskos. it's kind of a tough transition; my mind is still very much on what the people of Kaltag put together for their potlatch. in some ways, though, there are significant connections. salmon are integral to Alaska Native culture. the harvesting of salmon is more than just food for the summer and winter, for humans and sled dogs - the process of catching salmon and putting it away also says very much about kinship, social obligations within villages, and relationships between land and people in Native Alaska. salmon are second only to moose as a main food at ceremonies like Stickdance.

so in many ways, this Panel is not only negotiating over salmon, they are also very much negotiating the future of these connections and relationships between people and salmon for Alaska Natives and First nations peoples in Canada alike, as well as others who rely on the fish.

for me, it's two weeks of two very different ways of getting at the same thing...and one more step in a long journey for me of understanding these critical relationships and how to take care of them in the right way.

welcome to my world

2008-03-25T10:24:00.001-07:00

here's a new one - blogging from a village on the Yukon. i turned on my laptop this morning to download a few interviews i'd conducted yesterday here in Nulato and what did i find? a wireless connection. in a village. wow.

now i don't want to romanticize this. the internet has long been in the villages of interior Alaska. schools depend on it and a teacher friend of mine who lived in Teller in the NW part of the state told me recently that the internet possibilities in her school far outweighed what they found when they moved to Fairbanks. when you're not connected by road and at the whim of the weather, you turn to the ether.

but this is different. this is me, in the tribal council building, turning on my computer and by some alchemy of software and air waves, i'm connected. to my husband in Fbx, to my email (a mixed blessing), and in the picture above, to my friend Ned, who's half-way through a 2 week snowmachine trip along AK's NW coast helping a scientist taking permafrost and ice cores.

and here's my morning: in the way back on the left is the tribal administrator for Nulato - a hard-working friend who puts up with me setting up shop at his conference table every now and again, breakfast in the green bowl there, the latest knitting in front (the skittles sweater), ned's blog, the most recent paper in the villages (last Thursday's), my digital voice recorder downloading interviews, and my field notebook.

welcome to my world.

i'm on to Kaltag tonight for the Stickdance. i'm not going to even hope for wireless.

late bloomer

2008-03-23T21:05:00.001-07:00

i meant to write about this on the vernal equinox which was, by now, a few days ago. but better late than never, i suppose, as you'll soon see. what's important is that i tell the story of my flower. this is my amaryllis. that is snow on my driveway behind it. despite said snow, this amaryllis means spring to me. it has been in my life for 5 years, almost as long as i've had Cob, and there's a reason for this which i'll get to in a minute. but first, let me tell you about my plant. every year it blooms in the last week of February into about the first half of March. once a year, it lets loose these flamboyant, red, trumpet-like blooms to herald in the change of season, and then goes back to its silent way of being for the other 11 months of the year.

each year i've had it, it's grown one additional stalk of blooms, which i tell you, delight me to no end. just ask Cob. it's like 'plant-cam' all over again. i don't do anything special to it - just water it every now and then (i think a Fairbanks winter is as close as you get to a good hibernation - dormancy that some plants need). during that winter, we go down to about 3 or 4 leaves and then every spring, they start coming back with the sun until i begin to see the beginnings of bloom stalks, and then there's another, and another, and then, well, then my old friend is back and the world is right. it's like the final promise of spring that can't be broken. it's for real - all this winter stuff will in fact end, and spring comes back in a triumphant blaze of red.

but this year, two things happen. we apparently maxed out at 4 stalks (unless i re-pot for some growing room this summer) and it bloomed a whole month late? what does THAT mean? any theories?

but here's another thing that will help you see this plant as i do - for all its promises. i was given this plant by two of Cobbie's friends, Antonia and Dante. A & D were in the peace corps with Cob 10 years ago in Ukraine. they are a wonderful italian and german couple in their 60s or 70s and truly, if you meet them, you will want them to adopt you. they befriended Cob during what he calls his 'disastrous peace corps experience' and when it blooms, it reminds him of them and the friendship they share. when i got this guy, he was a little squirt of a thing in a little plastic pot competing for attention in the wonderfully overgrown tangle of grapes, pomegranates, endless plants, and artwork that is their backyard.

now we depend on him to come back every year and bloom for us - funny how that never gets old.

knittin' girls of the north

2008-03-19T10:43:00.000-07:00

last night, Chez Cob-Brown was graced by some of the loveliest knitting ladies in the north for a regular ol' stitch and bitch. some think of knitting as a dying art, fit only for old lady-types who've got nothing better to do with their time. people, you are so wrong. i learned to knit about 10 years ago when i was looking for a portable craft. i'm not terribly artistic, but i can read directions and i have patience (contrary to what many think!). over the last decade, i've found a few like-minded souls, and i've even grown a few of my own by passing on the skill and hopefully the love. what do i get in return? the opportunity to hang out with a boat-load of amazing people (happen to be all women in this picture, but not always...) who care to make things usually for other people they love - by hand. have a look:

Theresa and her cabled sock grimace - ok, two needles can make you feel like you have 10 thumbs. but 4 little tiny needles?

Norma and her traditional Estonian Goat's eye pattern sock. Norma's first sock is moving right along after the successful completion of a hooded baby sweater for a cousin's child.

me and the "Skittles baby sweater" made from remnants of other long-gone projects...

Mia and her baby dress, for her niece Ella. Ella charmed us all at Mia's wedding last November - hell, i wanted to knit for her!

Kristin and her purple baby dress - a Dale of Norway original. Kristin learned to knit about 2 years ago while working in the field and has been off and running since. this is baby project #3 (plus a lot of other good stuff) as far as i know...

Kat and a sweater for herself (go Kat!) made from cranberry bamboo yarn...Kat's made a thousand things for everyone else. a good knitter always remembers to do a little for herself every now and again.

Dea making child's socks out of a fuzzy, soft yarn for a knitting friend's child who is being raised on an organic farm and runs around barefoot...

Cara and her navy baby sweater for a sweet babe in her life that has something to teach us all about hanging in there!

that's a lot of stitches and a lot of love - and no crusty old-lady-with-nothing-else-to-do stuff.

thank you ladies.

Fall leaf or Rum Raisin?

2008-03-12T16:45:00.001-07:00

ok, after 2 years in our house of white walls, Cob and i are taking the plunge to paint a wall. we're not painting a room - just a wall. actually two walls that connect our foyer to our kitchen. i feel very clever about this - playing with space and creating flow in my house. feeling oh-so-clever, i then contemplated paint colors. we wanted warm (it IS the foyer after all and we want people to feel welcome), but neither of us are bold decorators (which is why we have all white walls to begin with). so, 271 paint chips, countless suggestions from friends (namely Cara, Theresa, Norma, and Kristen), and a couple of bottles of wine later, we have a winner! or rather, we have two potential winners: rum raisin and fall leaf.

Kat suggested buying a small amount of paint and painting a 2'x3' section. trying on the color for size but not really committing, she said. since i couldn't decide between two colors, there are well, 2 sections of paint. Cara demonstrates her patented "W-V" technique.

as i said before, there are really two walls that connect to one another, and in so doing, connect the foyer to the kitchen. however, in our house full of light that changes on a minutely basis, these two walls carry the same paint in very different ways. and we needed to know what that looked like. our two sections turned into four. Cara painting in the foyer.

now remember, we're deciding between an orange, which is happy and light, but maybe a little happier and lighter than i feel these days. the red is nice, but oh-so-dark when there's no natural light on it...hmmmm.....

ahhh - one coat of paint, but you get the picture. vanna...err - i mean Cara shows off our paint job. i'll live with this until i make a decision. any votes?

and since i know what you're thinking (wow, those are really, ummmm...bold colors), remember the wise words of my good friend Will, "when in doubt, go big." can you tell i'm in serious doubt?

afternoon with anna

2008-02-17T20:51:00.000-08:00

on sunday, i got to hang out with anna-banana. her papa was headed out for a ski and her mom was, well, her mom was competing in a 100 mile race south of Fairbanks. don't ask - this is normal for her. either way, we got lucky and hit the anna-jackpot. it started with lunch (turkey, raspberry pancakes, sweet potatoes, and hummus)

dirty face. clean face. no tears. check that out.

you might have noticed the presence of the phone. it will be a common theme in this post. anna gets the phone - if you accept this, then it's smooth sailing. Anna will take almost any phone-sized object and put it up to her face while saying the 18-month old version of "hello?", but she has an uncanny ability to tell the difference between a real phone and a real, but dead phone. only the live ones will do for the long haul. we attribute this early skill to ourselves, her mom's friends, keeping her mom on the phone for hours, sometimes even after we've spent the day together, much to the bewilderment of our respective spouses. here i'm learning how to dial.

and Cobbie learns the finer points of chatting with a friend.

and also long distance.

Anna found Cob's down cabin slippers and they are apparently GREAT phone accessories. this is baby-boo in action. (my apologies on the blurriness of these pictures - it's hard to take clear pictures of an active little kid.)

coming...

going...
on the phone. taking care of business.

a long wait

2008-02-13T18:28:00.001-08:00

so the Quest started on Saturday and Cob and i were supposed to head north on the trail to take some pictures of the mushers and their dog teams on the trail. however, a hiccup in the race thwarted our plans. the trail between Chena Hot Springs and the Mile 101 dog drop was blown over, leaving little snow for a snow hook and miles of hard trail on dog paws. for safety reasons, the Race Gurus decided to suspend the race in that part of the trail and truck the dogs to Mile 101, where we were going to take pictures. Cob quickly reorganized to head to the next spot between Circle and Central, but i couldn't go on a work day. Our friend Teresa volunteered for the job of helping Cob trek out to the trail on snowshoes....and wait for a musher.

they made it to Central and got some cool pictures of dog teams readying for the next leg.

Dog trucks are a pretty common scene around these parts, and taking on the Quest means lots of supplies. piles of straw means instant beds for tired pups. this was Monday in Central and it was still around -40 to -50F - brrrrrrr!

to get some pictures of mushers in action, Cob and teresa snow-shoed out to the trail on the river where they got a little frosty in the cold temps.

that means cold fingers when taking pictures...

they waited and waited....and waited and waited...and then....

a musher!! this was Jean-denis Britten, a 41 year old rookie originally from Nova Scotia and now living in Whitehorse, Canada. his dogs helped him skid logs to build his cabin in the off-season. now that's cross-training.

the visitor

2008-02-13T15:36:00.000-08:00

ok, for those of you who haven't been obsessively checking the Yukon Quest website, Phil made it to the half-way point, stayed his mandatory 36 hours, and took off around 5 am this morning, with all remaining 8 dogs. the trail reports promise smooth sailing compared to the US portion of the trail, so my paws are crossed for him and all 8 of his dogs!!

speaking of paws, Nuchie had a little date with the vet to take off a nasty, but (thankfully) benign tumor and has had to lay low to let his paw heal. i couldn't stand for him to be a cone-head (if you own a dog, you know what i'm talking about...), so i worked from home most of last week to keep an eye on him.

on one of these rare days at home during the light hours, we got an unexpected visitor.

this is a yearling bull moose. Cob saw him loitering around the yard the other day with part of one of his antlers still attached, but he's now lost it, as you can see from the fresh blood just above his eye there. Bull moose shed their racks every winter around this time or a little earlier and then grow them back in the summer.

this guy is young and so is pretty small as far as moose go. this is probably his first winter on his own. we just emerged from a cold snap where we didn't see any moose around, but now that it's warmed a bit, they're starting to move again. these pictures were taken out my kitchen window where he was helping to clean up the old dried up trollius and delphiniums i left from the summer. see him down on his front knees? so cool....

he wandered around our deck sampling the rose bushes - i was less psyched about that since they come back every year. every year, that is, except when they get munched by moose. a moose biologist friend of mine once described a moose's eating habits as having to stuff a huge sack full of plants every day, so they spend a good part of every day foraging. hmmmm.....but here's a lesson in perspective.

Nuchie watches as his new buddy walks of into the rest of the yard making a beeline for the birch sapling we planted last summer. i had to draw the line there when he swept his great snout through the twiggy branches of our baby birch trees. i came hollering out of the house, the moose slowly turned to look at me and sauntered off across the driveway to the woods on the other side.

and to let me know what he thought of me and my hollering, he left this behind:

moose poop. hey, you're welcome for the dried delphinium and rose bushes. come back any time.

by the fire

2008-02-10T15:10:00.000-08:00

the other day, Cob put a little feature on my computer which tells me the temperature outside. as i sit here, it says -30F, mostly sunny. that seems true as i look out the window on a brilliant, but cold day. this morning it said -45F. yesterday, it said -35F. the day before that (and the 3 days before that, also -40F) and before even that, Cob was getting up in the morning and checking the temperature because he doesn't have to go to work if the temp hits -50F. (it was close, but he went to work). by my count that's over a week of sub -30 and -40F temperatures.

we get cold snaps throughout the winter, but when they drag out like this, it gets old. i get cabin fever, i get tired of my brakes feeling like i'm pressing against a piece of hard, unyielding concrete, i get tired of having to warm up my car for 20 minutes before driving it, i get tired of my lettuce freezing in the 5 seconds it takes me to walk from the store to my cold car.

as far as i can tell, this is what cold, cold weather is good for:

knitting baby sweaters. actually, i'm indiscriminate about what i knit on really cold days, as long as it's by the fire. one of the first years i lived here in Fairbanks, we had a cold snap that lasted so long and dropped the temps so consistently, i actually brought the thermometer in just to make sure it was still working and that the mercury hadn't got lodged in some permanently condensed state.

here's the detail, for those interested.

the weather folks tell us that this will break soon. i say bring it on.

the Joy of Phil

2008-02-09T13:57:00.000-08:00

it's race day in Fairbanks - the start of the 25th annual Yukon Quest International Sled Dog Race. this 1000 + mile race, considered by most Alaskans to be the "real" sled dog race (as opposed to the glitzy Hollywood race they call the Iditarod), runs between Fairbanks, Alaska, and Whitehorse, Yukon Territory, alternating direction every year. This year the start was in Fairbanks and Cobbie and i braved the -35F temps to see my friend Phil Joy take his place in the starting line-up.

the race starts in downtown Fairbanks, on the Chena River. folks, i mean ON the river, which is frozen of course. rivers make great highways in the winter. when i arrived on the scene, this is what i saw: legions of hardy Fairbankans clad in fur, fleece, parkas, and all manner of chunky warm boots out there to cheer on the dogs and their mushers.

dog teams start 3 minutes a part, and are lined up in a staging area behind the starting line, waiting their turn. i made my way to the staging area to see how Phil and his dogs were doing and to give him my best for the long journey.
the staging area is a fun place to be, surrounded by dogs whipped up into a barking frenzy excited to start their race. if you've ever been around sled dogs, you know that sheer joy is defined by a dog about to run. and this was Team Joy. these guys looked good, they looked happy, and they were ready to go. Here, Phil checks a bootie on one pup while his handlers deal with the rest of the dogs (that's his fiance Kumi behind him in the blue, ruffed parka).

Phil's a cool guy. he's about my age, has been running dogs for about 8 years, and reminds us all that working with these dogs is an honor and a privilege. i met Phil through work, where he is a fishery biologist. two years ago, Phil made the same attempt at this race, but was thwarted by a nasty blizzard on Eagle Summit. while he was able to weather the storm safely with his dogs, he and several other teams were evacuated from the mountain. As he looks toward the starting line, Phil hopes to cross the finish line in Whitehorse behind his pups and he has a gaggle of supporters here in Fairbanks to help him.

one final check of things up and down the line, a few well wishes from friends...

and Phil's off! check out the yukon quest website to track Phil's progress, look at the race course, learn about sled dogs, and other cool stuff.

good luck, Phil, and we'll see you in Whitehorse!

Sled dogs

2008-01-23T22:05:00.001-08:00

i've got a nephew that loves huskies. i'm not sure that he's ever spent much time around them, but that doesn't stop him. he also loves polar bears and i KNOW he doesn't see them much either. fortunately for Timmy, he's got an auntie who lives in Alaska. last week, i was in Tanana (where i used to live for those of you who remember) doing some research with a few folks and this is one of the folks i visited: Lester Erhart.

Lester's a cool guy. he breeds, raises, and races sled dogs. he's one of a handful of Alaska Native village residents maintaining an old tradition of keeping dogs. historically, dog traction was the primary means of transportation in bush Alaska. Trapping, hauling wood and water, and travel between the seasonal camps that were home to Athabascan people up through the 1950s were all made possible by dog teams. dogs were the original snow-mobile. and these dogs didn't just work in the winter when there was snow. many teams were harnessed to boats, lining canoes and boats up the Yukon River to summer fish camps.

many people in the villages still use dogs for work, but racing has also been added to their repertoire. as any dog musher knows, these guys are critical to any good working or racing team: the leaders. Dog mushers have endless stories about the amazing intelligence and experience of their leaders to get them out of all manner of fixes.

keeping dogs is a full-time job in itself. here a neighbor's house, also a musher, is storage for all the harnesses and gang lines, snow hooks, and other dog sled stuff. Lester keeps his in a separate shed by his dog yard.

all of these dogs have their own personalities and skills. Dog mushers spend a great deal of time with their dogs learning their possibilities and limitations and figuring out where to put them in a team.

how 'bout this guy?

and once they're all together, a dog team is an amazing thing to witness. in Fairbanks on the trail system and in the villages right on the roads through town, a dog team running at full speed can literally sneak up on you making no more sound than the wind, and gliding right past you with a low whoosh...

in the line-up, they bark and yip, jump and howl, but the moment the musher lifts the snow hook, it's all business with no time to talk. it's racing season in interior Alaska and these guys are off!

Dog booties

2008-01-13T21:52:00.000-08:00

Here in Fairbanks, we pay attention to the temperature. when the temperature outside can go from -20F one day to +10F the next, it matters what the temperature is outside. it's not just whether or not woolies will be part of the ensemble on any given day, some days the temperature tells us what we'll likely be doing that day. we pay so much attention that it's not that unusual to check the temperature at the house, then log on to see what the temperature is downtown at the airport, up at Birch Hill (one of our two developed skiing venues), and then call around to our friends to see what it is at their house. all of these readings are part of the complicated calculus that tells us what to wear, if we can skate ski or classic ski, whether or not the dogs will be wearing booties outside. on Saturday, we woke to -24F at the house, -33F at the airport, and -22F at Birch Hill - no inversion. no skiing and the dogs were wearing booties.

Cob and i took Nuchie and his friend Molly ("Poops") on a walk, since -24F below is not much good for anything else. strangely, -24F didn't seem to bother the dogs much, or at least not as much as the booties did. both of them high-stepped around the house like Tennessee Walkers until they got used to their booties. or until they get outside and the mad glee of being out there overwhelms them!

things got a little frosty...

ok, things got a lot frosty...

makes our beaver hats look like bad '70s hair, eh?

knitted leaves

2008-01-12T21:14:00.001-08:00

yesterday i finished one of the more difficult things i've ever knitted. its difficulty for me came not from the skills it required but rather from the thoughts that are as much a part of the finished project as the yarn. you see, knitted things (or at least things i knit) always have a recipient before they come into being. whom they are knit for is as much a part of the process as selecting a pattern, choosing yarn, and sizing it. i need to know who the recipient is because each stitch is not just made up of yarn, but also of thoughts. in this way, my knitting is woven together (hopefully) by skillful stitches and a complicated tangle of memories, thoughts, well-wishes, and hopeful reflection. (this is not including the couple of times when i got engrossed in some Law & Order episode and briefly forgot what was going on with the yarn in my lap...)

what i just finished was a prayer shawl. a prayer shawl is an old craft, made completely by hand, for someone who is ill or grieving. it wraps its recipient up in all the warmth of beautiful yarn woven with the thoughts and prayers of its maker. it's a woolen hug.

the one i finished today is for a friend of Cob's who lost a child. losing a child is something i can't imagine beyond imagining that its terribleness exceeds words. and i know that learning to live through loss is a terrible and necessary journey. so, i trimmed this shawl in knitted leaves, which always remind me of life and its promises.

eight years ago when i suffered a loss that exceeded my power to describe it, my sister gave me a small plate made by a local artist from her area, decorated in the center by a tree whose sprawling branches unfurled out into curling leaves. the tree of life, she told me. since then, i take a certain comfort in the trees around me, and i pay attention when they leaf out in the spring. i inspect them closely, watch their progress, cheer them on, and silently thank them for coming back.

they are simple things, these leaves, but as part of venerable old trees or brand new saplings, they endure and reinvent themselves. in some very basic way, they are life itself.

in times of loss, there is precious little any of us can do. i did my best with my one good skill to make something warm and beautiful, and i lent it the power of leaves to help my husband's friend.

winter martinis

2007-12-31T18:29:00.000-08:00

“hello?”

“is this brown?”

“yes.”

“this is your sugar plum”

This is how one of my more interesting Saturday nights began. Last Saturday, my friend Ed Plumb (aka Sugar Plum) and his roommate Trevor, invited us to a “small” martini party at their house, a few miles away.

We arrived, martini shakers, a bottle of vermouth, a bag of ice, and a lemon in hand, and got to mixing drinks. Actually, the very talented team of Trevor (on the classic style – vermouth and gin, dirty or clean) and Dea (on the sweet and fruity versions – mango/lime and blueberry) got the party started.

Even Kat had a drink.

Brian Jackson arrived and the first “Toiletini” was mixed. Maybe it was also the last – it should’ve been if it wasn’t! a Toiletini is a lemon mixer and vodka base with a coagulated clump of chocolate sauce plopped in:

All this vodka and vermouth, gin, olives, and lemon twists gets people dancing. Trevor and Dea taking a break from mixing drinks:

Cob, Kat, and Trevor cutting a rug (actually I think Trevor is doing his moose impersonation):

Sugar Plum, Jim Brader, me, and Kat moving the dancing into the kitchen to Elvis’s “A Little Less Conversation” – can you believe that we actually got everyone in the kitchen to dance?

But of course, if one parties, one must do so responsibly – the designated driver drinking her virgin blueberry martini:

Parties like this are nice little corners-of-the-world to be in on a cold winter’s night during the holiday season.

taking risks

2007-12-22T10:55:00.000-08:00

so, it's 3 days before christmas and i'm scrambling to finish up a few things before heading to Seattle to meet Cob who is already down there with his family for the holidays. i dropped him off at the airport, came home and cleaned the house , and laid out my tasks for the week-end:

from top to bottom:
1. baby sweater for new baby Liam in LA - needs buttons
2. sweater for MIL (mother-in-law for those of you who don't speak 'knitting') - also needs buttons
3. winter cap for our friend Paul, who married us and whom we'll be visiting over the holidays - needs ties
4. winter cap for Paul's wife, Carolyn, an accomplished knitter and quilter herself - DONE!

oh, and then there's Cob's christmas present, which he doesn't know about yet, but i'm banking on the fact that he won't check this blog while on vacation, thus allowing me to take this risk of all risks of sending an image of his present (whose very existence i've guarded for months!) out into the ether. (i also know, however, that if he does check this website, he will no doubt not mention it since he wouldn't want to ruin my surprise - that, or he'll actually forget!) this sweater, by the way, represents my latest attempt to remake Cob into a metro-sexual. it's a job i fail miserably, stuck as he is on his beer t-shirts and pro-rodeo cut wrangler jeans, but so it goes. this sweater is 'blocking' - it's been washed and now it's drying to set its shape. it still needs tag.

and since i have all this knitting to do for Christmas, i'm of course distracting myself with a pair of socks that won't need to make its appearance until NEXT christmas....

i still have 2 too-large-to-be-mobile projects (ie. i can't travel with them any longer) - they will be revealed in due time.

Here comes the sun...

2007-12-21T23:09:00.000-08:00

it happened at 9:08 pm today. the sun came back. or at least the promise of the sun seemed real. today is Winter Solstice, a day more celebrated in the north than perhaps even Christmas (despite our proximity to North Pole, AK). on solstice we get the best present of the year - it comes first in the form of 3 seconds, then 1 minute, then up to a whopping 7 minutes a day of additional sun.

it's Dec. 21, which means about 2.5 hours of daylight that is really more like dawn. we organize our days to spend time outside during those hours, whatever skin might be exposed in these temperatures trying to collect the weak rays. and tomorrow, i will get to do it for 3 seconds longer.

Fairbanksans gather to welcome the sun back and we do it in our usual way - with food and music. this evening, i found myself at Lynne and Charley's solstice potluck with a a large handful of other folks grateful that we'd just passed the darkest day of the year. we gathered around a piano player, a flutist, 2 mandolin players, and a guitarist singing every sun or light song somebody knew the words to: here comes the sun, i saw the light, this little light of mine, you are my sunshine. we dug deep and pulled out House of the Rising Sun. and we sang the sun back into our world, pushing out the perimeter of darkness a little more with each soaring note.

as i walked back to my car, empty quiche plate in hand, i hummed in the pitch black.

little darling, it's been a long and lonely winter
little darling, it seems like years since it's been here
here comes the sun, here comes the sun
and i say, it's alright........

happy solstice to all and may the sun forever shine in your heart.

taken in the village of Nulato on the Yukon River on Dec. 19 at 1:00 pm

weather permitting...

2007-12-12T19:12:00.001-08:00

when you travel to bush Alaska, one phrase is always part of the plans: weather permitting. as in, "i'll be headed out to Nulato on Tuesday...weather permitting." or, "yeah, i'll be home in time for the hockey game on Friday...weather permitting." NOT including this phrase is just tempting the travel gods to get with the weather gods and wreak havoc with your plans.

so, on my latest fieldtrip to Nulato to finalize some research for a project i'm working on, well, i was careful to bow deeply and often to the travel and weather gods. i was trying to get to Nulato. see Tanana on the far right? some of you may remember that i used to live there? Fairbanks is about 150 miles east of Tanana. i had to fly out to Galena to catch another puddle-jumper to Nulato, a village of about 350.

apparently i didn't bow deeply enough. or maybe i neglected some other set of gods that had a hand to play in my latest adventure. this is where i sat - ALL DAY yesterday:

the Galena airport. (at least they have an airport - most villages just have an airstrip). i got a lot of work done, a little reading, a little knitting, and a little visiting with folks passing through.

i'm gonna try to get back to Nulato next Monday...weather permitting.

Ruby Slippers

2007-12-06T12:20:00.001-08:00

there's no place like home. especially when it snows. Us poor Fairbanksans have been laboring under a thin veneer of snow which simply hasn't cut it for those of who ski. cross-country ski, that is. none of that easy down-hill stuff (i can just hear my Outside friends snickering!); i'm talking about gliding across snow on skinny little rails under only your own volition. good stuff. but until a few days ago, our snow was seriously suffering. In Fairbanks, we get snow by mid-October. but for the last two years, we've had precious little snow. according to the weather guys, Fairbanks has seen half the amount of snow it normally does by early December. half. i stopped skiing. so when that magical white stuff fell again from the sky, we did this:

we got out there, as the Princess Cruise commercials command us to. Here we are at Ballaine Lake, about 1.5 miles from our house, strappin' on the gear. not only did we have snow, we had awesome temps. "awesome" for us is about 15F, according to the KBRW radio station in Barrow thermometer about 1 K down the trail.

with all this snow, we were downright giddy with happiness. Cob demonstrates proper form (or at least according to the skiing guy that hangs out on all the trail markers!)

everywhere there was snow. covering the slick ice spots that had emerged under too many pairs of skiis, hanging in heavy clumps on the spruce boughs. it was like a dream - somewhere over the rainbow, even. my ruby slippers:

we ran into friends on the trail - Lisa and Andy. Andy's an amazingly solid athlete, churning his way through many a back-country adventure race. Lisa's a scary good skiier. Last year she competed in the Susitna 100, a 100 mile (not kilometers, folks) race that you can ski, run, or bike. she skiied it. she crushed it. she's awesome.

not quite the bad-ass skiier Lisa is, i'm still pretty happy with all this snow, even up hill. look at that trail, look at those trees, look at the snow. i tell ya'...

the only casualties? Cobbie's beard - he gets a little frosty!

frosty, but happy!

Go 'Nooks!

2007-12-04T18:49:00.001-08:00

Hockey season's back!!!

we love hockey!

why do we love hockey?

we love the beer! this is part of the group in the "sin-room", where we dash in between periods to gulp down a cup of cheap beer. at UAF Nanooks games, beer isn't allowed in the stands (c'mon folks, this is a family show!) so we accommodate. plus it gives us a good excuse to get our sorry butts off those hard plastic bleachers.

we love the knitting!! yes, we knit during hockey. give it up folks, I'm never REALLY going to understand what's going on out there on the ice, so why shouldn't i be productive? in between periods, the TV cameras scan the crowd and focus in on fans and what they're doing, displaying the words "Kissing Cam" or "Dance Cam" to try to get fans to well, kiss or dance. we're holding out for "Knitting Cam." A girl's gotta dream!

we love the fans!!! this is Owen, the youngest member of our group. Owen loves popcorn and hockey and has already mastered the stink-eye if you interfere with his enjoyment of either.

Last Saturday's game was pretty exciting. sloppy, but exciting. there was a lot of this:

that's what a bunch of fans look like when a goal is ALMOST scored. not quite, but ALMOST scored. we sit down afterwards. it's a little anti-climactic.

this was our losing score against Northern Michigan. oh well, i got a fair amount of knitting done.

of nephews and nieces

2007-12-03T11:10:00.000-08:00

Cob and i traveled back east to Maryland and Pennsylvania to visit family for Thanksgiving. Unfortunately, dues to a little...errrr....camera failure, we only have pictures of the first half of this trip, but so it goes.

our trip began in southern MD at my little brother's new home where he's been re-stationed in the Navy after many years in Jacksonville. this new move exposes his kids to two of the joys of the east coast that they've never really known before: changing leaves and snow! the first is happening as you can see behind us. from left to right: Stehpanie (Caleb's wife - a hot little pistol and awesome sister-in-law. she shamed ma and Cob by the condition of her home after only living there for one month. Cob and i have been in our house for nearly two years and still don't even have pictures on the wall!), Haden (son #2 - 6 years old, i think?); Caleb (my LITTLE brother - I'm the shortest one in the family), me and Cameron below me (son #1 - 8 years?), and Cob.
this is a second glamour shot of Cameron with the family pup - a true love hound!!

we spent a wonderful 3 days with Caleb and his family before heading north to Mom's house at the top of the Chesapeake Bay, where the colors were still delighting us with their brilliance. My other two siblings, Peter and Julie, met us at Mom's with Julie's kids and Peter's wife, Rachata. on Thanksgiving Day, we took a walk around the neighborhood to take advantage of the changing colors and the warm temps. so, what do you do on a walk with your nephews and nieces? well, it starts very normally...
and then you find acorn tops to make into whistles and things get a little musical...
and then you realize that the big leaves that fall from the trees make really good hats and things get more fashionable...(this is Timmy, Leeah, and Ty from L to R)
and then you roll down all the hills and things at that point definitely get a little weird.
back at Mom's house, the kids swarmed around a Japanese Maple that was two small for us to climb when we were kids, but sure does make for some nice pictures now!

and after all that outside fun, we learned that you can use crayons to draw on my Carhartts and it will all wash out...(that's Timmy and Talae on the right working their artistic skills)

The next 3 projects

2007-11-15T18:30:00.000-08:00

with snow on the ground, i've spending a little more time than...um, errr...normal with my knitting. actually i'm embarrassed that many knitting projects have come and gone in my life with no mention here. and i have NO pictures to boot. let's see...a pair of knitted socks (standard Yarn Harlot recipe) in the most beautiful variegated fall colours for a new mother, purple and oatmeal striped mittens made from spun possum and merino wool (claimed by my friend Shannon who was visiting from CO), a few things i can't show here 'cause they're christmas presents, but there's 4 of them (I swear!), and a soft and fluffy blanket for my newest nephew, Henry, in Mississippi. thanks to his mother, however, i DO have a picture of this one!

actually, i made a blanket 2 years ago for this little guy's older sister, Lila Grace. here's that one -

sorry, couldn't resist! she's just cute as a bug - forget the blanket! anyhoo, I taught a friend how to knit a few months back and reaped my reward (other than more knitters in the world) when she traveled to Ireland and brought me back a soft pink cloud of wonder. she bought this for me. FOR ME. this presents a problem for a knitter like myself. i knit for other people. other people knit for me. but i don't knit for me. it just doesn't happen. there have been exceptions, like that cool skirt, but that's the only one that comes to mind. so, here i had this beautiful hank of heathered pink irish wool and a million projects for other people sprang to mind. but she bought this FOR ME. so here's what i did with it:

pretty, huh? but here's the best part:

it's reversible! cables on the front. exact same cables on the back. wa-la! magic!! actually, it's not. it's super easy, but it looks cool and for those of you who know what the underside of a cable looks like, well, i know you're all just sitting there staring at this beauty with envy. i just know it. but you too can do this - i got it as a free pattern from the very cool folks at knitty.com - good people, those.

for those of you in the know, i work on 3 projects at a time: 1) scarf, and almost done; 2) surprise, but almost done; and 3) also surprise and also almost done. that means that i'm in the only-happens-in-a-blue-moon situation to pick 3 new projects to start on. here's #1:

a baby sweater by Tiboodoo for a little guy just born in CA. other possibilities include a vest for me (be careful with this one, i don't know if i can handle two things for myself in one year), another baby sweater for a baby just born in CO, a baby blanket for a 3 year old in Galena, another pair of socks with a cool cable down the side, a pillowcase for our couch. and those are only the choices for things i already have yarn for, but i'm way overdue for a visit to my local yarn store - any suggestions?

2007-10-14T17:40:00.000-07:00

oh my god! was it a month ago already? crikey!

last week, it snowed here. yep, snow. termination dust, as they call it here in Alaska. (refers to the end of the seasonal work schedule when the first snows signal the end of seasonal field or construction work) this means we're hurtling into winter and there's no lookin' back. i love the first snows, mind you, but i always feel slightly ambivalent about the change of season. i love the newness, but i'm also wistful for what we're leaving behind. unless it sucked - then it can go and i hope nature's door hits it on the arse on the way out. but last fall hardly sucked. in fact, we had a beautiful fall, full of crisp, clear days, good times, and beautiful berries.

early September was case in point. Labor week-end found me, Cob and Nuch, and three of our friends (cara, steve, and Mia) at Tangle Lakes canoeing out of reach of society and in search of cranberries. there's a reason for this quest, but i'm not allowed to talk about just yet. all will become clear later. but for now, let me just tell you about this trip.

though it rained a bit as we set off, we really can't complain about the weather given that it was Tangle Lakes country (remember that bike trip from hell on the Denali Hwy? same Tangle Lakes Country). we raced across the first two lakes, survived a short portage into the 3rd lake, and then struggled through a second longer portage (up a hill, across a caribou trail, through tundra, and down a hil through thick blueberry bushes) to the 4th lake, where we eventually camped.

this was a beautiful spot and one where Cob and i have stayed before. it's a crooked little finger of land that hooks out into the lake nicely cleared by decades and probably centuries of caribou traveling its length to reach the water. with plenty of space for multiple campsites and a kitchen site, it also has enough wood around that a dedicated soul might be able to have a campfire every night.

what i love about this area, though, is that is is ripe with cranberries. so we set out to this little corner of the world, with canoes full of food, gear, berry buckets, and laughter, to collect our stash.

one of the best features of our campsite was the trail leading up the hill behind our tents. the trail led up over the hill to higher ground, where one could survey this big sky country in all its glory - oh, and also find more berries. last year, Cob, Nuch, and i trekked up the hill to discover another lake behind us FULL of swans. they must have been gathering there before heading south. there are moments when you just need to sit down and watch the world for a moment as it unfolds one of its mysteries before you. we sat on our little hill, watching what must have been 100 swans swimming around in pairs, honking, and talking over the long journey ahead of them. this year, our 'swan lake' was empty save a few pairs (we were earlier this year), but a few more did gather in the lake we camped on and buzzed our campsite every now and again.

while we were there to pick cranberries, Cara and Steve took some time to fish, Maria napped, i knit, and Cob read us stories. Nuchie squeezed as much love out of each of us that he could.

finally it was time to leave. we had our berries, packed up our canoes and headed out.

i have a rule of thumb about marriage. two people should not be allowed to marry until they can negotiate at least a Class I if not Class II river together in the same canoe. canoeing a river takes communication - there's no way around it. marriage takes communication - there's no way around it. it's a good rule, i think. while we lake paddled and portaged our way to our campsite, we decided to loop around and float down the Tangle River back to our starting point. this meant negotiating the treacherous Class 1/2 of the Tangle River - rife with ankle deep water, scary fist size boulders scattered throughout the river's path, and a current that one could pretty easily out run. ok, so this wasn't the river to test a relationship, but Maria and Steve are about to get married and this is the river we had. plus, though they are both accomplished kayakers, this was their first time ever in a canoe together, so we were working with what we had! they stayed behind us at first as we expertly showed them how to negotiate the river's tricky parts (usually Cob getting out and dragging us over this sand bar or that), until we took a break for lunch.

during lunch, Cara showed me how to fly-fish (i sucked, though she was gracious enough to tell me i did a good job) and had to remind me to keep paying attention after i started hooting and pumping my arm in the air when i hooked my first fish. Steve found two caribou horns in the brushes that he salvaged for cabin door handles and such. we though that looked good on our very own Cara-bou!

after lunch, we jumped back in our canoe to finish making this river our own, and Steve and Maria took off first, bravely facing down the treacherous path ahead. in canoe #2, we all raised

our eyebrows at each other, but we set off behind them. we soon lost sight of them until the river dumped us out into a lake where Maria and Steve were happily chatting waiting for us. ok, so it wasn't a Class II river, and there weren't too many scary sweepers, but i think they passed. and i'll remember this adventure on Nov. 10, as i watch them exchange vows, that they KNOW what they're talking about.

cranberry wednesday

2007-09-20T17:33:00.000-07:00

yesterday, i called my friend Brandy to see if she wanted to take a walk at Birch Hill and maybe pick a few cranberries. this is cranberry season, and for those who know me, little else matters while these little red gems are still available for the picking. Brandy met me up at Birch Hill, Fairbanks' x-country skiing center, a set of trails which in the summer make for great walking and in the fall, low-bush cranberry picking.

Brandy was game, as she usually is. Brandy is the woman for whom the battle cry, "I am woman, hear me ROAR" was made. A fisheries biologist by trade, Brandy moves seamlessly from hardcore, down and dirty, roll-up-your-sleeves-and-git-her-done fieldwork setting up fish weirs across Alaska's Yukon tributaries to a little-black-dress-evening out on the town, where good make-up and highlights really matter. Brandy just got back from a sheep hunting trip (yes, she got one) and we spent our lunch break talking about diamond engagement rings. oh, and picking cranberries.

meanwhile, Nuchie contemplated the universe - er..., i mean stood guard to make sure nobody else moved in our cranberry action.

afterwards, we went for a little walk to enjoy the fall colours. In Fairbanks, it's important to take time to do this since it only lasts about a week. here in the sub-arctic, the leaves turn colour in like, ONE day, then begin their descent to the ground, usually helped along by a windy day or two.

this trail is so wide to acommodate skate skiiers who ski diagonally across the trail and classic skiiers, for whom parallel tracks will be set to one side once there's snow. skiiers in Fairbanks share these amazing and meticulously groomed trails from late October through April.

the turning-yellow aspen and birch leaves made for soft and beautiful walking. it's a dilemma for us every fall: these beautiful falling leaves mean the coming of winter and snow and skiing and fun, but they do cover up the cranberries.

in memory

2007-08-21T18:36:00.000-07:00

it started like this:

Mistopheles (or pheles, or baby pheles, or baby girl) and her sister, Stumpy, were my 24th birthday present. as kittens in the same litter, they got their illustrious start as love children at the California humane society where an employee who was not paying attention allowed a "visit" between two new unfixed admittees. with a start like that, you knew it was gonna be a good life.

they lived in California, then Chicago, before moving to Alaska (not including a brief stint in Seattle), where they were introduced to the great outdoors and all it had to offer, including grass (wow!), bees, butterflies, and other bugs (so cool!), and voles (you have NO idea!).

Though they were litter-mates, they have always been different - that was clear to everyone who met them. Stumpy has half a tail, is a little ornery, a little crazy, a little....um, heavy, and a lot loveable. Pheles was thin and svelt with a long beautiful tail, a sweet and delicate nature, and also a lot loveable.

Pheles, in her quiet nature, taught Nuchie his real place as low dog on the totem pole. Stumpy just hissed at him. he learned through both methods and all three figured out how to live together.

Pheles at 5 years and Nuch at 4 months. this is the 'stink eye' in case you can't tell. it's an effective tool in a cat's bag of tricks.

a more recent example: that's little Pheles crashed out on Nuch's big bed (with his toys!), while he looks on...

the old saying goes that if dogs and cats can get along, it's because cats compete for space and dogs compete for attention. it must be true, since Pheles occupied a HUGE space in my heart, making it grow to be able to confine the enormity of her love.

Baby pheles suffered a serious illness when she was little and in her lengthy drugged state, took refuge under the bed sheets. she never lost that endearing habit for the rest of her life, and was steadfast in her belief that if she couldn't see you, you couldn't see her. she spent a lot of time with her head tucked under a sheet, or rug, or if those weren't available, pressed into a corner so that she couldn't see you. i never knew if she really thought her body sticking out was invisible, or if she just believed that humans were too stupid to figure it out.

Pheles was dignified if ever a cat was. if she was forced to suffer some indignity, like being picked up for example, she refused to look at you. again, if she didn't look at you, you didn't exist. it was just that simple. but if she wanted love, she would march right in front of you and collapse in your path - it was pretty close to irresistable. lately she discovered that the back of the couch was also a good place from which to demand love.

after a mercifully short battle with cancer, baby girl died on Tuesday. but she left behind some lessons i live by:

sometimes, if the world is uncooperative, it's ok to hide under things.

despite the risks, sitting in the sun is an important thing to do.

planting things and watching them grow is also an important thing to do.

and most importantly, always, always, always, no matter how hard, always try to be with someone who is sad or scared if they'll let you, even if all you can do is sit quietly next to them. (and, if you're a cat, rub up against them every once and a while.) over the past 13 years of my life, i've shed a few tears and Pheles was there for all of them.

a friend reminded me today that how hard it is at the end just tells you how good it was while they were alive. i'm grateful that we had a chance to hang out for as long as we did, and that right at the end, i could sit with you quietly and offer you my shirt sleeve to hide your face in.

goodbye my baby girl, and thanks for being my friend for so long.

my "surfing" trip

2007-08-19T14:53:00.000-07:00

ok, still catching up...this time, my trip to LA for the 4th of July.

warning: for those faint of heart for baby pictures, you may need to sit down. serious cuteness coming up.

so, LA holds a special place in my heart for many reasons, not the least of which is a handful of amazing friends. amazing friends, i might add, who are now beginning to reproduce. before said reproduction, i travelled down to LA with some regularity to surf and hang out with them. however, as time passes (and reproduction happens), i find that i'm still traveling down to LA to surf, but i'm not doing so much surfing. now mind you, i'm not complaining - it's hard to drag oneself out of bed for a dawn patrol, pulling on that clammy cold wetsuit, and get psyched about that frigid, grey beach break that is Manhattan Beach, when you can hang out with this instead:

this is BGB - baby girl bowen. this was her pre-birth name - her parents have now bestowed on her the most beautiful of names, Suriya, but to me, she's BGB.

couldn't you just eat her up with a spoon? 2 months old, and bound for amazing things, no doubt.

her older brother is no less a wonder. this is william, or s-dub, short for sweet william. feeding his younger sister at just over two years - who knew? you can't tell from the picture, but this kid has the eyelashes of a camel. chicks will totally dig them.

i travelled out to Redlands to visit more friends and to find, you know, respite from the beach in the 110 F heat of the inland areas. plus, there was this:

this is Mara. proud new owner of the little green sweater i was knitting in earlier blogs, and brother to a bubbly, smiley, and incredibly tow-headed Teo, who is unfortunately not pictured here. Mara and Teo both are of course brilliant in every way...

back to LA, and back to beach (still not too much surfing) and a little...skateboarding. close to surfing at least. while Sal (mom) and i pushed the interminably cute BGB in a stroller, this is how s-dub and Bowen (dad) got to the restaurant:

now this is just painfully cute.

the good husband

2007-08-18T15:53:00.000-07:00

ok folks, after a long absence (which you'll learn about over the next week or so), i'm back! and blogging it seems. so, on to the important stuff.

this has to be every man's worst nightmare: you drop your wife off for a visit with her friends, do a little grocery shopping, swing by again to pick her up, and this is what you find:

4 women, all knitting, all with their feet stuck in tubs of warm water smelling vaguely of lavender, and all with some odd, greenish paste drying in cracked lines on their faces. good lord! what have you walked into to?? what kind of trap is this?? and most importantly, is the door still open behind you for a quick exit???

this is the situation my husband found himself in, poor sap. he might have even uttered, 'good lord...', or maybe it was, 'what the...?', but it definitely wasn't 'wow - cool! can i get in on that?'

but that's exactly what he did, my most accommodating, open-minded, and just generally all-around good husband. he sat still while we painted his face, though he did squinch up his face as if the soft and silky facial brush was 60 grit sandpaper...

this is me mimicking his face...

this is his second try....

ahhhh....much better.

he passed on the foot soak, but picked up the knitting i brought.

two words: honorary ovaries.

my favorite hike

2007-07-17T17:23:00.000-07:00

i'm taking my life's perogative to tell a story out of order. i have many things to report, but none seem as compelling to me this afternoon as this one does. Last Sunday, Cob and i hiked the Granite Tors trail, a 15 mile loop that climbs 2500' up to a set of tors before descending again. on our drive out, Cob happily chirped that we were going on "brownie's favorite hike!" i looked at him sideways and exclaimed that this was not my favorite hike - Pinnell was my favorite hike (a 27 mile point to point over alpine tundra - are you getting the idea that i might like the long haul?). i mean, i really like Granite Tors, but my favorite hike? i don't think so.

firmly chided, Cob didn't mention it again.

we got to the trail head, checked our day packs: 2 litres of water each, lunch, extra warm clothes, rain gear (you know, as insurance for no rain - if you don't bring it, it will for sure rain), bug dope (you know, 'cause it won't rain since we brought our rain gear), sunscreen, matches, etc., and set out.

a hiker can travel in either direction up to the tors as the trail is a loop, but i like the left side, so up we went. we moved through the spruce near the river, climbing up into the birch forest that burned a few years back. this is a picture of it from the other side - all those downed trees never actually burned, they just fell over after their root systems burned out from a hot ground fire that swept through the area. fire is a strange thing and it does strange things. you can see where it swooshed up the hillside in great waves.

the burned out forest (full of fireweed, that beautiful pink-purple flower that colonizes burn areas and so gets its name) is stark and simultaneously monochromatic in its charred face that also makes the color - blue sky, purple flowers, green leaves - seem all the more brilliant. i remember this forest before it burned. the canopy sun-dappled the trail and complicated little eco-systems supported a variety of fauna that will have to wait on the flora to catch up. i've done this hike 6 or 7 times since i've lived here in AK; this is my second hike through the burn. my memory of green is still pretty strong.

we finally make it to the Tors and stop for lunch and a little medical attention for my rapidly developing blisters. Nuch takes up residence on one of the Tors and contemplates the universe - he's a deep guy. Cob checks out some kind of lichen or mineral staining on one of the Tors. Cob tells me that the Tors are granite outcroppings formed when magma formed into a large mass called a pluton under the earth's crust which heaved up during a process called ice wedging (i'm working on memory here, folks, and this physical science stuff is a stretch for me). as the earth's crust eroded away, water seeped into the pluton, froze, and expanded, calving off these great slabs of granite that pierced the ground. or something like that.

the way down was a little tricky - we lost the trail for about a mile, but found it again no thanks to the superior smelling skills of the pup. as we picked our way through fallen trees and over granite rock beds back to the real trail, a thousand memories of previous hikes along this trail seemed as real as the trail itself (and my blister).

it's interesting how a place, even one that has changed as much as this place has, can still populate one's brain with a collection of memories drawn from different experiences, different people, different things that happened in this place. like when i hiked it with Jim and we were totally dehydrated, or when Phyllis, Cob, and I gathered burnt out pieces of birch for Jesse's carvings and it now sits in their foyer, or when i lay in a field of fireweed in front of one of the tors, or when we fished out every ziploc bag and empty container from our eaten lunch 'cause we found an amazing blueberry spot. all of these things happened at particular moments in my life, which had changed a little over the years. i remember when i hiked it with a friend whom i rarely see anymore. and when i hiked it with Jim before he left us. and when Nuch and i made a solo summit just to watch the sky by ourselves. when i first hiked it with Cob. when it burned.

the Granite Tors trail has become a space in which my life has unfolded - and been marked by the passage of time. for the first time, i actually wondered where and who i would be when i passed by this way again. how it would look to me then, who i would hike it with, what we would talk about, what memory i would take away from it to remember later. and then i remembered what Cob said...he was right, Granite Tors was my favorite hike. it was like an old friend who always wants a visit from me and likes to catch up on what's happened since he last saw me. and always, always has a few surprises himself.

the only thing that stays the same is the blisters.

catching up...

2007-07-09T08:52:00.000-07:00

ok, so i'm way behind, which is apparently what happens when you travel too much.

after St. Mary's, i had a day and a half in Fairbanks before heading back out to the Yukon - to the village of Grayling this time. Grayling is an interesting little village in that it was moved to its current location on the Yukon from the Innoko, a tributary of the Yukon directly to the east. On the Innoko, the village was called Holikachuk. the village was experiencing significant flooding, and so folks picked up and moved due west in the 1950s. This move made sense since many of the summer fishcamps used by Holikachuk residents were on the Yukon and they traveled there every summer. however, many Grayling residents continue to use the Innoko country for many of their other subsistence uses, inlcuding mosse hunting and harvesting whitefish and migratory birds.

Grayling is up river from St. Mary's and our visit continued to track with the upriver progress of the salmon. this was cool since it afforded me my very first opportunity to driftnet. drifting is a style of fishing when you set a net from a moving boat - basically one that is drifting downriver and the net drifts with you, snagging fish along the way. each drift takes about a half-hour to an hour, depending on the strength of the run. drifting is hard work - our first attempt yielded us this HUGE lochness monster-like tree root wad, which was a lot heavier than a salmon, or even several. not so much fun to catch wood.

that's Chase, my drifting teacher. He's 11 and has been working with his uncle since he was 5. Chase was a good teacher - look at our fish!

our catch was brought back to Chase's aunties, who then enlisted our help in making salmon strips. strips are hung to air dry for a day or two before being moved into a smokehouse where they will be smoked for a few weeks and then frozen for winter use.

this is a another family's smokehouse. those are backbones hanging on the outside which will be dried slightly and either used for dog food or boiled to remove the meat for jarring.

we were doing the same work in Grayling that we were doing in St. Mary's - documenting local knowledge of the salmon runs. believe or not, that's NOT me mapping historic fish camps with Henry Deacon, the traditional chief of the village. that's Catherine - we've worked together for the last several years and are regularly mistaken for each other - even when she was pregnant!!

the youngest researcher

2007-06-23T16:13:00.000-07:00

ok, i've got exactly one day between field trips to get this post out before i'm on to new adventures, so forgive anything here that may seemed rushed! we just returned from St. Mary's, a Yup'ik village on the Andreafesky River, a tributary to the Yukon in its lower reaches near the mouth.

"We" is a gang of 4 doing some research on local knowledge of salmon: me, Tori, Catherine, and her daughter, Savonnah, the 4th and youngest member of our crack research team. Savonnah is about 14 months...i'm dying to knit something for her now that i've spent a week with her. cute as a bug and 'full of beans' as her mother says!

that's the little stinker reaching for freshly hung salmon fillets - more on those later...

St. Mary's is a cool little place - about 550 souls - that combine subsistence and commercial fishing (for salmon) to make a living. we got there during the first pulse of salmon to enter the river. so we saw a lot of this:

cutting fish by the river bank

and this:

stretching salmon fillets that have been scored to hang and dry for winter use

and this:

salmon strips hanging in a smokehouse to dry - pictures do not do this sight justice. salmon strips literally drip oil as they dry and are among my favourite foods...

we also saw a lot of net repairing going on. St. Mary's residents catch most of their salmon using gill nets, and specifically drift gill nets, where the nets are set out of a boat in the middle of the river and the net and boat drift downriver with the current for a spell before being hauled back in, hopefully full of fish!

ever wonder where the fish you buy in the grocery store comes from? chances are, if you're buying fresh Yukon River king salmon, this is where! this is the dock of the Boreal Fish Processor in St. Mary's - many of the commercial king salmon pass through this dock.

with dirt roads and a little rain, a village can be a muddy place. we found this sign on an elder's door - i'm thinking of making one for myself! now, if i could only teach Nuchie to read...

unfinished projects

2007-06-17T00:00:00.000-07:00

i've been thinking about unfinished projects - some are easier to deal with than others, so these are my most beloved unfinished works. the baby sweater, now claimed by Kimmie for her most beautiful daughter, Mara Brodie Wuhs Coles de la mancha...

baby pants - for baby Anna Kay. these were a suprise until i was stupid enough to leave them out for her mom to see. all done, 'cept sewing in the elastic at the waist.

a hat - for someone i won't name yet, since i still have a hope of keeping this a secret!

a blog on unfinished projects wouldn't be complete without a picture of Cobbie's unfinished project: the "19 year sweater" - you know, the one he started during the Reagan administration? yep, Cobbie knits, and knits beautifully, if slowly. he's almost there - the body's done, one sleeve is done, and he's nearly there with the second sleeve! Go Cobbie! now he's just looking for someone who it will fit (i had him size the sleeves on my arms just in case...).

then there's mystery #1: close to done...

and mystery #2: not yet started, but destined for great things...

rock star

2007-06-14T21:24:00.000-07:00

last monday, i attended an event that was a knitter's version of a rock concert. when i say rock concert, i mean one of those great big huge venues with cool light shows and smoke and big sounds, or maybe i mean a small, intimate venue where you can see whether or not your rock star is sweating or merely glistening - depending on what you like. the point is that it was big. HUGE. it was the Yarn Harlot.

the Yarn Harlot, aka Stephanie Pearl-McPhee, is a knitter who also writes books about knitting - very, very funny books about knitting. i've been a fan for a long time, primarily through her blog . which is cool and funny. very, very cool and funny (are you getting the idea that i really love the Yarn Harlot?) she's currently on tour launching her new book and she came north for the FIRST TIME (except that sh'es actually from Canada so she might already know a thing or two about the north). so, without a second thought, i trekked down to Anchorage ('what?' you say? 360 miles just to see a knitter? did i mention that it was the Yarn Harlot???), and Tracie and i went to see our rock star.

now, the Yarn Harlot is not just any old rock star - she's a socially conscious rock star. we were instructed to knit hats if we had time - the hats would be collected and donated to a local Anchorage area charity - a homeless shelter, a domestic violence shelter, etc. Tracie and i both knitted hats:

although Tracie was a little concerned that hers was more of a yarmulke than a hat really. i think it's odd that without even trying Tracie and i both knit hats in shades of purple and yellow. hmmmm.... anyhoo, after a short wait in line and a slightly longer wait in our seats, the Yarn Harlot came out and delighted us with her wit and humour. and let me tell you (i think only another knitter will understand this) how cool it is to sit in a room with about 100 other people who are all KNITTING. we might have even been swaying together as one to the sound of her voice holding up our needles instead of lighters. it was cool.

afterwards, she signed copies of her books and i had my picture taken with her. upon seeing my picture, both Cob and Mia noted just how positively giddy i look standing next to the Yarn Harlot. i was so giddy, i barely remember the experience! to top it all off, as i put my camera back into a running sock which doubles as a high-tech camera case, she jumped up and took a picture, exclaiming that it was the best use of a commercial sock she'd ever seen! the Yarn Harlot took a picture of me! ohmygod - how cool!

the green sock i'm holding is a sock that travels with her around the country and figures prominently in many of her pictures - this sock has a better life that me, i say! anyway, unless you follow the Yarn Harlot, you have no idea what a thrill it is to hold the green sock. giddy doesn't even begin to describe it!

toy forest

2007-06-05T19:17:00.000-07:00

last week-end, we planted trees. oh, did we plant trees! see, when our house was built, the contractor did A LOT of dirtwork - apparently trees get in the way of this endeavor. so this year we thought we might try to re-establish a few of those lovely trees. our effort started in Nenana, about 60 miles south of Fairbanks on the road system, at the Woodland Farms, a really cool tree and reindeer farm (only in Alaska) full of beautiful pines, spruce, birch, etc. we planned to get about 12 trees but the sight of all those baby trees got to me and i selected 15 before Cob cut me off. i tell you, baby trees are almost as cute as baby animals. but less mobile. not really a bad thing, though. we selected our baby trees in early May, and when the farm called to tell us that the ground had thawed and they'd balled up our trees, well, we high-tailed it down there to be reunited with our little forest and bring 'em home! (this required a not-so-bad 14 ft U-Haul rental).

Cob and Stumpy taking a rest after we spent the evening moving around members of our toy forest to figure out their permanent homes. i think Nuchie is after a mosquito...

our friend Dave came over early to help us get the first ones in the ground - that's Cob and Dave consulting over one of two chokecherries that now stand tall (or at least about 5-6 ft tall) in front of kitchen windows. i've been obsessed with having a chokecherry ever since i tasted a friend's chokecherry bounce, a wonderfully purple sipping alcohol. if any of you see that in your future, you're now looking at the very beginning of what i hope will be a long and happy relationship between me and my chokecherries.

then of course, there was beer.

then more trees...

this is Stanley, a lodgepole pine. Stanley is about 5 ft tall - check out his little pine cone beginnings. now, i don't know much about pine reproduction, but i think these are spores - see that little cloud of yellow dust? so cool! you just gently nudge his little pine cones, and poof! yellow pollen or spores or something! i did this about 25 times until Cob suggested that i leave Stanley be. sigh.......................

in case you're wondering, they all have names. other than Stanley, we also are home to Sylvester and Adrienne the chokecherries (Cob calls this our Philly corner); Steve, Julia, and Olga (2 pines and a birch) in the front; Gabriel, Fidel, Ruby, Leo (Cob says short for Leonid), and Josephine (3 pines and 2 spruce on the front slope); Bert and Lucia, the birch and Siberian larch off the deck; Fanny and Bruce (a spruce and a pine along the driveway); and Amythyst, the lilac in the built-in planter. ask me in 6 months if i remember any of these names, but they all have funny stories behind them, i assure you!!

that's a little herb garden at its base!

and then more trees.

Kristin and Jeremy came by to help us plant half of our forest (can you believe they're still talking to us after the Denali debacle?) that's the group planting Lucia and Bert the birch.

all the while, Nuch made sure to keep the dirt pile from walking off. its' a tough job but somebody's got to do it.

ok, i admit it, this doesn't have much to do with tree planting. but, it IS purple and look how pretty! whoever decided that chives should have perky, puffy, purple flowers - genius! total genius.

and how does Nuch sneak into every picture???

Type II Fun

2007-05-29T18:57:00.000-07:00

a few weeks back, friends P & C invited us along on a memorial day bike trip on the Denali Highway. the Denali Highway is an unpaved road, approximately 130 miles long, that connects Cantwell to Paxson, south of the Alaska Range. seemed like fun, P & C are fun, biking is fun, memorial day is fun - what was there to say "no" to?

after tempting us with such fun, P & C were unable to make it, so we invited other friends, Kristin and Jeremy. after some negotiation, we modified our trip to two days and 60 miles, which seemed ambitious enough, and headed south. and yes, we checked the weather: partly cloudy, scattered showers on Sunday, highs near 60F both days. but, this is Alaska where weather can change on a dime and the last thing you want is to be in the middle of nowhere with no dry clothes.

we decided to bike from the Tangle Lakes campground to the Susitna River, so the boys shuttled a car in while Kristin and i busily packed the bikes, or maybe we took naps. Kristin's impersonation of a blue tarp burrito:

the weather looked a little less optimistic than "partly cloudy with highs near 60" but we were confident until we hit this:

biking in a cloud.

as we climbed up to the 4,000 ft. MacClaren Pass, we stopped to put on another layer. then we stopped to put on a third layer. then a rain jacket. then panier covers. then rain pants. and still we climbed. oh yeah, and there was wind. once we reached the top of the Pass, we faced the long downhill - cold, wet, windy. nothing like a screaming downhill in those conditions! we reached MacClaren Lodge none too soon and warmed up with some hot chocolate.

with hypothermia no longer knocking at the door, we were able to come to our senses and ask for shelter. unfortunately the lodge was full but they offered us the musher's cabin; there was no heat, but at least it was dry. Cob, a man i'm now convinced knows EVERYTHING about fire, reassembled the small woodstove and had it cooking in no time. so, now we had dry AND warm. it just doesn't get any better than that!

the next morning, we faced another rainy day, which might explain why we weren't motivated to leave the lodge until noon. while my socks dried out over night, i couldn't afford another long day of wet feet, so some plastic bags between two pairs of socks kept at least some of the rain and mud out the next day.

with 35-40 miles in front of us, we set off, climbing out of the valley and up a hill that pretty much didn't stop until what felt like 35-40 miles later at the car. it pretty much rained the whole time except for that brief, shining moment when it hailed slightly. we stopped for lunch under a bridge to get out of the rain.

Jeremy modeled Kristin's pink hat (she was wearing his):

and then we set off again. now, i've biked/run/canoed/hiked in the rain - rain doesn't bother me. what bothers me is to be in one of the most beautiful places on earth and not be able to see more than 50 ft in front of me. which means no expansive vistas, no looming mountains, no magestic glaciers. but we did get to see mud - on our clothes, our bikes, our water bottles, our faces. mud everywhere.

at one point in the day, it must have warmed up to about 50F, which felt downright balmy, and the clouds lifted enough to see this:

now, just imagine that as an entire mountain range in the distance. that's what we missed. but what we did have was good company, and good fun - "Type II fun" as one friend called it (the kind where you're glad you survived and feel damn virtuous for it) - but fun nonetheless.

p.s. on our way out, we added one more precipitation to our experinence - snow.