It's always one of those cliche conversations but today it just feels so pervasive. It was muggy and overcast all day yesterday and today it's humid, sprinkly and completely gray except for the Alaska Range and Denali which was in full view as I drove down the Steese Highway this morning. The sky above the mountains was perfectly pale blue with tiny fluffy white clouds and it looked like our section of the sky was just painted with gray. Hopefully some of that weather moves up here.
The hills went green about two days ago and so even with the rain it's not that bad. Having that light, bright green everywhere makes this city so much more beautiful. Some irises I transplanted last year (against their will) have decided to make the best of it and have not only come back but seem to be increasing. I will finish planting my small garden this week probably; I usually do a box of lettuce for sandwiches and salads and a box of carrots, which are snacked on through the summer, and a box of wildflowers for my personal enjoyment. You don't expect to find anything pretty tucked away on the side of the house, so I like the concept of having a Secret Garden of sorts. I'm rather new at gardening but there is something so great about weeding so maybe I do have the knack for it.
I have the urge to drive directly to the store today and buy rice krispies, come home and make a giant pan of treats along with a huge pot of goulash. And gorge myself on carbs whilst hunkered under a cozy blanket with something brainless like A Knight's Tale to watch. That exact formula for happiness brings me back to our first apartment and what we did on rainy days. As a new bride I didn't cook veggies all that often and had about three recipes under my belt so even goulash I had to learn from my husband. I think I could make eggs, enchiladas, spaghetti, carrot cake, and pumpkin pie. Not a large repertoire, but he didn't criticize and now I can cook. I'm not gourmet or anything but most nights I make something homemade and eight years later it seems easy. Honey if you're reading this Happy 8-Year Anniversary this week, still think I'm the most fortunate woman in the world to have you and marrying you was one of the best decisions I ever made.
To rainy days! And sentimentality and melancholy thoughts and the color green. Oh, and a low fire season, sorry to everybody who makes money off of fire, but please Dear Lord could we please have a smoke-free summer?
I leave you with the song that's been stuck in my head for a couple of weeks:
Sumer is y-cumen in;
lhude sing, cucu!
Groweth sede and bloweth mede
and spring'th the wode nu!
Sing, cucu!
Awe bleteth ofter lomb,
low'th ofter calve cu;
bullock sterteth, bucke verteth;
murie sing, cucu!
Cucu, cucu,
well singest thu, cucu;
nae swik thu naver nu.
Friday, May 20, 2011
Tuesday, May 17, 2011
Bando
Well, we got a dog. His name is Bando. We were thinking about Bandit, but Mia kept saying "Bandaid", and I didn't want a dog named band aid. He's now 11 weeks old and a husky-beagle/lab mix. He's pretty cute and very puppyish. Meaning he pees in the house and teethes on everything including us. He's definitely a lot more work than I bargained for, but I'm not giving up and in three years or so he will be a great family dog. Hopefully my training will be so excellent that he will learn even faster than that and do his business outside like a civilized dog and stop terrorizing small children with his puppy exuberance.
Everyone including my husband keeps telling me that he's not a baby. Apparently they think I'm confused; I actually do feel a little confused and googled "puppy postpartum" in the days just after we brought him home. It really is strange how having him has brought back fresh all the memories of how unsettling it was to be a first-time mom. You're sure you're going to screw it up, the only horror is the anticipation of how. You have no sleep and everything becomes a huge deal. And you love your charge fiercely even though they seem to eliminate with impossible frequency. The best days are when I don't worry so much about him ending up with some incurable behavior problem. Or when I repeat what is supposed to be my new mantra: "He's a DOG." There have been a lot of awesome moments with him and he seems to be learning some things, so things are looking up. Change can be really good.
I was tucking Mia into bed the other night and we were discussing Bando. She affirmed that she liked him, that she loved him, and that he was her friend. I said,"He makes a lot of mistakes, doesn't he." And she said, "Yeah, but that's ok, we'll take care of him." I think that moment alone makes it all worth it.
Everyone including my husband keeps telling me that he's not a baby. Apparently they think I'm confused; I actually do feel a little confused and googled "puppy postpartum" in the days just after we brought him home. It really is strange how having him has brought back fresh all the memories of how unsettling it was to be a first-time mom. You're sure you're going to screw it up, the only horror is the anticipation of how. You have no sleep and everything becomes a huge deal. And you love your charge fiercely even though they seem to eliminate with impossible frequency. The best days are when I don't worry so much about him ending up with some incurable behavior problem. Or when I repeat what is supposed to be my new mantra: "He's a DOG." There have been a lot of awesome moments with him and he seems to be learning some things, so things are looking up. Change can be really good.
I was tucking Mia into bed the other night and we were discussing Bando. She affirmed that she liked him, that she loved him, and that he was her friend. I said,"He makes a lot of mistakes, doesn't he." And she said, "Yeah, but that's ok, we'll take care of him." I think that moment alone makes it all worth it.
Sunday, April 17, 2011
Adele and Pizza
Yes I know, an odd combination but it makes sense in my little world. First of all, Adele. Wow. I'm not your typical fan-girl who gets crazy about every single brand new artist to come down the pike. Also, I realize with humility and a smackerel of shame that she's not really a brand new artist. Apparently whilst I was asleep under a proverbial boulder, Adele won two Grammys in 2009 (no big deal, am I right?)... uh, yeah. I only discovered her a couple of months ago and now I can't shut up about her. My favorites in no particular order:
I honestly think that so far in my relatively short life, she has the best voice of any female vocalist I've heard. I appreciate her range, her control, and am enamored by the fact that she writes most of her own stuff. Her education in music only deepens her ability to create and gives her more tools to utilize though some of it I'm sure she was born with. Sigh. If I can convince one person who has not heard her yet, please go to YouTube and check her out. Here's the link to Make You Feel My Love... it was the first I'd heard of her and my infatuation started there.
Now for the pizza segment of this bulletin. I've had a pizza recipe that I have been using almost weekly for a solid year. Last week it failed me in a big way. It was a doughy, almost inedible mess. Too bready, not crisp on the outside, soggy in the middle. Words escape me to describe how truly awful it was. Perhaps you may have heard me bragging about it in the past: "I can go from nothing to pizza in 35 minutes." Well, it tasted like it took no time, I can tell you that much. Last week's episode pushed me over the edge and I was starting to abandon the idea of delicious homemade pizza, when led by fate and destiny into the environment of an Anchorage pizza place named comfortingly, Uncle Joe's Pizzeria, I realized the perfect crust is out there and it's up to me to find out how to make it. I've found some promising instructions on the interwebs, and have access to a covey of lovely friends who can actually cook, so my prospects are good. I am now investigating a pizza stone and I'm getting excited about pizza again. I will let you know when I have a finished product worth taking a picture of (and eating). I love pizza so much, I may plant some basil this year for the first time, any advice would be welcomed. I leave you with my favorite pizza-eating song: Mambo Italiano sung by Rosemary Clooney.
- Make You Feel My Love ( a Bob Dylan cover)
- Rolling in the Deep
- Chasing Pavements
- Someone Like You
- Cold Shoulder
Now for the pizza segment of this bulletin. I've had a pizza recipe that I have been using almost weekly for a solid year. Last week it failed me in a big way. It was a doughy, almost inedible mess. Too bready, not crisp on the outside, soggy in the middle. Words escape me to describe how truly awful it was. Perhaps you may have heard me bragging about it in the past: "I can go from nothing to pizza in 35 minutes." Well, it tasted like it took no time, I can tell you that much. Last week's episode pushed me over the edge and I was starting to abandon the idea of delicious homemade pizza, when led by fate and destiny into the environment of an Anchorage pizza place named comfortingly, Uncle Joe's Pizzeria, I realized the perfect crust is out there and it's up to me to find out how to make it. I've found some promising instructions on the interwebs, and have access to a covey of lovely friends who can actually cook, so my prospects are good. I am now investigating a pizza stone and I'm getting excited about pizza again. I will let you know when I have a finished product worth taking a picture of (and eating). I love pizza so much, I may plant some basil this year for the first time, any advice would be welcomed. I leave you with my favorite pizza-eating song: Mambo Italiano sung by Rosemary Clooney.
Tuesday, April 5, 2011
Write your name in the land
I was awake at 5 this morning, a little earlier than planned but what can you do. I lay in bed for a while trying to go back to sleep and thinking about spring. And then I thought about summer, and then I thought about cloudy days, then frost, and winter. Then I had an epiphany. I live in the freaking arctic. Well technically the Arctic Circle is around 125 miles north of here, but close enough. And then the thought: Why do we live here?
I'm glad I asked. I actually have a great answer for this after being here for 30 years. It's good to remember when confronted with the hassles of living in this climate. Here's a partial list of pros:
1. My husband. He lives here. That would seem obvious but I have a thing where I really like being where he is.
2. My family and friends. Including my daughter I currently have five relatives that live here with me and countless dear friends that are "Alaskan Family".
3. Appreciation. When you have the contrast that we do, -60 F* in the winter and up to 90 F* in the summer, you really appreciate things like green leaves on trees and grass on the ground and sun on your face and birds singing, etc. Summer is like a high for me. It's only three months long but who ever heard of a three-month long high.
4. Repeating traditions. I've only ever had one Christmas that wasn't white, and that was in California. It's really, really pretty. Just last night my daughter and I played in the giant icy puddle on our street, and she fell in and cried, just like every other kid growing up in Alaska does at this time of year. It's fun watching her experience the things I did when I was a kid.
5. The sky. I've been to a lot of different places, and the sky looks completely different here, and amazing. When I am not here I get lonely for the way it looks.
Yes I could see picking up roots and moving to a warmer place somewhere along the line, we like Costa Rica a lot... could you imagine eating locally grown mangos on a regular basis? But for now when things get tough, it's dark and cold, or wildfires have filled my valley with smoke, I just remember to write my name in the land. Remember Skylark, the sequel to Sarah Plain and Tall? "You don't have to love this land," said Maggie. "But if you don't love it, you won't survive. Jacob's right. You have to write your name in the land to live here."
You can't spend all your time daydreaming of other places. You must embrace it. And if necessary get out there with an actual stick and write your name in the actual land. When the snow melts, of course.
I'm glad I asked. I actually have a great answer for this after being here for 30 years. It's good to remember when confronted with the hassles of living in this climate. Here's a partial list of pros:
1. My husband. He lives here. That would seem obvious but I have a thing where I really like being where he is.
2. My family and friends. Including my daughter I currently have five relatives that live here with me and countless dear friends that are "Alaskan Family".
3. Appreciation. When you have the contrast that we do, -60 F* in the winter and up to 90 F* in the summer, you really appreciate things like green leaves on trees and grass on the ground and sun on your face and birds singing, etc. Summer is like a high for me. It's only three months long but who ever heard of a three-month long high.
4. Repeating traditions. I've only ever had one Christmas that wasn't white, and that was in California. It's really, really pretty. Just last night my daughter and I played in the giant icy puddle on our street, and she fell in and cried, just like every other kid growing up in Alaska does at this time of year. It's fun watching her experience the things I did when I was a kid.
5. The sky. I've been to a lot of different places, and the sky looks completely different here, and amazing. When I am not here I get lonely for the way it looks.
Yes I could see picking up roots and moving to a warmer place somewhere along the line, we like Costa Rica a lot... could you imagine eating locally grown mangos on a regular basis? But for now when things get tough, it's dark and cold, or wildfires have filled my valley with smoke, I just remember to write my name in the land. Remember Skylark, the sequel to Sarah Plain and Tall? "You don't have to love this land," said Maggie. "But if you don't love it, you won't survive. Jacob's right. You have to write your name in the land to live here."
You can't spend all your time daydreaming of other places. You must embrace it. And if necessary get out there with an actual stick and write your name in the actual land. When the snow melts, of course.
Tuesday, March 29, 2011
Beautiful Things
We are just getting over the two-week crud and over the last couple of days the world has shifted back into beautiful. I am back at the gym, the snow melting off the roof sounds like rain all day long, and there are beautiful things all around. I opened a perfect avocado today, perhaps a random fact, but it was another gorgeous thing I thought was worth mentioning. Above are a few pictures of things I think are beautiful.
Thursday, March 10, 2011
Mia Has Fun
We visited the World Ice Art Championships on Sunday night. They just finished the multi-block portion of the competition so we decided it was the perfect time to go. It was the warmest I've been in several years due to the weather and my new amazing snowpants. The kid's section was very impressive with slides, spinning ice nests, ice tunnels and a sledding hill with lighted tracks! Of course the warm-up hut with hot cocoa and indoor plumbing was also fun.
We went on our snowpants, but the kids who used sleds went super-fast down these tracks.
Mia kissing an ice-sculpture dog. She's not very picky when it comes to dogs.
Mia and Jason hiding out in a small igloo.
Mia's imitation of Lady Liberty. She gets so excited every time we see a picture of her, ever since she got to see the real one in New York. We crack up whenever she does this, she holds perfectly still and gets stoic; it's awesome!
We went on our snowpants, but the kids who used sleds went super-fast down these tracks.
Mia kissing an ice-sculpture dog. She's not very picky when it comes to dogs.
Mia and Jason hiding out in a small igloo.
Mia's imitation of Lady Liberty. She gets so excited every time we see a picture of her, ever since she got to see the real one in New York. We crack up whenever she does this, she holds perfectly still and gets stoic; it's awesome!
Sunday, February 27, 2011
Grandma Anne
For a moment time stood still last night. I saw everything but saw nothing. Then I realized I was still grating carrots for the cake I was making, but with glazed over eyes. Sesame Street droned on in the background. I think I grated a part of my finger around that time. I got a call about my Grandmother. She had a medical procedure done last night and she's going to be fine. But for several all-consuming moments I thought of her, coming to Alaska to take care of me when I was sick, cooking for me, scrubbing floors on her hands and knees, taking care of an 8 month-old baby; did I mention she was in her seventies at the time? She's a super-hero. She helps others when they are in need and doesn't need much herself. Only yesterday afternoon I was thinking about her advice for roasting chicken, and attempting one of my own. One of my most treasured possessions is a piece of yellow note paper that I asked her to write her baked chicken, salad dressing, and hollandaise sauce recipes on. Right there, in her handwriting is the real deal. I know it's right because she wrote it. I have referenced that paper so many times since she gave it to me in 2008... and yesterday I realized I am nowhere close to reconciling any idea of her mortality. Oh mine I've come face to face with but some people just seem like they'll live forever and she's one of them. So thank goodness for everything that's made it possible for her to shop and scrub another day! Love you Grandma Anne. I promise to make you a really good chicken the next time I get the chance!
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