Knitting and Knotting Memories

The same day Abigail and I strolled along the river walk 

and saw the tribal chief memorial sculpture, 

we crossed under the Interior Alaska Antler Arch.

Many of the sets of antlers are larger than this little girl.

She was quite in awe.

I'll print out some of what the information sign read:

"This arch of antlers might also be called an arch of stories.  Each antler was given to the arch in the spirit of linking experiences from all around Alaska.  Knitted and knotted together here are memories of campfires, packboards, meat cutting tables, and warm kitchens shared with family and friends...and  of relics of wild animals whose language and life stories we know only fragments.  The gift of the arch is to let us imagine the personal stories and respect the intertwined lives represented here."

Made up of more than 100 moose and caribou antlers collected from all over Interior Alaska,

this arch is an interesting landmark.

For us, it was part of an fun and sunny day for wandering and exploring.

I brought Abigail and she brought her little "Anna".

And we all learned together.

Hail to the Chief (s)

There is a rather fascinating monument in downtown Fairbanks.

Alaska continues to hold numerous native tribes scattered throughout

its immense size and space.  

This particular memorial honors the tribal chiefs who have ruled these tribes 

of the Alaskan Interior in the past.

Using a kind of metal, the sculptor designed the figures

by placing the material in the shadows and dark places.

A bit like a reverse negative.

Lightened areas are empty.

From close up, the figures look odd,

broken and unfinished.

See the side of his face and head--nothingness.

But, by stepping away, the blankness fills in 

or perhaps our amazing brains realize what the image is meant to be

and fills in the spaces for us.

And, in doing so, each chief gains completeness.

Yet, there is a lack of substance.

As if this depicts the spirit of each beloved chief that no longer 

lives with his tribesmen.

I found this appropriate, unique and attractive.

 I thought you might, too.

Alaskan Gothic

This is a bit of a twist on the post of the moose in the yard last week.

(post dated August 1)

I called them "unwelcome neighbors".

Josh and Kathleen took the whole incident up a notch--

or two...or three.

Kathleen was especially agitated and anxious.

And rightfully so.

You see, she was the one who planted tiny seeds in pots last March...

then watered and watched...

transplanted in June...

weeded...

 fertilized...

thinned...

and is on the verge of harvesting all this bounty of vegetables.

She knows the moose could harvest them all in one hungry meal.

So, she prepared to sit out after the twins' visit--

waiting for them to just try and take the garden late at night.

Josh, in his role as protector of both his wife and property, joined her.

Each had a weapon, and I don't mean a water pistol.

The serious tone of them sitting on the deck reminded me

of the "American Gothic" couple by Grant Wood,

minus the pitchfork, however.

But, as I nervously eyed the real guns with real bullets in their laps

as they sat their vigil,

I decided they were more like the Hatfields or McCoys,

daring those moose to take one step on this property!

Do you want to know the ending?

They finally went to bed hours later, though Kathleen was too

nervous and restless to sleep.

At 5:20 AM she heard rustling just below their window and-

sure enough-it was the massive moose twins, munching on the snap peas.

Waking Josh, he removed the screen and shot the ground next to them

a couple of times.  (Moose season doesn't begin until Sept 1---)

The twins have not been seen since.

But the vegetables are still flourishing and the guns handy.

Just in case.

And moose season gets closer every day...

Come and Set a Spell

I am aware that this is not grammatically correct,

but rather a down-home expression:

"Come on in and set a spell!"

While happily 

(OH. SO. HAPPILY.)

wandering through the botanical gardens, 

I noticed several strategically placed  benches and seats.

Tucked into arbors or near waterfalls and goldfish ponds,

these seats whisper, "Pause and relax."

These charming chairs were designed to look like butterflies

fluttering among daisies and the bluest of blue delphinium.

The "dinner plate dahlias"

(named appropriately for their size)

were just starting bloom in this peaceful spot.

 In back of the memorial chair

(the one like I'd like for my own someday)

sits a handcrafted bird feeder.
Its stationary bird perches as if ready to sing.

I tried out some of these appealing spots but life just has a way

of robbing us of languid time when we may do just this

and not mind the passing minutes.

Schedules rudely interrupt the quiet moments we have to sit

and simply breathe deeply surrounded by, not technology nor noise,

calm and beauty.  God's creative handiwork.

I can choose to return here in the next few weeks

when the long hours of sunlight add remarkable size and colors

to these spots.

And I plan to do just that!

Would you come with me and set a spell?

Blue Skies Smiling at Me

I was driving home rather late the last night.

It was 10:30 PM

I paused to recognize how pretty the sky was at that hour.

Still very blue and light.

I pulled off the road and grabbed the camera.

 For the sun to change from being out almost 24 hours/day in June

to almost not at all in December, 

the daytime changes have to be rather remarkable.

 The shadows are definitely longer at that late hour,

but the sun still sits fairly high as it travels across the evening sky.

 There is actually dark at some point,

but I am sleeping then.

I've yet to see the moon.

I've yet to turn on my headlights.

Or a household lamp.

When I awaken at 5 AM the sky is as bright blue 

as it was when I went to sleep.

 I read in the local paper that we lost 7 minutes of daylight yesterday.

In one day!

The length of day was listed as 18 hours, 2 minutes, 2 seconds.

Of course twilight brightens the sky for several hours besides,

both before sunrise and after sunset.. 

I am reminded of a Bible verse where a prophet of old describes the end of the 

world as we know it.  A time when Christ will reign and 

 evil and darkness will be no longer.  

"But it shall be one day which shall be known to the LORD, not day, nor night:

but it shall come to pass, that at evening time it shall be light."

Zechariah 14:7

These long, wonderful summer Alaskan days seem a taste of that future time.

No Headstone for Me

I've known for many years that I don't want to be buried.

(Oh, I know I'll die someday--I don't mean that!)

It's just that when the time comes,

I'll have no fear.  My future is secure.

I have a special, loved place I'd like my ashes tossed,

but no desire for a headstone with my name and dates.

Granite or marble--not for me.

I'd prefer a bench somewhere in a peaceful, natural setting.

My soul will be at peace and any memorializing

would be simple and biodegradable.

Well, last night I found just the thing!

This handmade, lovely bench was sitting in the

Georgeson Botanical Garden here in Fairbanks.

Nestled among green, growing things and flowers,

the little plate names the one remembered.

The neatest thing is this desktop area.

Not just for sitting (which I've never done well),

one can read, set a glass of iced tea, write or sketch.

All of these things I especially enjoy and I'd like

knowing others are, too!

It's perfect and I would be thrilled to have one placed 

in such a perfect place as this.

So, if any of my family is reading this blog,

please take note.

When my time comes to leave this earth,

I'd smile from heaven to have my name on something 

like this wonderful, inviting seat in a garden.

Unwelcome Neighbors

This afternoon, while outside on the deck, 

Abigail and I greeted a couple of unexpected neighbors.

They came trotting up to the house as if 

responding to an invitation.

My goodness, but they are LARGE!!

(Bigger than any horse I ever saw!)

I thought they were a Mr and Mrs but learned they are brothers.

Twins born 2 years ago, in fact.

Our visit could have been most pleasant

until they grew distracted by the lush vegetables in the garden.

This fellow reached over the tall fence to nibble celery leaves.

The other brother stepped into the raised rhubarb and flower bed.

Those long legs didn't have any problem.

I changed my mind about asking them for tea.

On the contrary.  I grew quite unpleasant and told them

to promptly leave.  There is a huge area of weeds

and willows and they were welcome to all of them.

But not to the gardens, thank you very much.

Abigail and I were a bit disappointed to see them leave.

If only they had used better manners, 

what a nice time we could have had.

An addendum is needed here.
Some of us look at the glass half empty
and others, well, you know.
You ought to read my daughter's blog to see her 
opinion of these strong and natural-to-the-area "neighbors"

Pigtails and Picnics

The hospital I work at hosts a terrific picnic every summer.

It's held at a place called "Pioneer Park" in town.

There are numerous original little houses and cabins that 

have been moved here and are now

converted to gift shops and ice cream parlors.

There are playgrounds, a grounded steamship,

 concert hall, gazebo and museums.

A few low-keyed amusement park rides, as well.

This picnic includes a food tent mounded with burgers,

chicken, hot dogs, salads...the yummy, typical stuff.

I've gone each year but this year was the most fun.

Why?

Because I got to experience it through the wondering eyes

of a blonde little pixie I happen to love.

 Young enthusiasm makes everything fun!

Her sparkle and amazement are contagious.  

I found myself overjoyed at each little detail!

The bandstand had performers singing and playing all day long.

These little dancing feet started tapping in rhythm.

(A 4th generation tapper/clogger, I wonder?)

Soon Grandma joined her in a rousing

spin on the grassy dance floor.

My favorite performers in all of Fairbanks is a steel drum band.

Called "Cold Steel", they bounce and play and bop to jazzy calypso beats.

 I always long to be a part of them.

It made me so happy to hear Cold Steel when we arrived at the park.

Afterwards, lucky Abigail got a brief lesson.

The sun was hot and her first taste of an ice cream sandwich

was both delicious and cooling.

Who can resist the pull of calliope music from the carousel?

At first timid on the moving horse, 

her brave spirit soon returned and she rode one-handed.

The moving gears above her head especially fascinated her.

But the highlight of the whole day was the train!

The track circles the park on a mostly elevated track.

No matter what we were doing, whenever she heard the airy

whistle blow (over and over-dozens of times),

she'd cock her head and point in its direction.

"Choo choo!"

So we finally stood on line for our turn.

She was in awe of the clacking of the track and the view from above.

So much to see!  Such excitement!

She waved and waved to everyone she saw.

And on a sunny Saturday in a park, 

people gladly wave back!

Though her mother thought it unwise,

before the day was over 

Grandma handed her a bag of blue cotton candy.

Her delight was obvious as the spun sugar melted on her tongue!

What WAS this stuff???

 

But all things come to an end

and big balloons escape to the skies.

Little pigtailed girls grow weary from so many 

new, fun adventures.

When she could no longer hold her tired head up,

we packed up and headed home.

I'll bet her dreams were filled with train rides

and cotton candy.

I know mine were!

Let's Talk about the Birds and the Bees

Kathleen and Josh have an amazing greenhouse this summer.

No matter the weather outdoors

(and much of it has been cold and rainy),

the atmosphere inside the greenhouse is warm, humid

and so earthy smelling.  Ahhhhhh!

I just want to get a chair and camp out in there!

One thing NOT in said greenhouse is a bumble bee.

Those useful creatures that buzz from flower to flower,

collecting pollen and, in turn, pollinating the plants.

I had never thought of it before, though I have been a gardener for...

 well, let's say many, many years!

But my gardens had always been outdoors 

with the wind, rain, birds and bees.

Inside, though, things were progressing differently.

We watched the plants grow tall

and green

and full of blossoms.

But, no little tomatoes were growing.

We were stumped!

We started asking successful Alaskan greenhouse gardeners and learned

that tomatoes are self pollinators.  But, to initiate this amazing skill,

the plants need to be shaken up, or blown, or rattled.

Josh put a fan inside and Kathleen and I began to give a vigorous shake

to each stem as we walked up and down the row.

And, what do your know?

It worked!!!

The cucumbers were another thing, however.

They are NOT self pollinators but need a dating service

to get results.

You see, it turns out there are "boy" flowers:

and cute little "girl" flowers with a tiny cucumber attached.

Sadly, that wee cuke will just die off with the flower unless

she is introduced to a nice looking boy blossom.

That's where I put come in!

I put on a yellow suit, strap on a pair or wings and begin buzzing around,

q-tip in hand.

"Buzzzzz-have I found a nice girl for you!"

"Buzzzzzzz-this boy is the neatest shade of yellow, my dear!"
"You'll be a perfect match! Buzz-buzz."

And, ta-da!

The pair got along famously, wouldn't you agree?

What was that?  This isn't exactly what you'd been expecting

to read on today's blog?

What on earth could you have been thinking?

One Lump or Two?

Some things in our lives are just delicious.

Simple.  

Precious.           Memorable.

Not earth shattering or breathtaking.

Just deep-inside wonderful.

Such is a tea party with a wee girl.

Abigail got her first tea set the other day. 

An odd assortment of dishes and play food.

She was thrilled with all the parts and pieces.

Once I demonstrated what a tea party was all about,

she took to it like any little princess would!

She serves all of us with grace and style.

She even slurps from her cup loudly.

And baby Anna never complains that the tea is too hot or cold.

Would you like to  join us...

Sugar?  One lump or two?