Project Runway

Tomorrow is the season premiere of Project Runway. I've watched all 8 seasons so far, but will have to begin Season 9 upon my return :)

Pictures and Boring

Sorry-- I don't have time to condense my journals... so you're getting the whole thing, which is probably not all that interesting. Sorry it's SOOOO long!

Also, I wanted to upload pictures; but, it's not happening. I suppose it will have to wait...

Sand Point Day 3, Second Day of Camp

I was exhausted last night, and, although Liza showered and journaled, I pretty much conked out immediately. I woke at 7am this morning to shower before Camp. I woke Liza around 7:30am.

As we were getting ready, we chatted about wanting to visit the Trident Store and the regular “AC” (which Christine, our registrar at my school in Anchorage, told me stands for Alaska Commercial) grocery store. Norma offered to take us yesterday—so we decided to ask her today if, when she went, she could take us too.

We also talked about how strange it was to get to have “favorites”. As teachers, you can’t have students you like better than others. But, as adults, we’re able to have kids we like being around more than other children. That’s a strange change for me. We’re not here as teachers; we’re here as students too. It was odd; but, there were a few really wonderful children (mostly great in the way they interacted with one another) and it was nice to recognize that.

About 10 minutes to 8am, I opened our hotel room door. We were both cold when we went to bed, so we’d bumped up the heat. Now it was a bit stale and warm in the room. The first few gusts of fresh air felt wonderfully cool. Then there was a horrible odor. I grimaced and realized it was from outside. Mike came in just after and we left with him. Stepping outside felt like walking into a closet with a stink bomb. The horrible smell engulfs us. Mike says it’s much worse when the Trident Seafood plant is rendering (he didn’t know what rendering entailed—other than stink). I think this is just low tide, as Carla said low tide was at 7:55am.

We ride over to the Camp with Mike. Carla arrives just behind us. Breakfast this morning is a bit heavier on the protein, but was pancakes, fried SPAM (that was a first!) and a hard-boiled egg. I ran back to the hotel with Mike on his second run and change into lounge pants, rather than my jeans—since I’ll just be sitting around today. When I return, things are a bit busier. Liza is on her computer and I get on too. I try to check my email, but it’s slow and my responses are a bit tedious. I want to chat with John, but the internet won’t load quickly enough for me to run g-chat. Oh well.

John and I are able to shuttle a few emails back and forth before I’m drawn downstairs. It reminds me of how dependent we are on technology—sometimes for better, but sometimes for worse.

I went downstairs to finish working on my necklace. Merle verbally gave us the instructions on how to finish the necklace. I could hardly believe it, but we did it correctly!!

Yesterday Carla mentioned that she wanted us to start a headdress today. We didn’t know if it would be today or tonight. We asked Shalene and she said it would be better for us to work on them tonight. I was kind of glad, because Merle had said that, once we started the headdress that would take up all of our time. I was just starting to get the hang of beading and didn’t want to give it up. Merle decided she would show us how to make a little ID pouch. The beading is different. Instead of the Aleutian Circle (which is 5B1 with a S4 hook), we do big bead, little bead, and then up through the secure bead (BLS hook). About halfway through, I figure out that the little stitches weren’t better. I was trying so hard to make my stitches small—I’ve always done big sloppy stitches on everything… not intentionally, but as a result of my impatience. In the case of the pouch, though, the beads would have laid better if I had made larger stitches. Alas, bead and learn.

Norma’s daughter, Melissa, found us at about 11am and told us she was making a run to the Trident Store. She asked if we wanted to go. We left our projects. (We were eager to go and Mike had warned us that the store was hard to find if you didn’t go with someone who’d already been there.) Two other girls went with us. The 5 of us arrived at the store and Melissa directed us. We stopped on the dock, because Anne’s mom wanted to say hello. Melissa introduced us. We continued along the dock and up a steep set of stairs. I thought, Wow, this would have been hard to find. Then we entered the door and began snaking through a warehouse—about 60 feet from the first door was the entrance to the store. It was then I realized, I’d NEVER have found this on my own!!! At the Trident Store I saw a few souvenirs I’ll want to come back and explore. We got a couple packages of “Bowl of Noodles”—these seem to be the acceptable meal replacement. I also got a Sparkling Ice drink. I think it costs $1 at Walgreens in Anchorage; it was $2.69 here.

When we return, we pick up our beading again.

This doesn’t last long as it is almost lunch.

The adults eat lunch first. As they wait their turn, the kids hover around the entrance to the food table like sharks. It’s their turn soon enough though.

In the meantime, I fill my plate with food—hot dogs, chili, macaroni and cheese, and crab/octopus cakes. I share with Liza that I thought the food we ate would be mostly like the crab/octopus cakes… more “of the earth and sea” than hot dogs and macaroni. We laughed, because she had thought the same thing. How stereotypical of us!

I spent the latter part of lunch journaling some. I needed to catch up on yesterday’s journal and then wanted to make my notes for today before I forgot.

When I went back downstairs, all the seats at the beading table were taken. I took my stuff over to the bent-hat table and finished my pouch there.

When I’d finished the beading on 3 sides, I had a question for Merle. I sat patiently waiting to ask my question; Merle is big on us waiting our turn for help. When Maryanne came back to her seat, I had to stand up for her to sit back down. Merle looked up after a minute trying to weigh if my question was fast. I took the opportunity and asked her, “I’m wondering if I have to bead along the bottom of my pouch.”

Without looking up, Merle replied, “I doubt you have to do anything.” She then looked up and nodded that it would be fine to leave it unbeaded. Liza had already finished her pouch, so I checked out her decorative closure. I used some of the techniques Merle had taught me to create my own decorative closure.

Merle loves that people want to learn, but she pretends it’s irritating because she wants you to want to do it enough to put up with her curtness. (At least, I think that’s what’s going on.) So, when I finished my pouch, I asked Merle about the diamond-patterned necklace, and she sighed (deeply) and told me it wasn’t too difficult and I should go watch over Katherine’s (a camper) shoulder, as she was working on the diamond pattern now. I watched her and figured it out. You put on 11 beads in a 2 red, 1 white pattern ending with 2 red. You then sew back through only the red beads and then into the secure white bead. This pulls the 11 beads into a diamond pattern with the white sticking out. You then sew back up the secure bead, then 4 red and the top white and repeat. I took a deep breath. I understood that it wasn’t too difficult, but nor was it easy. I looked around for a chair and, unusually, every chair was taken.

I decided I’d go upstairs for a bit and see how Mike’s kids were doing with the mini-bidarkas.

Two of the boys from yesterday, Robert and Bryan were working on their models. I asked permission to watch for a bit. Robert was very easily distracted. He blamed it on the glue on his fingers. Mike asked Robert if he thought glue stopped his ancestors. Robert didn’t really answer. Both Robert and Bryan stayed pretty focus as they worked through the “kinks” in their models—Robert had incorrectly placed a part of his cockpit and needed to fix it. Bryan had to make his bidarka more shallow by adjusting the ribs.

In a little bit, Wolfgang came upstairs with a woman he introduced as Liz. Liz used to work for Pathways in Anchorage and had been kayaking up and down the Aleutian chain. We’d heard about her. She sat down to talk with Mike.

Liz talked about learning to Kayak in Anchorage and practicing in Resurrection Bay. She said that, although she wasn’t very confident in her kayaking abilities, she was well prepared. When she makes camp, she puts up a tarp like a tee-pee (the Black Diamond 4-person tarp) and puts her tube tent under it (MRS “the skinny one”). She explained that the tube tent kept her warm, while the tarp blocked the wind and rain and gave her the space to cook and change clothes. (She was also very excited about her MRS inverter stove, which boils water in 30 seconds.) She spoke about how she stretched the 2 months of dehydrated food from Anchorage by gathering plants. For greens, she uses seaweed and beach greens. She also digs up the brown lily bulbs, which are a startchy ball of “Indian rice,” and cooks this and rhubarb for added carbohydrates. She has been out kayaking for 17 days. She and Mike exchange some information and discuss writing grants to start a kayak summer camp.

One of the more interesting things was watching how Mike instructed while he and Liz were talking. Mike basically ignored Robert and Bryan. I kept thinking that was weird. My instinct as a teacher is to jump in; but, of course, I don’t know anything about bidarka building, so I couldn’t. The boys coped with being ignored. Bryan pushed himself to go back and check (and refine) his work. Robert fiddled with his i-Phone for a minute before looking back over his own work. After about 5 minutes, Mike interrupted his conversation with Liz to give the boys further instruction. They had gotten as far as they could productively go without further information. This makes me think that we often, as teachers, jump in before giving kids an opportunity to really reflect.

Traven asked if I could come in and help with some suggestions for the first and second grade class. I went in and saw a few areas with which I could help. Namely, they didn’t yet have a system for getting students’ attention nor anything to keep all the students engaged during the “teaching” part of the lesson. I modeled—I asked the students to put a finger on the tip of their nose when they were ready for the next direction and to put their hands on their head when they thought they knew the answer. Once I’d helped with that a couple of times, I stepped back and then left. Traven said it was very helpful. Ithaca discovered the irksome reality of all teachers—classroom management takes time from instruction. Of course, ultimately, you get that time back by not fighting for kids’ attention… but, it’s still aggravating. I wouldn’t have stepped in if they hadn’t asked me too (and it did feel a bit invasive); but, it was nice to feel like I knew what I was doing again!

For the most part, it hasn’t been too hard to relinquish the teacher-role (mostly since we’re relatively clueless about how to do anything around here)—though Liza and I have definitely had the teacher vs. adult discussion a lot as we try to navigate our days here.

I’ve sort of flitted back and forth between my journal, visiting with people, and then beading. Chairs had freed up and Merle wasn’t as busy. I asked if I could try the diamond pattern necklace now. Merle sighed and asked if I was going to work on my headdress (I think she was trying to assess where my instructional allegiances lay.). I told her I would, but not until later. She never says yes; she just starts telling me to gather supplies. (I’ve learned that this is yes.)

She helps me get started (the first diamond is done just as I’d described, but with 12 beads not 11). I get 4 done, but keep having too much space between the diamonds. I ask Merle about it and she, without looking over, says, “Well, you’ve probably done something wrong.” There’s no mincing words among any of the instructors. Merle looks over my work and discovers I’ve missed the secure bead. She recommends I cut it off and start over. (I don’t feel frustrated by this conclusion, which surprises me.)

I do stop for dinner, because—as Merle says, “What? Are we going to wait for dinner to get cold?” We have pot roast (which I have always disliked, but am glad my mom always made us take a “no thank you helping” anyway) AND salad. I’m so excited!! I could fill my entire plate with salad, but there isn’t enough. I have 1 helping and come back later for a second helping of salad. YUM!

I try again on the necklace after dinner, but mess up. I start over this time without being told to do so.

Finally, on my third try, I begin to get it. I get 2 diamonds done before Ithaca approaches. It’s just me and Merle at the table. Ithaca explains to Merle that she’d really like to learn to make a necklace. Merle gives Ithaca almost the exact same run-around she gave me, before relenting and getting Ithaca started. This is Merle’s pattern.

I was thinking as I was working that beading is more disciplining your temperament than it is learning the movements. It’s always been difficult for me to sit and focus on tedious, repetitive tasks. But, I have probably spent 9 hours over 2 days beading, and I don’t feel frustrated at all.

I’ve been wondering when I’m going to start learning the Culture. Durrrr. It finally hits me. I’m not here to learn Culture… I’m here to be included in a culture. I feel dumb that it took me 2 and a half days to learn this! But, I reassure myself that certainly in all the years of the Rose Urban Rural Exchange Educator Cross Cultural Immersion program, there’s no way that EVERYONE has figured it out before me. (The competitive part of my culture shines through :) )

I’m reminded of my interview for the ECCI program. I was asked what my culture was—I said that I was raised in a family that deeply valued education and that emphasized family togetherness often over food. Even though I knew this was my culture and even after the ECCI orientation and my sociology background, I still thought other people’s culture was Culture. I thought that I could just learn specific things—like… here is beading; we bead because it weaves the resources of our ancestors with the passions of the… whatever –sort of like a living museum. This is NOT what I’m learning. I kept waiting for Culture to be fed to me. Something I could take notes on perhaps?? But, this is not Culture. I think Culture is only Culture in books and for scholars. Most people don’t live Culture; they live culture.

Okay. It’s 7pm and that means dinner break (5pm- 7pm) is over and the adult classes start. No more typing and thinking for tonight. I’m sure I’ll have more to say on the subject of culture later… but for now I’m just going to enjoy it.

Sand Point Day 2, First Day of Camp

Mike came to our room about 7:50am. We were ready except for our shoes. We put on our shoes (but forget the fruit to take as a thank you) and join Mike in the car.

We start the day at the center with Mike trying to teach us how to say good morning—there’s aang and quilach (the end sound is quite gutteral). I’m so butchering it… I’m afraid to try. He recommends we say this to Sally and Crystal. It’s only after I’m introduced to them that I realize they were the ones I was supposed to greet—oops.

We sit down in the relatively empty center and eat our breakfast. I have a half a biscuit with sausage gravy and a hard-boiled egg. Liza and I thank Carla, Mike, and Traven (the only people here at the time) profusely for including us. We know it’s a big deal for us to be here. We’re also trying to compensate for the fact that we have no idea what we’re supposed to be doing.

Mike invites Liza and I to the beach for the sea survival class with the 5^th-7^th graders. We agree to go, since we don’t know what else we’re supposed to do. We set off about 9:20am and Carla tells Mike we should be back at noon for lunch. There are 11 of us altogether. You can tell the boys are aiming to be a handful even in the first 100 feet of walking. Some of the boys are kicking dirt, others are spitting, and still others are lagging way behind.

One boy, Sam*, disappears far ahead of the group. I’m glad I’m not in charge—and not just not in charge, I’m clueless, I can’t do anything—as this would make me so nervous.

We reach a cliff (or drop-off or something) and begin to make our way down the side. It’s quite steep and I wonder if I’ll fall. About 2/3 of the way down, one of the boys notices a pipe—they call it the peepee pipe. I think they’re kidding, but later Mike says we should find another way back to avoid the sewer pipe. Apparently they weren’t kidding. Yuck.

We begin by walking about a quarter mile on large volcanic-like rocks. They are slippery, which the boys tried to warn us about. I try to walk on the seaweed instead, but it’s even more slick. Everyone is just picking their way along. The students are so resilient, though. Many of them slip and hop back up—just to look for a boulder to climb higher. Suddenly, the rocks change to smooth, tumbled rocks. They aren’t slick and slimy. Instead, they roll from side to side as you try to walk. I lag behind as I try to pick out each step. One of the boys, Bryan, is always behind me, though—which is a bit reassuring. We stop when we finally meet up with Sam—he was way beyond us.

Mike gathers the group and talks with them about what Sam did. Mike emphasizes the need to stay together. He asks the group to recommend an area to build an emergency sea structure. The boys point off into the distance. I couldn’t figure out why there and not right where we were. I asked the boys why there: They said because it was flatter. Simple enough.

Mike asks for 2 leaders and 2 followers. The 2 leaders are Jacob and Jackson. The 2 followers are Robert and Mark. Jacob and Jackson need to make sure no one is in front of them, and Robert and Mark made sure no one falls behind. Robert and Mark adapt to this role by picking up rocks from the beach to occupy their time while others pass.

Eventually, we stop in the spot to which the boys had pointed. The area has a lot of wood. Mike explains about the tides and the grass and trying to choose a place that is protected from water and wind.

I am the first to fall in our survival spot. My foot slides down a hole between 2 boards. Other boys fall; so, we evaluate a few other locations. When we can’t find a better spot, we return to the initial location.

Mike gives the boys several tasks. First, they have to trample down the grass. They leave the grass on the edge standing, as this helps break the wind. Next, the boys are to get pieces of wood. There is a lot of driftwood—so this is relatively easy… although several boys goof off, which delays things significantly.

Mike guides the boys in laying the logs on the side and bolstering these with rocks. The sides are about 18 inches off the ground. The boys then gather pieces of wood to create a roof. They lay the pieces of wood cross-wise to the logs. The boys then tear off grass to lay in the cracks of the roof. This completes the project.

The boys have a terrible time cooperating. It is rather farcical. Liza, Mike, and I agree that, if our survival depended on them, we would die. We have a few near misses with the wood planks (mostly people almost getting bonked in the head and a few almost getting hit in the face). Several kids fall too; but, the worst injury is a scrape.

Initially, Mike was going to get Jacob wet and then the boys would try to keep him warm in the shelter. By the time we get to this point, though, none of the boys are interested in getting in the water. Instead, each boy takes a turn crawling under the shelter. They are pleased with themselves and leave it out there in case “someone needs it to survive”. Given that the shelter is a 15 minute walk from the nearest house that seems relatively unlikely, but pleases them nonetheless.

The single injury (a scrape) is impressive given that the hike back is straight up the steep beach side. (We avoid the route we came because of the sewage pipe.) I go first, and, frankly, I’m surprised I volunteer as trail-blazer. There isn’t a clear path (or really any path). I scurry up, often on all fours, and grab at plants to secure my way. I catch one plant under my nail which hurts immensely… but I don’t want to let go for fear of ending up on the rocky bottom. Even so, I am pleased to go this route rather than walk the half mile back on the rocky shoreline.

When we get to the top, I pull out the snack we were given—Pop-Tarts. I can’t even remember the last time I’ve had a Pop-Tart (although I did try a mini one with my mom as a sample at Costco—yuck). It’s the Cinnamon and Maple Sugar flavor and delicious… or maybe it just tastes good because I’m tired. I’m dizzy and realize I’ve had hardly any water since I arrived in Sand Point. I drink the water in my small bottle and feel a bit better.

Some of the students aren’t able to make it up the sides of the cliff. They end up having to go up another route that Sam finds.

When we are all at the top, we sit in a circle and Mike debrief. (Mike is finishing his Master’s in anthropology and his Doctorate in Education—so he’s video recording a lot of our trip too.) Most of the boys agree it’s better to work together and summarize the ideas behind building a small shelter away from tides and wind.

We head back and somehow I’m drawn to the back where Bryan is lagging. Robert is nice enough to hang back with Bryan and me. Eventually, Bryan is walking too slow even for me and I try to encourage him to walk faster. Jacob circles back around and walks with us. When we finally catch up with the group, Jacob’s parents have arrived with a truck and take all the boys back to the Center. Liza, Mike, and I decline the ride and walk the last bit back.

When we get back to the Center, we see that lunch has been served and quickly join in. Lunch is white rice with a curried ground beef gravy.

During lunch, Liza and I sit with the kids and end up visiting with Norma, who is also sitting at the “kids’ table”. Norma works as a mental health aide at the medical clinic here. She is eating a rice noodle dish. Liza asks about it, and Norma says she bought it at the Trident Store. Norma mentions that the AC has changed their prices to make things most commonly used by her Filipino culture (like rice) more expensive. This seems unfair.

Carla talks with us. Apparently there are 2 parts of Culture Camp. Until students are in 5^th grade, they do a 2 hour program which is some science and some arts and crafts. I’m told the progression for girls, but sense that it’s more flexible for boys. In 5^th grade (or their first year of camp), though, girls make necklaces. In their second year, they make a Bering Sea Headdress. In their third year, the girls make a full headdress. In their fourth year, the girls work on their regalia.

After lunch, I wander over to the beading table. The instructor isn’t particularly welcoming, but I find an empty seat and ask permission to watch. After watching for almost an hour, I finally approach the instructor—Merle—and ask her if she would please teach me to make something. She sighs and says, “Well, what do you want to make?”

I reply with, “Whatever you will teach me to make.”

Merle sighs again and says, “Well, I guess I could teach you how to make an Aleutian Circle necklace. Pick out some beads.” Merle won’t teach people in the Anchorage area how to make the Aleutian Circle, because it is her design and she sells her work in the Talkeetna and Anchorage markets. She will be at the Dimond Center during Fur Rondy and I’m looking forward to getting a piece.

It takes me a while to get the hang of it… the Aleutian Circle is made in a 5B1 S4 pattern, which is my shorthand for remembering how to do it. Liza joins in after about 30 minutes. I spend the rest of the day working hard on my necklace, as does Liza.

Dinner is served at 5pm for the instructors (and us). It’s pineapple-glazed ham, mashed potatoes and gravy, corn on the cob, and butterfinger ice cream cake.

Traven, Ithaca, and Ingrid asked me and Liza if we had any suggestions for their first and second grade class. The class was at the very end of the day (from 4pm-5pm) and there were a few students who derailed the whole class. We suggested assigning roles and some other basic ideas.

After dinner we go back to our necklaces. It’s really meditative and requires my focus.

At 7pm, adults come in for adult classes. I just keep working.

At 9pm, everyone goes home. Mike takes us back. I pretty much collapse into bed. I’m ready to sleep. So far, I’d say that camp is more interesting than fun.

*I’m going to change the boys’ names, because I don’t feel comfortable sharing kids’ names on the internet.

Connectivity

I've been offline for 2 days, which feels like years! Being up here is strange, because there aren't redundant systems. For instance, you can't call in on the phone right now and there's not another solution. Last night, the cell tower for AT&T at Sand Point wasn't working and there was no back up tower. Neither the internet at the hotel or the center worked. It was an odd feeling.

Needless to say, I was able to get on in the hotel. I'll upload my journals from Monday and Tuesday. I'll try to post some pictures too; but, it will largely depend on how fast the internet is at that moment.

Sand Point- Day 1

“I’m sorry. I know this is a dumb question… but, are those crab traps that we keep passing?”

The driver, Pam, exchanges a look with her friend in the passenger seat of the beat up blue mini-van. “Yeah, those are crab pots.”

“I’m from Arizona,” I say by way of an explanation.

We wind our way up a green mountain, and I peer over at the ocean clearly visible from out the side window. This reminds me of Hawaii, I think. Or, maybe Ireland—not that I’ve seen it. Clearly my references for the color green are somewhat limited.

Our hotel is only about 10 minutes away from the airport. We quickly arrive in a dirt parking lot and follow Pam inside. We complete a small registration card and are handed keys (like real keys) to our room. We ask where we can eat dinner and are told that the only place open for dinner on Sunday is the Chinese restaurant by the AC. Hmmm.

Neither Liza or I know what to expect. This seems to be a theme.

Before we even reach the room, though, Carla, the Camp Director, intercepts us with much anticipated details. We are to meet Mike, who drives the red car, outside room 111 for breakfast that begins at 8am. We try to clarify what time we need to meet Mike, but finally conclude that we’re meeting at 8am… and breakfast will “start” without us. (We later learn that breakfast is served for an hour—issue resolved.)

We get to our room to find a basic motel room.

Liza and I decide to take a walk. Liza picked up a brochure in the motel office, which includes a map of Sand Point. We quickly realize that the scale makes every small spot look like a Wal-mart box store. Hmmm. We put the map away and continue our exploration.

We walk the main street and try to figure out what things are… some are easy—Alaska Fish and Game (clearly labeled), the cemetery (crosses are a give away), and the church (also self-evident)… everything else is pretty up-in-the-air. We take pictures of the lush scenery and see 3 bald eagles.

When we return to the hotel, there are two men who look to be frat guys (maybe canning employees??) leaning on their cars fresh from the “lounge”. We detour into the lounge, as I feel uncomfortable going into our rooms with the men standing there.

Carla is in the lounge playing cards (bridge??) with 2 other women. She introduces us to Mike (of the red car) and Wolfgang—both of whom are instructors at the Culture Camp.

Mike asks if we’ve had a tour yet and offers us a tour of the city. He drives us around and we see several places that we’d already seen and mislabeled (our “school” was really city hall, etc.) and some places we hadn’t seen (like the old quarry, the dump, and our camp location). Mike takes us by BINGO, but we discover it’s more involved (both technically and time-wise) than anyone is up for tonight. He drops us off at Aleutian China for dinner.

Liza and I enjoyed the best Chinese food I’ve had in Alaska. As we start to leave, we’re stopped by a woman who asks if we’re here for camp (I’m wearing a backpack—not too subtle). We say yes. Apparently she’s here from Fish and Game with 2 interns—Trayven and Inga. She welcomes us, and we head back to the hotel.

I tried to access the internet from our hotel room, but it’s down. Apparently the internet company tried to call the Anchor Inn Motel, but their phones aren’t receiving calls (it just rings and rings). So this will have to wait until tomorrow.

I wanted to post, so I went back to the lounge (40 feet from our room). The lounge has internet, but also many people who are considerably drunker than earlier. I go to the bar to order a Diet Coke. A woman stumbles up to me spilling her drink and slurring some sort of greeting. Hmmm.

I get the Diet Coke and take a seat to blog. I get quite a view from my corner table. I wonder if I’m here at 8:45pm on any other night if it would be the same. I sense that the level of intoxication is negatively correlated to the number of places open.

Carla is still here playing cards and the bartender seems to have a handle on things. I don’t feel unsafe, just uncomfortable.

The woman who spilled on me is now slurring slurs at another woman. It’s a small town—so everyone knows each other. The bartender makes the woman leave. They argue about this. But, the woman ends up leaving.

I’ve noticed that, like pain, you only acknowledge that which is most pronounced. The woman’s leaving does not greatly reduce the volume or drunkenness of the bar. The bar has a decidedly different tone than earlier today. The sober people seem to be corralling those who are drinking by redirecting them into card games or dice games. I don’t think the sober people are having much fun.

It’s chilly here. It’s so windy and the PVC coat I bought to protect from rain serves well against the wind.

The ravens are incredible. They’re huge and you instantly see how they’ve become culturally important.

Dogs run around here. They all seem to stay close to where they belong (I think!). Hayden would like to be here too.

The houses are colorful. Liza pointed out that they cut the gray of the sky.

The flights here weren’t bad at all. The pilots smoothly took off and landed despite heavy winds. It was impressive.

We’re meeting Mike at 8am for our ride to the Camp. I’m sure I’ll have much more later and, hopefully, I’ll be more organized in my thinking too.

Where I'm going...

I was looking up my flight. I stop in Cold Bay, Alaska on the way to Sand Point... which is as logical as stopping in Minneapolis on my way to Anchorage; but, alas, this is my route. Here's a map to show where I'm going. "A" is Anchorage. I've added Kodiak just as a reference point.

Sand Point Weather

Tomorrow (Sunday) morning I leave for Sand Point. After a few suggestions (from Joe and Rich, whose a Scared Scriptless cast member) that I get rain pants, John and I made a last minute Fred Meyer run. I am now the owner of an entire PVC rain suit... in addition to the rain poncho and rain jacket and rain boots... I think I'm set. And, good thing too... this is the forecast I just looked up. Yikes! I'm sure it will be fun anyway :)

More Arizona Dust Storms

When I was in Arizona in July, there was a horrible dust storm-- a haboob to be precise. It's pretty unreal to see a wall of dust like that coming toward you. My mom captured it on her phone (she put the phone on the dash and drove). While visually amazing, these storms bring health threats.

Apartment Progress?

In late May, our apartment was flooded, and so began the restoration process.

Initially, we had no idea the extent of the "restoration". About a month ago, we realized that we were going to have to leave the apartment in order for the repairs to be made. :(

It's not been fun to be out of the apartment. While we really appreciated having somewhere else to stay, it's been hard to be far from downtown (about 15-25 minutes away)... especially since we're sharing a car. We miss the Coastal Trail, our neighborhood, and just being close to all the downtown activities.

On the plus side.. Our contractor, Loren, is fantastic! Our landlords are great. And, it's been really fun to see all the changes. I wish I'd thought to start taking pictures earlier. Here is 1 that shows a bit of the damaged area and then a couple from today (they were taping on the new dry wall and adding the bead boards).

Nervous and Excited

This Sunday morning I leave for the Elder-led culture camp in Sand Point, Alaska. I'm very excited, but super nervous too. It's always hard for me when there's no "plan"--or when I don't know the plan. Aside from my flight and hotel, I don't have any idea what's going on. I don't think I'll have cell phone access. I may have some computer access. It's really hard for me to say "we'll see;" but, that, in itself, is a learning experience-- right?

The Boat Graveyard

John and I both tried to capture this remarkable collection of dilapidated boats and "stuff" on the Homer Spit.

Sunday in Homer

The end of our trip was very low key.

We ate breakfast at Two Sisters (cut to the chase-- right?), then went to a bar called Kharacters to watch a disappointing Women's World Cup Finals.

The wine tasting at Bear Creek Winery was highly recommended... and, after visiting, highly delicious. We tasted several wines from their list, choosing a few favorites-- the port, Apricot Pear, and Black Raspberry.

We then visited what I called "the boat graveyard" on the Spit to take some pictures. (I'll put these in a separate post, because there are so many.)

Our last stop was at the Mermaid Cafe to split a salad, stuffed dates, and soup for lunch. The soup was delicious, but the other items were a bit fussy and lacked balance. (My last comment clearly indicates I watch too much television.)

The Homer Spit

After a great (and filling) morning, we headed over to The Spit. We spent the rest of the day exploring.




























We saw at least 4 American Bald Eagles. (One was SO close; but, by the time I got near, it flew away. I still included my picture-- it's the one of a random patch of sky.) Later, on our way back off The Spit, we pulled over at an American Bald Eagle's nest. John got several photos of this.

































Walking on the beach, we saw a seal (who followed us and kept popping up) and an otter.














We browsed through several sets of boardwalks and discovered High Tide Arts. This is Leslie and Jens Klaar's gallery. Leslie does some really beautiful collages which interpret Alaskan scenery in unique ways. We bought a few pieces--similar to what's seen here.



We saw the bounty of many fishing charters. They hauled in lots of rockfish, some halibut, ling cod, and other big fish ;)















We also scoped out the Salty Dawg Saloon decorated primarily with dollar bills.















We stopped at Fat Olives for dinner. We decided to call it a night pretty early. We'd walked several miles during the day and needed some rest after Friday's late evening. Miraculously, our hotel improved while we were gone... I think it might have been since we couldn't hear the neighbors talking, we could enjoy the view in the night light, and we beat the band to bed.