It rained last night

In December. So, you know, now there's an 1/2 of an inch of ice on EVERYTHING. This trapping season is not off to a good start for me. I didn't even get out on the line until Thanksgiving Day. That's the 28th. Trapping season opened on November 1st. That's 28 days too late! Granted Montana Man was able to squeeze in his first visit to Alaska (Anchorage, not Unalakleet), I had a week long conference in Anchorage, and I visited Montana Man for a weekend so I can't complain a whole helluva lot because that's all really awesome stuff. But now that I'm home and can actually get out and trap nothing has been going in my favor.

My trapping partner and I tried to head out on Tuesday. We waited for the sun to come up and got all geared up and took off around 11:30 am. We didn't even get 1/8th of a mile out of town before Gregg was stuck in overflow past his knees. With rope, some strength and his stomping we hauled his rig out of the ice and slush and towed it back to the shop. It would start up only to sputter and die. So we called it quits for Tuesday. How disappointing.

MVP Gold

So I'm trying to earn my damn MVP Gold. And the weather is not freaking cooperating. Yesterday the flight was cancelled because of the wind out here in Unalakleet or the freezing rain in Anchorage. Today the flights are on weather hold because of more freaking freezing rain. What did I do to piss the universe off?

All I need is 6,480 miles. And then I get a free drink on every flight. And I'm rid of those pesky flight change fees. Gah! I'm beyond frustrated. Not to mention I was supposed to be hanging out with Montana man today. 3 hours ago. I'm not a very pleased panda at the moment.

Here's a pretty picture so this post isn't entirely me ranting

Starry water field

my feet were not the first to see
the stars floating through the night
I walked behind him in the ebb and flow
there was no up or down, no right way
my path rippled and pooled, leaving no trace
to follow or find again. it was gone

the water was up to my ankles. gone
was the light, the shore I could not see
thoughts begin. my dreams I trace
from childhood to this very night
there is no place to go, no sign to lead the way
uncertainties come in one continuous flow

stop, stop the battering on my soul. end the flow
of doubts, of tears, of fear. silence, gone
are the voice. still lost, I do not know the way
black reflected below me and above me all I see
is the darkest of skies. pure night
the stars are gone, nothing. not even a trace

his hands upon my cheeks. my tears, his trace
his palms, his hand through which comfort will flow
not so dark anymore this truest night
two moons rise as he looks upon me. tears gone
the salt has fallen and mingled with the sea
his touch, may it never be so far away

insecurities too close, the know they way
my eyes falter, my hands do not trace
what if there was light for him to see
would his words still continue to flow
would the look in his eyes be gone
though I fear the dark, is there worse than night

put my pain to rest, for the night
is fading and a path becomes clear. my way
though unknown, is before me but partly gone
I see where I've been, I know it's trace
my heart will beat and my blood will flow
and where I'll end up... we'll just have to see

in the midst of night, clouded was my way
he was there to trace, where my tears did flow
till again I could see with my confusion gone

Life lately...

This guy. :) This guy... He's coming up to Anchorage for two sleeps the weekend before my next conference. I wish he could stay longer (so does he) but unfortunately it's hard to be away from the goings on at the homestead for extended periods of time. At least without planning. This is a very impromptu trip. Needless to say I'm beyond thrilled to be able to show him a mini-bite of Alaska.

Yeah, okay I know I already put a picture of him up in this post. :) I couldn't resist this picture though. Happy, happy. My last visit to the homestead was incredible. So many potatoes! We hunted as well, but didn't have any luck. I guess he'll just have to come up here for Spring caribou.

I really wish this picture wasn't blurry. I was however sitting on the floor of my friend's bus as he was driving me to the airport to catch my flight home. Yes folks, I have a friend who has a bus. He's got some work to do on the interior as you can see. :) The theme for the bus is climbing. I can't wait to see it's progress as he does his thing.

I scheduled a dinner with my trapping partner as soon as I got home. We had moose steak and potatoes. He did the steaks and I did the potatoes. It was really good to catch up with him. Trapping season is just around the corner. I'm pretty sure it's gonna be hard to be in the office all winter when I'd rather be on the line!

Idle hands are the devil's playthings. Idle hands also give my brain too much time to ruminate and be lonely and longing for things. So I try to keep my hands as busy as possible. I started this hat as soon as I got home from my trip to Spokane and Missoula as my get back into my Unalakleet groove. It whipped up really fast and now that my mind is settled it can concentrate on more complex projects.

Childhood home

a lone grey building
stands, colossal,
worn with age.
wood, soft, rotting,
covered in rusted metal.
two balconies,
no rails, no support.
any minute
crashing down.

a door faces the ocean.
wood faded from crashing waves,
stained from sea mist,
salt lines trace pictures,
scent of seaweed all around.

a wooden path leads to a door.
sun bleached, wind battered.
hinges loose and in
desperate need of oil.
still, it opens.

splintered floor.
boxes of books, skulls,
glass buoys, rotting clothing.
an old Singer washer,
plugged into a generator
covered in dust and webs.
every corner full
with the little things
that life alone in the wilderness
require.
it echoes with emptiness.

nine rooms, two stories.
a slaughter pit,
a garage,
a two bedroom upstairs,
a one bedroom downstairs.
joined by one stair.
long and uncertain,
still somehow
managing to bear weight.

imperfect yet full,
the house still stands.
a physical tomb
of perfect memories,
that leave a child empty.

I couldn't find the title for this

Windows unblinking, forever staring into the street
Haunted eyes open to the masses
Each night tired eyes, lost eyes,
     hopeful eyes stare back
with neon sparkles shining, reflecting
Bricks faded, grout crumbled down
wrinkling the flesh that has faced down years
guarded by a tired soul, the door
opens a moist cavernous hole
slimy residue on every surface
overwhelming the scent of ageless dust
with the bitterness of brew
that keeps tongues moving and thirst sated.
Old face withering more and more
     each day I pass on by
Yet once, only once I glance over
and fall into the pool of beer that lies inside
I struggle rising to the surface
only to gasp and sink even deeper.

Life lately... in pictures

Finally, some successful grouse hunting. My man thinks it's sexy. :)

Canning the grouse above into soup or pot pie ready munchies. Just add seasoning and heat up!

A work colleague came into town and I showed him around. And then released him into the wild with my shotgun.

Some last minute berry picking before the winter comes and takes over.

No words.

My poor sad socks that have gone the way of the hole in the heel. Tragic.

Berries. More berries.

2013 was the year of the berries. Not just one or two kinds of berries but ALL kinds of berries. There were plentiful and huge salmon berries, blueberries, blackberries, cranberries, high bush cranberries, rosehips, etc. If it was a berry and it was growing in Unalakleet, it was flourishing.

Lookit the size of them!

One of my very favorite things to do is pick berries. Being outside, smelling that intoxicating tundra smell, is better for my heart than any amount of hours with a therapist. The profound not silence fills my ears until my thoughts are drowned out and quieted. It's incredibly cathartic for me.

Most everyone that I encounter is surprised that I pick berries alone. They're even more surprised when they realize that I enjoy it and actually prefer it. :) I'm comfortable in the country. I feel at home there.

Some of these little loves were made into delicious cranberry sauce

Dreams

I lay, struggling to move
held down by my nightmares
I saw my face, haunting
skin icy-blue-transparent
sunken hollow eyes
    screaming piteously
the stench of cold fear
unbearable weight smothering my heart
thrashing arms, twisting legs
let me up...
I lay next to myself
staring into dead eyes
help me... help me... help me
My ghastly reflection rises
glances over her shoulder
She walks away

Once upon a time...

I had a creative writing teacher named Steven Meyers. I loved those classes. Their structure, the creativity, how we shared what we wrote. It felt like such a community. I would go back to Durango and enroll in Fort Lewis again to be in one of those classes. By the end of the semester I would know pieces of the people in the class. I felt kinship with my classmates and yet I didn't stay in touch with any of them. It's strange. And yet wonderful.

Anyways... my point is that I'm going to post some of the writing. The journal that I recently found is from one of the poetry classes that I took so that's what will be making appearances.

Kuspuks

August 6th. AUGUST 6TH! When did this happen? Where did summer go? It's one step away from fall. I'm loving the berry picking and fishing. The silvers are coming in slow. I've gotten 2 so far and my trapping partner go 7. Seven! Just plain rude out fishing me.

I'm heading off to Montana in two sleeps. I've been waiting for this since June! I can't believe it's finally here. And yet I still haven't gotten everything done that I wanted to before I take off. Hopefully I can cram a few more things in before I climb on the plane Thursday.

I pulled fabric and wanted to do some sewing. This is going to have to wait until I get back though. These are two kuspuks I made over a year ago. One for a little girl and the other for a baby.

Playing in the ocean (usually after midnight)

I love trips out into the ocean. Even the scary, intimidating ones when the waves are big. I'm happy we were in a salmon boat this time instead of Frank and Heathers river boat because the waves were big! The ocean is such a powerful thing and I always feel so small when I'm out in it's vastness. Spence has no issues conking right out though. :) Little stud just passes out and rides the waves like a champ.

Captain passed out pants

In the bow, bouncing way up and down

When I was little and we lived out at Egavik, there were some times when we had to get to Unalakleet even though it was really rough out. I remember being scared until my dad told me to think of the waves as bucking broncos. I always wanted to be a cowgirl, so obvious this worked. It took away my fear.

There are some classy seats in an ocean boat

El capitan

Heading back home

We're totally serious about our ocean boating

This was a different night. Calmer waters.

Supposed to be a channel marker. It's more like an island marker.

I never get out into the ocean as much as I'd like. Mostly due to the fact that our ocean boat doesn't have a motor and I don't think I'd feel comfortable driving out in the ocean. Half the time I don't feel comfortable driving in the river! I'm always afraid I'll kaqisaaq (hit bottom) and I do often enough. And it's embarrassing. But I don't let it stop me!

Doileys

There are some days when I get an overwhelming sense of panic. How on earth will I ever do all of the projects that I want to do? How on earth will I ever complete all of the projects that I  have started. I'll do really good for a chunk of time and work on my big projects and actually accomplish some of the and then I'll get inspired and start a slew of other projects. Which puts me right back where I started. It's a never ending battle. Kind of like laundry.

52 Lists: List the things you want to make

I've been sitting on this list so long that I've made 4 fur bears: beaver, mink, rabbit and nutria, finished my first beaver hat and cut out another one, and made a quilt for my bestie's wedding present. Now that's some blogging procrastination right there.

Egg hunting

I went egg hunting this year with a friend and his mom and found zilch. :) But it was good exercise and a new experience. My friend's mom was the only successful one. She found two eggs. I think it was a little early for egg hunting. At least I know how to egg hunt now. I mean, it's really not that hard. You walk around on the tundra and look for eggs. You want tundra with little lakes and pools and such. Pretty basic.

How cute is this little guy. He wasn't very scared of me but just kept scooting around in the water as I looked in the tundra around him. I don't know what kind of bird he was other than small.

An empty nest, this was all I found.

Ducks! Too bad bird season was over. They were much more skittish than the little bird, probably because they get shot at all the time.

It was really bright out. I could barely open my eyes.

Seagull eggs!

Beaver hunting

This spring  I was a very lucky girl and was invited out beaver hunting with Frank, Heather, and Christian. Our adventure took us way up Chirosky.We left town at around 8 or 8:30 and sped off. It was my first time on the river this year. And it was perfect. There still weren't many mosquitoes out and the it stayed light all night.

Unalakleet receding into the horizon as we head up river

Looking for beaver in a little slough

Frank is a really good driver, much more adventurous than me. I tend to go a lot slower and am still pretty scared of tight curves. I was comfortable with him at the steering wheel.

A beaver house in the Chirosky River

There's a swan in the middle of this picture

It was an absolutely gorgeous night

We ended up getting 6 beaver altogether. I shot two of the six and one little muskrat. It was such a fun night. I can't wait till next spring. And I can't wait till this guy is all stretched and tanned and sewed up.

The other beaver I got had quite a hole in his head so I declined taking a picture of him

Iris pin

This was a commissioned piece for a lady that lives here in my town. She gave this to her daughter for a birthday. It's done with delica beads using the peyote stitch. It's hardened with nail polish.

Spring time stuff

Spring time in coastal Alaska means fresh seal oil and fresh oogruk (bearded seal). This girl was lucky enough to be given the opportunity to help make both. I also ended up with three seal skins to stretch and turn into sewing material. This is my friend Chara and her family. She gave me the spotted seal skin that they're taking the blubber off of in this picture. Since I was being given the hide, I helped. Chara's Uncle stopped by and asked who the blonde was trying to cut seal (yes I dyed my hair blonde), this caused some laughter until he realized it was me.

My cousin Velma spoiled me with her eskimo salad. I ate the whole jar in one day. Not ashamed of that at all.

Fat Ab gave me some beluga tail.

And an oogruk rib cage and back bone. I cleaned off all of the meat and and hung t up to dry. Now I have enough black meat to share! (Normally I have just enough to hoard.)

I took last years silver salmon out of the freezer and smoked a bunch of it. Just trim off a little of the freezer burn and twelve hours later you have your self a delicious tasty treat. Some of it will be made into a smoked salmon cheesecake for my friend Jay.

Here's a picture of my oogruk drying into black meat. I love this stuff. When I was younger I used to write on the bag that it was mine and for no one else to eat it. Yeah, I was that kid.