Totally random stuff

It's been a few days since I showed you any pictures that didn't have one of our dogs in them, so I thought I'd share a few things with you that you might not see in your daily lives. I never leave the house without my camera, because Alaska is full of "random" and I want to capture it when I see it.

First, let me show you the Kenai Elks Lodge. This is clearly the most in-your-face Elks Lodge I've ever seen. If the elk-in-the-woods mural on the entire front of the building didn't clue you in, the giant elk statue will.

Yep, fish hook removal is worth advertising, especially when you're a clinic just miles from world-famous salmon fishing that attracts shoulder-to-shoulder fishermen every summer.

No door? No problem. If you (or a buddy) has a welder, some sheet metal, and some stickers, it's every bit as good as what the manufacturer had there before.

We first saw The Burger Bus when Jane was visiting us. James and I decided to go in and have lunch a few days ago. The food was so-so, but the price was right, and it was fun to eat something that was actually made to order in a converted Superior Coach.

The Kenai Home Depot happily acknowledges that this is a tourist destination, and offers help in several different languages. Hm, let's take a look... Three employees speak ASL, two speak Spanish, one speaks Portuguese, one speaks French, one speaks German, and - notice the woman in the middle? She speaks Yupik Eskimo.

What the Belle?

[Today's post courtesy of Jim (of the Wild Ride Variety)]

Today James, Belle and I did some shopping at the local hardware stores for supplies for our home improvement projects. There is no shortage of improvements, as we need to make every square foot count, and we've just added eight roughly oval feet to our house.

Our last stop for the day was Home Depot. James was getting wire shelves cut for the utility room, so I went to look for some lumber. I was concentrating on the different options when a voice called out, "Belle!" This was startling. A man with a young girl in a shopping cart was looking very happy and calling to MY dog, by name. He is the man who took Belle to the shelter weeks ago. He was very happy to see Belle had a home, happy to see her again. The young girl was thrilled to see Belle and was reaching out to her from the cart. Belle was also happy to see them. Obviously there was a lot of history and affection here.

When Belle was very young her owner (not this man) took after her with a hatchet. This guy rescued her and had a vet fix her back up. I don't have any details on just how bad the damage was. Belle is 10 years old, not eight, which is what the shelter told us. She retired recently from being a sled dog because she would overheat. She has never been an indoor dog, which makes us marvel at how well she does in the house.

Belle has escaped death at least twice. Once at the hands of an abusive first owner, and again while waiting at the shelter. We consider ourselves lucky to have her.

Just talkin'

Hi everybody!

It's sort of like what my dad used to say when he'd write me a letter without anything much in it: "I don't have anything to say, but thought I'd better say it before the mailman comes." So this is me, just saying. :^)

It's raining tonight, and the new puppy is overjoyed with it. Which is adorable, don't get me wrong, but trying to get a hyper puppy to go potty in the rain is not much fun. Could be worse though; at least she didn't come back inside and potty. Oh, I spoke too soon.

James was in a fender bender a couple weeks ago, and the guy who backed into him is a plumber/handyman, so Jim is working out a deal with him to put an exhaust fan in the master bathroom instead of paying cash for the repair. The other guy (whose name is also Jim, so I'll just call him "The Other Guy" to keep it from being confusing) came over to see the bathroom tonight and brought his grown daughter with him. The Other Guy and Crystal both like to talk, so we had a long visit and Crystal may come back over tomorrow with her infant son and visit with me some more.

For those who think bears aren't the problem we make them out to be sometimes, Crystal showed me the dent in the roof of her car where a bear laid on it. And there are big bear poops on our land. I haven't seen a bear yet since we got here last month, and I don't want to. The Other Guy only lives about three miles from here, and he says he never lets his kids out to play without at least two dogs running free with them. Read about the two Captain Cook State Park bears here. There are precautions to take, though, and if you're careful, you'll be okay.

At the same time as Jim and I were having our visit, James was plugging himself into the community music scene by accepting an invitation to sit in on a music session at the Senior Center in Soldotna. Not being big on non-Irish music, he didn't know a lot of the songs they played, but he did get to meet other musicians familiar with The Fiddler's Fakebook and the Portland Collections, so there's potential for him to get together with those guys in the future.

Dinner tonight was leftover pot roast made into chili, with a loaf of fresh bread, butter, honey and fireweed jelly. Yummeh. I've also got watermelon rind pickles in the pantry now, too. With the price of watermelons up here, I'm not about to let any of it go to waste!

Well, I suppose I've said enough for tonight and am going to head off to bed in a bit. See you again soon!

Our One-Month Retrospective

Yesterday marked our one-month "anniversary" as residents in Alaska. Needless to say, our lives are vastly different than they were before we got here. Thinking about this, I asked the guys to give me a list of the things that are different for them personally, what they like, and what they might miss about being in Texas. Here are their lists, word for word:

From Jim:

What do I miss: I miss my friends, though I'd usually not see them much during the off-season for scouts. I miss having a garage. That doesn't sound deep, but it was nice having all of that space.

What is different: A lot is different, but a lot is the same. Now, with two new dogs, more is different. We watch a lot less TV, which is good. We're out doors a lot more together, which is good. We don't eat in front of the TV, which is good. There are challenges which we have to plan to meet together, which is good. Everything smells good. I know I embarrass you, but the good smell is very intense, and it is very pleasurable. The birch and spruce trees smell really good. The colors are very intense when the sky is clear. The water is BLUE. The fireweed is bright purple. The cranberries are a red that almost pokes out your eyes. Cook Inlet is sorta gray from the silt. Everything has the saturation turned up a little bit. I feel more alive. The gray days are very, very gray by comparison. The storms aren't (yet) as intense as in Texas. We'll see what the winter brings.

What is the same: We are. Mostly. In the important ways we are.

We did it. It took longer than we thought, but we did it. And I really like it.

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Less poetically and a bit more pithy, here is James' list:

Outdoors is less of a pain, even though there's more that can eat you.

Holy cow, the dogs.

People are nicer. It's weird, and I'm not sure what I think of it.

Less space - you can hear everything.

Going in to town is a bit of a production. - unless it's the M&M.

There's a lot more to be done to the house itself.

There's no furniture. :) [There's furniture here now, so not sure what he means by that]

Prices are higher.

Hardware stores are cooler.

There's so many better views - let's face it, north Texas doesn't have any scenery.

There's a sense of community totally unlike The Colony. Everybody helps everybody here.

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And here's my list:

Our lives are, on the whole, better here than they were in Texas. How? Jim's insomnia has pretty much cleared up, which is a miracle. He seems happier and less content to hole up inside the house. James is easier to get outside, too, although I admit I'm still happy enough to stay indoors. However, right now the balcony overlooking the lake is calling to me to bring out a paperback and a cold drink and tell all my chores to do themselves. James has become quite the handyman, having learned to put up shelves and run electrical wire and all sorts of stuff like that. He's also learning how to handle the aftermath of a fender bender, after being in his first one a couple weeks ago in the Home Depot parking lot. Jim's obsession with outdoor "toys" like the kayaks and the snowmachine are tempered only by his obsession with Belle. Belle and Moya are good additions to the family, and once we get the whole issue of potty training two dogs at once solved, and the dogs all figure out whose toys are whose, we can hopefully congratulate ourselves on good choices at the animal shelter.

Jim is right in that the saturation seems to be turned up a bit here. Everything is just a bit "more".... More purple and blue on the roadsides, more blue in the lake, more mountains, more dogs, more wildlife, more quirky people. An eagle flew right over our house, and watching the float plane take off from the lake is a fun treat. And James is right about more of a sense of community. A medical fundraiser for a 14-year-old with a rare blood disorder packed one of the area's larger churches and overflowed their parking lot with cars. I'm not sure how much money was raised, but the donations were incredible and the generosity of people bidding on the items was amazing. The women in the Homemaker's Club have been very friendly and open to me on the couple of occasions I've seen them so far (I'm going to my first regular meeting on Wednesday), and our neighbors patiently answer all our cheechako questions and offer us the loan of equipment we don't have yet and advice on how to lay up food for the coming winter. Speaking of which, my new life up here has involved hours of pouring over plant identification books and websites so that I have at least a little of the knowledge the other women have about what's edible around here. I've got fireweed jelly in the pantry now. I'd never made jelly from flowers before, but it's really tasty, sort of reminiscent of grape jelly, but lighter flavored and a pretty pinky lavender color. The guys, Belle, and Moya are right now out picking me more fireweed blossoms and checking to see if the highbush cranberries on our other property are getting ready for picking. On our two properties, we have wild strawberries, raspberries, watermelon berries (also known as scoot berries - don't eat too many!), highbush cranberries, and I'm still learning how many other plants have medicinal or food purposes. We had no idea just a month ago that fireweed shoots are a substitute for asparagus in the spring, and that parts of devil's club are edible, too. My new friend Patty introduced us to birch tree syrup and spruce tip jelly, which she makes herself and sells at the Saturday Market in Soldotna. I've learned how to can fish for the winter months and how to filet one, should the need ever arise for me to do it again (and I'm hoping it won't). I'm baking bread much more often now, too.

As far as what I miss, well, I miss mostly things that relate to my former cake business. I don't have a reputation up here for doing cake, so of course no one's asking for any. I miss my ovens and my cooktop, and a pantry, and my Metropolitan. I'm thinking I won't renew my subscription to my cake decorating magazine, because it makes me melancholy that I'm not part of that world anymore. I miss easy access to shopping and will probably be weeping grateful tears when the WalMart opens up in Kenai in the spring.

So, what's the bottom line?

This is better. This is where we were meant to be. It was hard to get to the point of being able to come up here, and hard to get out of our Texas house, and hard to get through the trip, and hard to get our belongings up here (still missing some items). But I'm at peace with being here. Jim and James are, too. It's different, but I'm learning that "different" doesn't always have to mean "bad." Sometimes "different" means "good."

Our three-dog night

I've been saying long and loud, to anyone who'll listen, that after Tate eventually crosses the rainbow bridge, I do not want another dog. No way. No. Way. Guess who the joke's on now...

Alaskans have a different viewpoint of their dogs than Texans do, and for the simple reason that the dogs are a very effective alert system for not just unwanted people, but wildlife as well. People will take their dogs pretty much anywhere with them up here, and for good reason. Some people won't go hiking without their dogs unless they're going in a group. Poor Tate is only an early-warning system in the event that dinner will be late getting to the table, so no one is counting on her being very protective. After some thought, I began to come around to the prevalent way of thinking here that having a large dog around would be a pretty good idea. But what kind? Duke down the street is a retriever, Murdoch two doors down is a lab, as is Rambo across the street. But, in the event that we weren't able to find another samoyed (and we can't) we decided that a husky mix would be a good choice. We tend to like having dogs of questionable heritage and didn't necessarily want a purebred dog.

The Kenai Animal Shelter got in three husky mix puppies, and James and I went to take a look. They also had a four-year-old husky, and an eight-year-old husky. Jim told me absolutely no old dogs, because he didn't want to inherit someone else's behavior problems, plus he'd just get attached to the oldster in time for it to die of old age, so only look at the pups.

The husky mix puppies were brought in to the shelter by a musher who, after a divorce, had to give up his team. There were two boys and one girl, but one of the boys had been adopted before we got there. We were interested in the girl, anyway. My, what a sweetie she is. She crawled up in my lap, but once she discovered James, she was pretty smitten. Before long she'd discovered the toybox and had a pile of toys mounded up at James' feet. Jim wanted to meet the puppy before we brought her home, so we went to run errands and were going to meet back at the shelter later in the afternoon.

I'd seen the other dogs when we first visited the shelter, including the eight-year-old. She seemed so sweet, and I didn't pay much attention to her because I'd been told I absolutely could not have another old dog. And I was okay with that, but still, I couldn't quite get her out of my mind and asked Jim to at least consider her. So, when we went back to the shelter, they brought out the puppy AND the oldster for us to see (after first making sure the oldster was okay with other dogs).

Well, she went right up to Jim and rubbed against his legs and begged for his attention. While blatantly ignoring everyone else in the room, I might add. I kept reminding Jim I was okay with taking just the puppy, but he kept saying we'd give them both a try and see how Tate reacted to them both. And the shelter lady dropped the bombshell, cementing Jim's resolve to take home the oldster who'd chosen him:

She'd been in the shelter more than two weeks, the shelter was full, and some hard decisions were going to have to be made in the next couple days. The oldster's time was fast approaching. She just wasn't being looked at much because of her age and some room needed to be made for dogs who were more adoptable.

So, long story short (or at least, shorter than it could have been):

This is James' four-month-old huskiwhip (husky / whippet mix) puppy, Moya.

And this is Jim, with Belle, HIS eight-year-old husky, going to Home Depot to pick out a new kennel to build outside. HIS dog (and the other two) should have a kennel to play in, and the sooner the better. Yes, Belle is definitely Jim's special dog.

Belle, after a much, MUCH needed bath and shed combing, out on the balcony with Jim:

Chain O' Sniffs:

Tate is completely okay with the new dogs. She cold-shoulders Belle to the point of being rude, but she thinks Moya is the most interesting person she's met in her whole life. Belle is the only one with any issues, really... She's marking territory everywhere, and she doesn't like Tate to approach her crate if she's in it, but that's it. (As if the Miracle Marking Bladder she has can be described as "that's it"). Moya has some separation anxiety, but she's just been separated from her siblings and is in a new place and is very young, so no one blames her. Plus she usually stops crying in just a few minutes.

The current living arrangements:

Moya has Tate's polar bear from Aunt Amy, and Tate wasn't too sure if she should have it, until she discovered that Moya has a small blue and white cow, and Tate chewed that to make them even.

Jim trying to watch tv with a lap full of pre-bath husky:

We'd hoped having a puppy for Tate would give her a reason to want to play more and be a bit more active than just sleeping 23 hours a day. When all three dogs went on a walk with all three humans to the mailbox today, Tate kept right up, no complaining about being tired and wanting to go home. And when the huskies wanted to run back home, guess who ran, too? Tate! She may not be able to keep up the pace when the new wears off, but for now, she's pretty happy. She even seems to prefer Belle's crate to her own, so a trade might be in the future for those two. Who knows?

So if you come to visit us now, there will be a couple more smiling faces to greet you and beg you to go out and play.

Cheechako

Today, I learned how little I know.

Our neighbor, Linda, and her friend Koleen were teaching a class this morning on how to can fresh salmon, and Linda invited me along. I'm interested in plugging myself into the social groups in the area, and I decided to go. Let me say that these women, even the ones there who were half my age, know more about living off the land than I expect I will ever know. Toto, we are SO not in Kansas anymore.

There were seven students in the class today, counting myself but not counting Linda and Koleen. So nine women total. Once they found out I've lived here for a whopping three weeks (as of today!), one of them good-naturedly called me a cheechako. It's a combination of a couple words that basically means "just now arrived." It's as opposite from a sourdough as you can possibly get. One of the other women just as good-naturedly offered to bring me some sourdough starter to rub on myself so I wouldn't seem so new. I don't need to tell you there were some giggles at my expense, but I didn't mind. :^)

Linda and Koleen gave a talk on the differences between the pressure canners they each use, about the different jars, and where the good places were to buy them. Then it was down to the business at hand - preserving some of the fresh red salmon.

Now, just to make sure you understand the situation - I do not like fish. Me no likey. Nope. I do not want to see it, catch it, smell it, handle it, or eat it. But I'm learning to do all those things, with the exception of the actual catching part. Which makes the following video all the more remarkable and explains why my family watched it gape-jawed when I got home:

Yes, that's me, filleting a salmon. And not passing out.

Once the fish were all filleted, we packed them into the prepared jars and canned 21 jars of fish.

Here are the teachers: Linda on the left, and Koleen in the middle.

We were shown how to use Linda's rocker canner as well as Koleen's pressure gauge canner. Seems like canning your fish outdoors is definitely the right way, because it keeps the fishy smell outside where it belongs.

It was while we were waiting for the canning to run its course, though, that I realized how much there is to learn about living here and living the whole Alaskan mindset. The other ladies began discussing the previous classes they'd had, and the classes coming up. They began to share the tales they had of their own canning experiences, their own herb- and berry-gathering stories, and what they liked to do with their canned, dried, and frozen fruits of their labors. They reminded each other which herbs were ready for picking, which berries might not have a good harvest because of the dry summer, and where to get good crocks for making sauerkraut. They also discussed what to make their soap out of (seems like moose suet is good) and what to put on swellings or to put in your tea if you're not feeling well. Brief discussion on the depletion of the kelp beds nearby delaying a class on making kelp pickles, and whether or not there would be time to teach how to make sauerkraut during the same class as the jelly making lesson. An upcoming tea making class would involve all the students bringing the herbs they dried earlier in the summer so that there would be an assortment of tea.

After a while, I'm sure my eyes glazed over as the information overload started to feel like a foreign language bombarding the backs of my eyeballs. I'm going to have to read a few more books on living off the land if I'm going to speak even remotely knowledgeably about anything. Jim's Wild Ride is turning into Deanna's Wild Adventure, too.

Jane's visit

Our next-door neighbor from our Texas house is a flight attendant. Happily for us, she flies the Dallas-to-Anchorage route in the summer, and she had a long layover last night. So she came out here to spend the night with us. Cool, huh?

We picked her up from the gigantic maze of the Kenai Airport (okay, so we just pulled up in front of the grocery store-sized terminal building) and brought her home with us. We got to the house around 9:00 in the evening, and it was such a pretty evening, with the lake so smooth, that she and Jim took the kayaks out on the lake. This time, Jim took the camera out with him.

I have never been out on the lake (yet) and did not recognize this picture as being of my own house from out on the water.

A bit blurry, but I still like this picture because it shows how glassy the water was last night.

Jane leads the way on the paddle around the lake.

We kept poor Jane up late last night - it was 2:00 in the morning, Dallas time, before she got to bed! - but she was still in the mood for a hike or a jog today. Unfortunately, it had rained most of the night and into the morning, and we weren't sure if the trail at Captain Cook State Recreation Area would be too muddy or not. We thought we'd try it anyway.

On the way there, we saw a moose munching the grass along the Kenai Spur Highway just before the turnoff to Halbouty Road. We'd about finished taking pictures of him when another young bull stepped out from behind the rock. (Remember, you can click on these pictures to see them bigger.)

Once we got to the Park, we went down onto the beach and walked a bit. Here's Jane, looking so pretty on the driftwood with the shoreline behind her. We looked at lots of pretty rocks, and trust me, you don't have to be a rock hound to find something to like in the assortment of rocks on the shoreline here. Then we headed back up the road a few yards to the trailhead and hiked the fairly short trail from end to end. It's a shame that today was cloudy and rainy, because this is usually such a good place to see the mountains across the inlet.

While we missed out on seeing the mountains behind all the clouds, we did see a couple ptarmigan. I spooked this mama and she flew up into the tree, leaving a youngster below in the underbrush. Yes, there's a ptarmigan in there, right in the middle of the photo. Remember you can click to enlarge the pics.

This sign as we were leaving the trail explains why the campsites are currently day-use only... Two young brown bears have been sighted daily for the past couple months in the park.

A nice bonus as we were headed back to the car was yet another young bull moose. He was standing near the "End of the Road" sign when we first saw him, munching away at the grass and fireweed, but got tired of being watched and ambled across the road and into the woods nearer the ATV parking lot.

After leaving the trail, we headed into Kenai to the Visitor's Center to pick up some maps to keep in the guest room for future visitors to our house (hint hint). Just around the block from the Visitor's Center are some of the first buildings to be built in the Kenai area. One of them is the Holy Assumption of the Virgin Mary Russian Orthodox Church, and another is the house that now is Veronica's Cafe. We went to both.

Jane stands outside the Holy Assumption chapel. It was open to visitors today (although tonight services were being held, and tomorrow a funeral), so we went inside.

It's really very pretty in a gaudy sort of way.

I like this guy. This is Archpriest Macary Targonsky, retired, who gave us a bit of a rapid-fire talk on the artifacts and icons in the church, as well as some history of the church building itself. He also told us he's a married priest and explained some of the differences between being that and a monastic priest. He had his 55th wedding anniversary earlier this year.

After looking around the church, we went across the street to Veronica's (built in 1918 as one of the original Kenai homes) where Jane treated us to beverages and we split a big ol' slice of carrot cake. The St. Nicholas Chapel was next door (diagonally from the Russian Orthodox church), so we also went there to look in the windows.

Next door to Veronica's, and directly across the street from the Russian Orthodox church, was this private home. I love the flowers in their yard. Definitely click to enlarge this pic.

After our carrot cake, we stopped in at the Fireweed Herb Garden gift shop to look around a bit. There isn't as much herbaciousness as one might think in a place with that name, but it's a cute shop nonetheless. Then back home where Jim grilled fresh halibut, salmon, and reindeer hot dogs.

All too soon, we had to take Jane back to the airport. We hope next time she can stay longer, and bring Scott with her. Scott, I know you're reading this, heehee, so see about making plans to come up and stay with us a few days. We'd love to have you.