Bread, flowers, and manfriend

I find myself over half way through 2014 and not a blog post to show for any of the wonderful things (both little and huge) that have happened in my life this year. I feel so incredibly fortunate to be living the life that I am. I'm happy and grateful for things in my life everyday.

This guy would be someone that I am grateful for everyday. And someone that makes me happy everyday.

I don't get to see him as often as I want, but that goes hand in hand with I don't get to be in the village as much as I want either. I missed out on a lot of trapping here this past winter. This Spring I missed out on a lot of gardening on the homestead in Montana. However, looking at the happy side of life, it's filled with people that love and care about me and that want to spend time with me.
Side note: what is my frizzy hair doing up there? Ugh.

It's really difficult having your feet and your heart in two places that are so far away from each other. There are a lot of similarities, which means I feel very comfortable in both places. However sometimes those similarities are just different enough that it feels like an alternate universe. There are huge differences as well, the first that comes to mind: temperatures. I MELT in Montana summers. At least when I'm in the direct sunlight. Definitely something that is going to take me years to adjust to. You can adjust to high temperatures, right?

One of the differences about Montana. Different flowers. :)

Manfriend takes me on walks to see the pretty flowers and take pictures. Talk about a winner. <3

This Spring I decided to dig up some Alaskan irises and sent them to Montana for the garden. Someday I plan on living there and I want a piece of my village there. Montana irises are the same kind of iris but they're paler. One of those glaring differences. Not a bad thing but just noticeable to this village girl. We think that a half dozen of them will survive. Manfriend planted them next to his great great great great (who knows how many) irises that he brought up from Colorado that she brought from some place in the midwest. They're beautiful and glorious and I feel privileged that my little Alaskan irises get to live next to his grandma's irises

Something I'll have to visit Alaska for, for the the rest of my life is pictured below.

Salmonberries. That's right I picked them in the rain because I love them that much.

I had two work trips in July that almost prevented the capture of these little fiends. I was home for less than a week right when the berries were just starting to ripen. They're one of the only berries that will continue to ripen after you pick them. So I picked two gallons when they were hard and shucked 'em with my momma. I left for a week and a half. When I came back they were ripe, some were even too ripe by the time I got back. But I picked and picked and picked the already picked berries anyways. I walked. I fell over. I picked in the rain. I picked in the bugs. And I got two more gallons. :) Not too shabby. My family makes salmon berry syrup with them. It's my favorite syrup on the planet. Incidentally enough it's manfriend's favorite syrup too. He has some pretty good taste, that guy. (Obviously.)

I recently saw that there are a few fireweed plants on the drive up to the homestead from Philipsburg.

Mom and I went on a mini-adventure with Mister Blue and picked fireweed blossoms for jelly and such. The plants took a severe beating this year. There was a pretty big storm during the summer and the wind just thrashed the plants, especially along the coast.

Bread for the homestead and my tummy, of course.

One of the things I've started learning is to make bread. It's kinda trickier at altitude. Jay has a really good recipe. This batch had sour cream and fresh chives from the garden in it. I'm not gonna lie, it was pretty darn amazing. My bread is still a little crumbly. :( But I love making it so I'm hoping that I improve as time goes on. :)

The Minneapolis airport is very kind to stranded travelers.

Just a little snapshot of life on the road. My last flight out of DC was delayed and I ended up overnighting in the Minneapolis airport. They have an iPad at every single restaurant table in their bars and food places. It's sooo bizarre. I mean what if you want to actually visit with people you're traveling with. And how the hell am I supposed to know what to tip the person delivering my drink. Ridiculous.

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.