The Last Huzzah

The drive up to Alaska this year was same-same-but-different, as we drove up through Alberta, going through Banff and Jasper National Parks. We’re definitely going to go back when we have more time, because SO AWESOME are the keywords for those parks. Also, SO CHILLY could be good keywords if you go there at the end of May:

This sign at a little gas station in the Yukon is really great, and confusing:

We drove more than 13 hours each day, and for a good seven hours of that Moma would stand in the backseat and rest her head on the seat, because she likes to see where we’re going. She was born to be a car-riding dog:

Since being here, Taylor and I have been busy little bees. We’ve helped set up the Bear Camp, train the new guides, and get our own place up to speed. We’re guiding a lot more this year since our guest numbers a re a bit low, and that’s been great. Every other week we take turns leading guests to Denali National Park- a long drive, but pretty durn fun. On one guide training trip we had our picture taken in front of a big ol’ glacier. And we realized that this was only the second time in our five years in Alaska where we are both in the same picture. We have more pictures of bears, dogs, and friends than we do of ourselves:

In Conclusion: I could blame my lack of writing on these pages to the busy pace of our lives right now, but that would only be half true; I am also getting bored with this blog. It’s become more of a chore than what it was when it started- a fun and funny diversion. My main reason for starting it up almost two years ago was to show you all what we do in Alaska, and I’ve done that, so I feel very repetitive doing it all over again (our lives don’t change that much up here). So this will be the last post. I like things that have a beginning, middle, and end; they feel much more complete, and this feels like the perfect time to stop.

I'll show you my greenhouse if you show me yours...

Taylor designed and built (with a little help from our friend Sam) a really big and really awesome greenhouse for his parents. It was completed in time for today's Mother's Day brunch and we all spent a lot of quality time sitting around, staring at it and saying things like, 'I'm so impressed!' and 'It's like a for reals greenhouse!' which quickly embarrassed Taylor and delighted the rest of us.
And now to show it off!
Arrrgghhhh, I be proud of me husband.
Happy Mother's Day to my one mom, three grandmas, six aunts, and one mother-in-law!

Pirates and Sharks!

Last weekend I drove to Portland to see my lovely friend Marie and her new fiancee, Matt. We all stayed with Maire's cousin and good friend of ours, Daniel, and had a swell old time- especially because Daniel's daughter Joanna is just about the best 3-year-old that has ever lived.
We were playing around with pirate and shark poncho towels, and Joanna's roar was the same for both; I guess to a little kid all animals, monsters and outlaws say ROAAAARRRR!
Marie and Matt also got into the nautical spirit:
And Daniel showed us how if he lost his arms in a fiery crash he could still function by doing everything with his toes, like lighting this match:

All in all it was a tee-rific weekend, and one I wouldn't mind doing again soon.

BOOM BAM SPRING

Every Spring, every single Spring, I get depressed because Winter is ending. It always takes me a long while to accept that my favorite season is now a whole year away again... and I feel like Spring is such a sneaky season. Here we are, la di da, enjoying the Winter, when BOOM BAM- Spring punches us in the face with it's greenness and baby pinkness and all the instant happiness. Boofers.
But this year I finally saw that all my crankiness won't make Winter last any longer, so I have stoically resolved to enjoy the Changing of the Seasons. And I now see that Spring can be (sortof) fun.
For instance, it means really fun Spring skiing with good friends in the sunny sun sun:
For Taylor Spring means a shorter haircut, a warm weather shave-off. It also means a temporary (but so very awesome) mustache created out of said shaved-off hair:
Spring means creating bike gangs and riding to trashy bars that for some reason have four different candy vending machines in one medium sized room. And out of all the different candy options, our friend Kelly chose trail mix! Trail mix?! Stale trail mix from a dirty old vending machine!? But at least Kelly thought it was a fine decision:
It means junk shopping, because when Spring starts, and it rains and everything smells clean and wet, all I want is to go thrift store shopping and smell some good old tired air for a while. A mix-em-up for the old snozzer.
That was all to say I found U.S. Mint-approved coin wrappers at a thrift store today, and I promptly came home and wrapped up all my Winter change. The Wrapping of the Change is now a Spring tradition to me:
So-
BOOM BAM SPRING!

Carbon Monoxide VS. The Volcano!

Mt. Redoubt is erupting again. But let me start at the beginning. The lodge we were caretaking this winter (where Taylor got sick) is 9 miles north of Redoubt, and one of the closest inhabited cabins to the mountain. A month or more ago we got a frantic call from our former boss saying that a 7.8 earthquake had hit under Redoubt, shattering the thick lake ice and causing all communications to be lost with the new caretakers of the lodge (he was calling because with the lake ice shattered there was no way into the lodge to evacuate the employees other than this great Alaskan who flies a Super Cub and can land on rough snow, and we had his phone number). That is the last we heard about it until this morning, where I read that Redoubt erupted four times last night, with all the ash blowing north.
I'm sure the lodge is fine, and the caretakers alive and well, but they have already been evacuated, or they are about to be, for most likely the remainder of the winter.
Which brings me to my point- Taylor getting poisoned was half a blessing. We were able to come back to Bend and get jobs, rather then being evacuated in the middle of winter with no prospect of a place to stay or solid income. And although it would've been so cool to hear the lake's ice crack (think of a million gunshots at once), it would've been pretty awful to have died out there.
After we evacuated from the lodge, we were sure our winter was going to be another failure, but in retrospect it has been really terrific. We've gotten to ski a lot, we rented the coolest house ever and got to finally unpack our wedding gifts (whoot!), and we've spent lots of time with our friends, something we've been really missing in our nomadic lifestyle.
So the next time you get carbon monoxide poisoning, just think, "Hey, this might be saving me from a volcanic eruption!"

Jaunty Jaunt.

Taylor's parents celebrated their 32nd wedding anniversary with a dinner at the best Thai restaurant in town. A delicious dinner was had by all, with much spying on our raucous dining neighbors. Taylor thought that this amount of leftover rice merited it's own box:
Later, when we got home, Taylor and I realized that the full moon was upon us, and not only that, but the brightest full moon of the year (source cited: NPR). We got our cross country skis and drove up into the mountains for a late night jaunt. It was much brighter out than these flashless pictures shows:

We went to a lesser known ski area, and it was deserted, but after we were done we drove across the highway to check out a popular, groomed cross country site- and there were at least 200 people there! Skiing! At 10 at night! It was silly how everyone thought they had this great original idea, but we were just one big like-minded herd.

On Days Of Weather.

The weather lately has been really nutters. I've had some unexpected days off with the mountain closing down almost every day because of 90 MPH wind gusts that have been snapping trees in half and pushing old ladies over.
So one day, with nothing else to do, I counted all my moolah. No matter that it's all in one dollar bills; I'm totally loaded:
Then we took Moma on a scrufflebout out to Tumalo Falls. We love watching the other cross country skiiers, because without fail they (or should I say we) are all nerds. Lots of spandex and wrap around shades. I like to sport jazzy gators, and Taylor prefers sporty fleece soccer pants. Moma dons her ridiculously long tail hair and crazy eyes:

The Mighty Bonnacon Attacks!

For Christmas, Taylor got me a really great, old, school-district-reject piano. It's beautiful and out of tune, and we love it. Porcelin Elephant loves it too, but Porcelin Pig thinks it's way too loud:
I'm reading a really great book called the 'Book of Beasts,' an English translation of a Latin bestiary from the 12th century. It's an encyclopedia of all the animals they knew about (and some they made up), and the physical and moral qualities of each one. Women, whores especially, seemed to occupy a lot of the author's thoughts- "Wolves are known for their rapacity, and for this reason we call prostitutes wolves, because they devastate the possessions of their lovers."
This is one of my favorite creatures, the Bonnacon. When it's being chased by hunters, it emits a fart three acres wide that sets trees afire and makes every living creature collapse:

Sharpen Your Saws

When going into the woods to cut a Christmas tree, you have to be ready to do some real heavy duty lifting, and if you are at all out of shape or not ready for the action, those trees will dominate you. They don't care. They'll do it with no remorse at all. I've seen it happen. Taylor and I knew what we were up against, so we boldly strode into the Dark Forest with our guns a-blazin' and we showed those dagnabbiter trees just who was boss: