Repeat Dreams Of The Same Person

There is one particular man who has shown up in my dreams sporadically but regularly for the last six to seven months. I know so little about him that calling him anything more than an acquaintance wouldn't seem appropriate. He worked at the Boys and Girls Club where I volunteered- and that's how I came across him. We briefly and barely talked. He had no interest in me, to say the least. Still doesn't. And yet, for some unknown to me reason, my subconscious has deemed him as an appropriate person to think about during slumber. I've had so many dreams of him, that I've come to expect them now. Quite frankly, I had no interest in him prior to having him show up so often in my dreams. The dreams are slowly getting more and more intimate. At first it was just talking, then it progressed to hugging, and although all other intimate acts were skipped over- the last two dreams have been of us raising children together. I believe everything happens for a reason- even dreams. Typically I can figure out what my dreams are telling me- but his repeat image has left a blank in my dream journal.

Writing For Healing

Two months go I swore to myself that I would write every day for the rest of this year. Two months later, that obviously has not happened. I truly need to make a more sincere effort to just sit down and write a bit each day. It's so fulfilling. Three weeks ago, the three children I fostered last winter came back into my home- quite unexpectedly. Within the first two days of them being here, both Shiva and Mangey passed away. I spent most of these last three weeks emotionally and physically drained. It's been terribly exhausting and I've just wanted to run away and hide. Alas- as a parent, unfortunately you can't do that. And I've sucked up my tears, skipped over the grieving process for my little fur babies, and strengthened up for the three littles that need me to be strong for them right now. Good energies have taken care of me, and I'm slowly beginning to feel more and more in tune with the world again. And writing has always been my therapy- so I'm here to try and be the best I can be, again.

Late Night Talkers

You know what I really enjoy about late nights? People tell stories late at night. People don't do that during the day. You never hear people delve into philosophical spews at 10:00 AM. But at midnight, every single person becomes a deep thinker. It's pretty remarkable. I think I'm just going to start talking to people late at night. They're way more entertaining in the dark, than they are at midday.

Minnie Mag Speaks

Minnie Mag is my conversationalist cat. It took her a while to like me. I'm not sure what her past owners were like, but she wasn't fond of women when she first came into my home. I tried very hard to change her opinion, and eventually she decided I was a dandy person to be around. Since then, she's spent her days keeping me vocally entertained. I'll often mutter to myself throughout the day. I talk aloud even if no other humans are nearby. Minnie doesn't mind though, she enjoys conversations actually. And no matter what room in the house she is in, she will meow happily back to me when I talk. And if I ever happen to mention her name amidst a conversation she happily comes out to greet me as if to say "I heard you say my name, and thought I would bless you with my presence. Seeing as though I am only so wonderful you must probably be speaking very good about me, anyhow." And she truly is wonderful. How nice it is to have a verbal reply when you speak- even if a human isn't the thing replying to you.

Never Wish On The Weather

I jinxed it. The weather, I mean. I've jinxed the weather. Everyone says "Don't make wishes on the weather." And they do so for a good reason. If you wish for the weather to be a certain way- it will be that way, and it will stay that way until you are so sick of it you want it to change again. Today I was outside and the mosquitos were bugging me and all I wanted was a bit of wind to blow them away from my face. So I said "I wish there was wind." And in came the wind. And just as with all winds- it brought clouds. And just as with all clouds- they brought rain. So I wished for the wind and it came. But as did the clouds and rain, which forced me from my time outside, back indoors. Never wish on the weather...

Salmonberry Lesson

Berry picking, berry picking, berry picking- it's all I've rambled about lately. But I have one more tidbit to add. Something I don't think I've written about before. It's the lesson that salmonberries teach me. Salmonberries are small orangish, pinkish, reddish berries that dot the tundra. Each one is a different color and a different shape. There is no such thing as a 'perfect salmonberry'. The best ones are often the ugliest. They have juicy over-ripened look and a faded color to them. The plump redder ones that are perfectly proportioned are often very tasteless. So it leads you to learn that often the most imperfect of berries taste the best, and you begin to look over the prettier ones because you know it's what's on the inside that counts. I always eat the ugly berries. They're the most delicious. The prettier ones are left alone- as they don't taste nearly as good. Just as with the simple lesson taught to humans on the idea of 'beauty', what's on the outside truly doesn't matter. It's the taste (or the personality) that makes all the difference.

Berry Drought

We had a very dry winter and a very dry summer, which is leading to a very dry fall. After a full day of picking berries yesterday, I'm beginning to realize that there are not nearly as many as there usually are. Our berries require moist wet swampy tundra to grow. This year, our tundra is dry- barely surviving. And the berry plants are growing, but not producing the buds needed to produce fruit. So we walk over many patches that we've picked from each year, and barely accumulate one or two berries. It's a shame, but it's mother nature. She obviously knows the world goes in cycles. She won't kill our berries- but she certainly made them struggle this year. I'm hoping she decides a rainy season is in order for next summer- as the berries could sure use some extra help getting back on track.

Full Stomach of Berries

It's already time to begin picking salmonberries! The summer seems to have lasted so long, and yet it's going by so so fast. So out we trekked into the tundra to fill our baskets and make our jam. This year my stomach has been getting more berries than my basket. I've yearned for the sweet juicy taste of salmonberries all winter and I'm finding it hard to contain myself in their presence. I try to pick one, eat one- but I often end up eating five and picking one. I walk away with a full stomach and an almost-empty basket. Thank goodness not all of them have ripened yet- so I still have time to pick. If not I'd be merry for a day, but doomed for my winter's supply.

Accumulating Furs

I went out and picked out some furs today from our local seller, to reserve for my winter endeavors. My plan? Well I hope to begin commercial sewing fur hats, mittens, and baby booties to sell. I secretly wish to make enough to buy a home with a yard large enough to open my own dog kennel. High hopes, but a girl's gotta dream. Anyhow, I bought furs. But what furs, you ask. Four small black beaver. A large natural brown beaver. Two black rabbit furs. Four gray rabbit furs. One purple-ish gray rabbit fur. One white-ish gray rabbit fur. Five white rabbit furs. Three tan and white rabbit furs. One calico rabbit fur. One tan and black rabbit fur. I also grabbed two dyed and sheered beaver furs- one is pink and the other is blue. Something silly and fun. And now, I await my sewing machine's arrival- so I can create! Mwah, ha, ha, ha, haaa. Is the excitement of this new endeavor getting to me? I think it is...

Sewing Machine

I purchased a sewing machine! Our slow mail will make me wait for it though, as it is being shipped from the lower 48 and will take a good three to four weeks to arrive. I'm dearly excited though! I've hand sewn quite a bit, but have yet to deeply delve into machine sewing. A part of me is filled with nerves- because I'm not quite sure how to thread the darn things, but I'm hoping I'll quickly learn and be able to lock myself inside for a few hours and create many a' fashionable creations!

Too Rough To Fish

It was too rough to fish today. We had an opening and there were certainly many salmon in the river. But the west winds were strong and the waves were high and our boat was just simply too small to fish. So we had to turn around and go home. It was kind of devastating walking away from a day when we could have earned money. Our inability to continue on was a sad one indeed. But, I suppose our lives are never worth a few extra coins. So for the time being I'll simply sit inside and await the next opening.

So Many Pets

Muddy paw prints are always tracing my carpeted floors. Half eaten pork bones are buried all over my yard- a feat my dogs are so dearly proud of. My couch is frayed from feline claws. And beneath the couch lies an array of materials hoarded by collecting ferrets- things like toilet paper rolls, skeins of yarn, fur sewing scraps, and occasionally a pig ear or two. Most of my home is dedicated to furry creatures. At night time by bed is filled with cats. In the morning my house awakens with the happy frolicking and digging of the ferrets. And my yard is a play area for eager and hyper and very muddy dogs. People often shutter at the site of it. "How can you live with so many animals?" they ask. And all I can think is, "How can I not?". Not everyone will understand, but the few who do will simply know. How can one not, live without so many furry children? 

Fate's Mean Sometimes

You know what's odd about me? Odder than most people? When I like someone... intimately- I do so in a way with so much belief that it's fate. I don't simply 'like' someone, but I actually believe that fate has put them in my life for a reason. And eventually I'll often come to terms with the fact that perhaps fate's only real reason for putting them in my life was for me to admire them from afar. That happens often. My lust interests rarely lust me back. They certainly humble me down, though. Could fate possibly put people in my heart, just to have my heart hurt over them? That seems awfully cruel. But at the same time it seems awfully common...

Cloudy Sleepiness

I have been so utterly exhausted lately. I know I often complain about the weather. The sun is too bright. The clouds too dim. The rain too dreary. The winds too strong. The snow too never-ending. But, I'm not necessarily complaining this time. I actually don't mind the clouds. But I do admit they are making me tired. The comfort of my bed is so hard to leave when the sun isn't forcing me to wake up.

Miracles For Strangers

I'm not quite sure why I had such a good gut feeling yesterday, but nothing swell has happened today. I do hope that at least something nice happened to someone out there. Perhaps I had a good gut feeling on a stranger's behalf. I had the knowledge that someone out there would experience something lovely today! That person may not have been me... but hopefully a miracle happened on the behalf of my good feeling nonetheless. Wherever in the world the miracle occurred, I hope it was absolutely lovely.

Good Gut Feeling

I feel like something magnificent will happen tomorrow! I've had this gut feeling building for quite some time that something lovely will happen- and I think tomorrow is the day. I have no idea what good thing will happen. But something good will certainly occur. I just know it.

Palm Reading

So I've read many palms in my life, but never really looked at my own. I always kept saying, "I'll have someone else do it." But tonight I had nothing better to do and spent an hour analyzing. Needless to say, I should have waited for a different opinion. My life line indicates not only depression and mental turbulence, but a possibility of suicide. My success line shows a lot of good fortune for ...those around me, but no personal gain for myself. My money line literally does not exist, so not only will I never become wealthy, I am pretty much doomed to eternally be in poverty while those around me climb to riches. My love line is small and barely existent which means I will find virtually no happiness in terms of romance. Not only that but it's broken into a million pieces, depicting confusion and angst amidst a lot of heartache. I seriously cannot find one positive line on my hand. I feel like I'm reading Edgar Allen Poe's hand. Maybe my palm is his reincarnated hand. Nevertheless, if it's right- I'm doomed.

Hold Onto The Dream

Do you ever awake from a dream so wonderful, that you close your eyes and try to hold onto it for a bit longer? The vision was so perfect, the hypothetical scenario so surreal, that you don't want to leave? You just want to stay in your subconscious eternally and continue to play out this odd but beautiful storyline that your mind bestowed upon you?

Free, Truly Free

I wonder what it would be like to be free from money. I hate the concept of money. I hate how it rules us. I wish we could go back to trading goods and services. Where everyone has to provide something to the world in order to get things in return.

I wonder what it would be like to be free of prejudices. I hate a world so caught up the hate of others that the love of others is often overshadowed.

I never find myself wondering what it would be like to be truly 'free' though. I think that kind of freedom can only come in death. A freedom from all burdens and emotions. It must be magnificent, but right now- my mind is focused on being alive and I really can't even begin to grasp the concept of the freedom that comes with dying.

IN Love

Someone recently asked me: Can 'falling in love' exist? Love exists- we all know that. We love friends and we love family and we love people around us. But falling IN love is an entirely different experience. And I think there are many stages of being in love. A child can be in love with their best friend. A teenage couple can be in love. A twenty-something year old couple can be in love. An eight-year-old married-for-sixty-years couple can be in love. But these are all different stages of love. Different elements and experiences effect these different ways of being in love. There are a million and one ways to fall in and out of love. And I think being in love exists differently for different people. For some people it doesn't exist at all. It's entirely a matter of personal belief and development that determines whether being 'in love' exists for each individual person.

Thunderstorms Coming

The warm weather brought thunderstorms from the east. They typically stay in the hills away from our village- but this time they ventured into the flats. There were two strikes of lightening not far from my home. Thunder within a few seconds afterwards. I went out to comfort the pups. The storm came in so quickly, I didn't have enough time to find all of the cats and ferrets- and separate them so I could bring the dogs inside. But I couldn't leave them in the storm by themselves, so I sat outside with them. We huddled through on the side of the hill, and watched the clouds and rain pass by within ten or so minutes. It was the first thunder the dogs have heard, so it terrified them. Luckily, it passed quickly- and we've all settled in for the rest of the night.

Reading Motivation

I've been yearning for a moment to sit down and read for a while. I still have a few books I'd like to finish by summer's end. And although I'm lazy and I've spent a majority of my time writing snail mail and making crafts- I have yet to have the motivation to read. I go through phases. At certain times reading is all I ever want to do. At other times, reading is placed at a lower number on my to-do list. And currently I want to read, but I don't want to read. So it's quite a dilemma. And I'm awaiting an opportune moment that will provide book-delving motivation.

A Very Hot Summer

The weather has been so so hot this year! Western Alaska is not accustomed to such ridiculous heat spikes, and everyone is hiding away. Even the mosquitos are lulling in the weeds this year. Enjoying the shade and rarely coming out to greet any being that stands in the sunshine. The trees leaves although bright green, are dry. The grass mimics the same trait as the leaves. I have yet to see a moose or even a rabbit. And the swallows are only feeding in the late night-time hours when the sun reaches it's short setting period. Our 24 hours of sunlight, although beautiful and refreshing, can also produce quite a bit of heat. And this summer, that heat is so so evident.

A Green Garden

My garden is growing. This has been the first year in four years that has been hot enough and sunny enough for our plants to grow. A row of radishes are growing quickly and happily. A patch of loose-leaf lettuce is sprouting quickly. Onions are growing rapidly where they were planted. Potatoes are doing well. Only three green beans have burst through the surface. And just a single pea plant is making it's way towards the sun. No carrots have yet to show any growth. But, for half-way into the growing season I am pleasantly surprised. Very rarely do I have such a high yield. I am beyond excited, even though not everything is showing great results.

Being The Better Person

I'm good at raising white flags. I can't fight battles against people who love starting wars. Because that's not who I am. I'm not a fighter. I wish I was. I wish I could find the courage to tell people to be kind. But the only times I find myself able to stand up to harsh words- are when the words are directed at someone else. I'm magnificent at standing up for others. But when it's my own heart that's been broken, I rarely have the power to defend myself. It leaves me dwelling on ways to get revenge, only to realize my heart is too kind and my life too busy for me to go through with any evil plan. So I am left soured and defenseless. Eventually I have to forgive, and typically I'll often forget. And although I find this habit terribly inconvenient in times of heated words- I find it a blessing that I tend to come away from these instances looking as the better person.

Healthy Enough To Clean

To my sincere relief. My stomach seems to have settled it's own pain and I am now feeling much better. A few days of rest has left my cabin in a messy array though. So I think I'll be spending the next few days catching up on dirty dishes, unfolded laundry, and paw-print covered floors.

Unrelenting Pain

My body has been aching for three days now. The pain in my stomach is unbearable. I do not know what is wrong. I've been crippled on the couch, warming up heat pads to place on my lower back and stomach area. I feel a fever rising from all of the heat I'm administering to myself. I don't believe in medicines, but I forced myself to try an Advil today. It only made me nauseous and brought no relief from the pain. My back is drenched in sweat from the hurt. I hate feeling like this. I've lived on toast for the last three days. My darling animals have received no attention except for regular feedings that I force myself to get up for. I dearly hope the pain goes away soon. I can't afford medical treatment. And my herbs and home remedies are doing me no good.

To Disagree With Understanding

I will never understand how people can let differentiating opinions effect so much of their lives. They are consumed with discontentment in the fact that others practice different religions, have different political views, or believe in different ways of life. But we all walk different roads. Those roads lead us through different experiences- so we develop different values and create opinions based on different things. Does that mean our opinions are wrong? Or our values shou...ld be changed? We each possess a different mind, and we've had different situations that inspire our mind's thoughts. To each individual person- what they believe is right. And that is beautiful. And we should be enlightened by others. And even if we disagree, we should realize that those disagreements come not from the other person being wrong- but from the fact that person walked a different path, and accumulated their opinions in a different way. No one is truly right. No one is truly wrong. We're all just different because we've lived different lives. And being able to realize that, gives us the ability to listen and understand and DISAGREE without hate- but instead with understanding.

Cloudy Company

The weather finally changed to clouds after a constant bout of sunshine. I know I'll tire of the clouds at some point and begin dreaming of sunny days again. It seems as though I can never just be happy with the weather the way it is. But today, I am very happy with the clouds. The refreshing shadow they cast across the landscape is giving all of us a break from the summertime heat. Not to mention the darkness they bestowed upon the morning allowed me to sleep in a bit later than usual.

Alaskan Aloe Vera

I've covered my windowsills in aloe vera plants. They breed so quickly it's practically impossible to keep up with them. I seem to be transplanting a couple dozen new baby plants every 3 to 4 months. I'd dearly love to find a market for them. A greenhouse in Alaska who would buy them would utterly make my day! But as for now I just store them up, occasionally give a few away as gifts, and sell one or two through small handmade and homegrown vendors. I am grateful to have so many on hand though. They've soothed many bugbites, helped fight ear-mites in the cats, soothed one of my ferret's skin issues, and helped me transplant all of my vegetables to my garden without much damage. The juices are healing for any being. It's amazing how one plants medicinal property can benefit so many other living beings. I have many favorite green-fellowed friends. But aloe vera are among some of my most fascinating plants.

Warm Warm Summer

The sun has shown quite bright lately, blessing the landscape with an almost constant warmth. Unfortunately the heat is taking a toll on everyone. The cabin walls love the sun and cause my home to become a sort of an oven. The cats and ferrets rest a majority of the day- and only play in the morning and evenings when the world cools down. The dogs are outside- where at least there is a breeze. But even they with their black coats draw in the heat of the light above them. I bring them to the river to play once or twice a day, dowse them with water as well, and offer them a constant supply of cool refreshing drink. But I am kind of hoping for a cloudy day here soon. Even though I love love LOVE the sunshine- the heat of this summer is wearing on all of us. And a cool-day break would be quite welcome right about now.

Green Leaves Thickly Grown

The trees are in full-bloom now. Their leaves are big and green. The forests are no long splotched with rays of sunlight, but fully shadowed by the overhead foliage. Unfortunately on still-wind days the mosquitos are too thick to allow adventure into the timbers around my home. But on the occasional day when the breeze is strong, I can hike deep into the thickly treed areas and enjoy the company of one of my favorite creatures- bark covered beings.

My Old Lady Cat

Magpie is my 'old lady cat'. She's aged in the most graceful of forms. Beautiful in her elder beauty. But there is no doubting the fact that the years have taken their toll. I was blessed to adopt her recently. She was an old lady when she came into my family. And I'm sad to say I'll never know what her youthful spirit was like. But in her old age she is beautiful in so many ways. She sleeps a majority of the time. She loves basking in the sun, and especially enjoys using laps as her bed. She will curl into any gentle soul who sits near her and make her self comfortable upon their legs. She enjoys looking at all of the plants that bless my windowsills, and occasionally nibbles on the edible leaves. She sleeps on my pillow each and every night. And spends much time grooming my bedtime braids. She's sweet and gentle. A bit grouchy at times- but after such a long life she's learned exactly how to get what she wants. She's my dear little old lady, and I feel so blessed to have her in my life- even if I didn't get to have her for the entirety of her life.

Alaskan Surprise Snail-Mail

With the help of social networking online, I've created a snail-mail surprise box. I filled it with all kinds of Alaskan trinkets, and acquired the names and addresses of over a dozen people around the state of Alaska. The box will travel to each home and the trinkets inside will be frolicked through. Each person can take up to 3 items and replace them with another 'gift' for the next person to trade. It will venture everywhere from Fairbanks to Anchorage to Kenai to King Salmon and beyond. I'm utterly thrilled about it's adventure (and a bit envious of all of the lovely things it will see- and all the joy it will bring). The original gifts I put inside include gold trinkets, fur crafts, mammoth ivory, lynx claws, children's knick-knacks, photographs, handmade crafts, tundra tea, and Fur Rondy buttons. The treasures to be traded I am yet to know. But how dearly excited I am to discover what other's take out, and throw inside.

Swallow Update

The swallow who fell into my cabin-wall paint is fluttering in and out of her house now-a-days. Her mate is dearly pleased with himself for guarding her as she healed up. And now she's perky and well-feathered. Their eggs are hatched and they are in and out of the hole all day long collecting insects. I'm so so relieved to see she is doing well. I feared she wouldn't make it, but her constant appearance around my home has made me dearly happy. She is healthy as can be and rearing her young as well as any other mother. I'm so so thrilled to see her misfortune did not bring devastation.

Visitng Foster Children

The longest day of the year and I was blessed enough to spend a majority of it outside. I washed clothes in a toboggan-style sled for a few hours, then hung them up to dry in the hot hot sun. I took the dogs down to the river to splash about for a few minutes. I let the cats accompany me on a small walk into my backyard alder trees. And then my foster children (now back home with their family) came by to visit and we spent the rest of the evening splashing in the river. It was a lovely time. I miss them dearly and it's so nice to have them still a part of my life. They often recall the fun times they experienced at my house. And they still have the yearning to come 'home' and it breaks my heart. But I know that our fun times will always be memories to them. And their birth mother, although needing a bit of direction, does have a good heart.

One Dip, Four Fish

I don't ever expect to catch fish while fishing. I think the other fisherman do. It's an attitude they leave the dock with. I'm just along for the ride. Not really expecting anything grand. But today I was pleasantly surprised. My catches were low compared to everyone else. I was beginning to doubt any excitement coming from my net- as theirs continued to pull in fish after fish. But suddenly I felt quite a jolt, an unexpected quickly-splashing jolt. My first assumption was that I had caught an infamous King salmon- which are very strong and very big. But when I pulled in my net I saw not one fish, but two- wait three, no four. Four fish in one dip of a net. It's unheard of in these parts. With a river nearly a mile wide- and my net being only 2 feet wide the chances of catching more than 3 fish in one dip is almost impossible. And yet there I was, struggling to pull in four wild salmon. It was the dear motivation I needed. When I was beginning to doubt my ability to catch, the river handed me four fish as reassurance.

Sitting On The Bow

I sit on the bow of the boat while fishing. I feel freer there. I'm not so trapped in the metal sides. I let my rain boots dangle over the edge and skim the surface of the river. I hold the dip net usually in my right hand, to the northward side of the boat. It's nice, peaceful. I'm not looking at the other fisherman. I'm sitting in my own spot, facing away from their company. My company is not the fellow fisherman, but the river itself. The waters. The sun. The soft and constant breeze that ripples through the waves. Those things are my company. My friends. My fishing companions. And they tend to bring me the best of luck. As my bow-seat tends to cause disapproving comments from the other fishermen. It's a technique not widely used. And yet, every day- I equally match their catches, sometimes exceeding them, and always prove their comments pointless.

Uncertainty of the Future

I have so many dreams for the future. I often find myself worrying of whether or not they will be so. It's very hard to contemplate dreams, to work for goals, when there is no guarantee of everything eventually falling into place. I have to commonly remind myself that if it's supposed to be so, it will be so. Fate has a way of taking care of all worries. That eases my mind a little. But the uncertainty of my dreams makes dreaming a troublesome task. For not only does it enlighten me to my hopes of what is to come- it brings the unfortunate reality that those hopes may never come at all.

Chores Are No Fun

I hate chores. I really cannot even begin to explain how sincerely I despise dirty dishes and unfolded laundry. The ever-so-time-consuming duties that everyone must do. Without running water the time-consuming part becomes even more true. Fill up the basins to wash the dishes. Heat up the water. Scrub and rinse and dry. Laundry is even more of a pain. Heating water, filling up the bucket, and then vigorously scrubbing and swishing and splashing. Rinsing is even more difficult as soap tends to forever linger. I'd eat from dirty dishes if the leftover fish residue wouldn't rot. And I'd wear dirty clothes if I never had a visitor to judge my stench. But fish residue does rot, and I do have visitors that I am too kind to to make bare my smell. So chores must be done. And, alas, I must be the one to do them.

Writing A Million Thoughts

I've been writing a lot lately. Mainly scribbling notes of little facts and ideas I want to hold onto for later. Things of animal care, gardening, and child adoption seem to be the most prominent subjects. Things I hold most dear to my heart, I suppose. I sometimes wonder if my mind works faster than others. If it thinks thoughts more continuously than others. I often feel as though my hands are too weak for the amount of things I wish them to write. They cramp and cringe out in pain, crying for a break- and yet I cannot stop. Eventually I have to part ways with my type-writer, pencil, or pen. My hand gives into so much agony that my body makes me stop for a moment. And yet my brain continues on. Spewing thoughts I wish I could write down fast enough. It never ends. It's a constant cycle of ideas that never ends. And the only way I can organize or remember it all- is to write it down.

Dipnetting Dangerous Winds

I attempted to dip net on the Yukon today. The waters began calm. The sun was glittering on the surface of the water. Fifteen fish were easily caught. But within a matter of a few half an hours, a large dark grey cloud appeared over the hills that lie on the south side of the river. Ominous in every way. The winds forewarned us of what was to come- but we ignored them. A common mistake of most fisherman. Greed for one more catch was upon us, and mother nature was ready to teach us when safety is more important than abundance. In a matter of minutes the winds churned up waves so high that the river's waters mimicked an ocean's. Our boat rocked and swayed and heaved battling the waves. The tiny prop pushed as hard as it could but the winds and the heaviness of our net made for a rough trip home. Through many bumps and harsh down-pours we finally made it back to the cabin. Soaking wet and worn out. Mother nature had certainly gotten her point across.

An Unused Library

Just found out my village has an old library FULL of books- but it's been boarded up and locked away for the last 10+ years because "No children wanted to read". My heart both fluttered and broke when I walked in. There were so many books covered in dust. I just wanted to take them and love them all. And yet I'm so so sad- how can all of these books be sitting here unread for so long? Surely there... are children who want to read them somewhere amidst this village. I want so terribly to be the librarian, but neither the Tribe nor City wants to pay electricity in order to 'legally open' the building. How can no one else see the importance of free access to literary art in the village? I feel like I'm the only one here who sees what an amazing opportunity this could be for the youth.

Dogs and Waves

I took the dogs for their first swim in the river today. Rascal appears to be part lab, but he is still quite skeptical of the river waves. He follows me in happily, but with doubt in his eyes. He doesn't trust the water, nor does he yet know he can swim. I take him in as deep as his feet still touch the ground, and let him cool off in the water. I'll splash him a bit in the hopes he realizes how refreshing it is on a hot day. But he's still water shy. And I'm patient. So we'll be working on that. Coho trotted in once, happily, to cool off. Then, being the stubborn woman she is, plotted her feet dead on the ground and wouldn't budge to come in again. I couldn't pull her in, nor could I taunt her in. She has no lab in her though, so I wasn't expecting anything more than a quick romp from her. Her malamute stubborn-ness never fails to humble me.

Learning To Cut Dry Fish

Spent the day cutting salmon to hang and dry. This was the first year I learned how to cut 'dry fish' a Yup'ik cultural tradition that involves cutting salmon and hanging it to dry. It seems like a complicated process and I feared I'd make a white fool of myself. But it was actually quite simple and I got the hang of it within my first few fish. Dry fish is among one of my favorite foods, and now that I'll be able to prepare it myself I am very happy. One is never too old or too young to acquire a new recipe. And my cookbook is forever adding pages.

The Pup's Landscape

I've stayed inside with rainy weather for too long now. So I headed out in the drizzle and decided it was time to redo the dogs tie-lines. They spend a majority of their time on tie lines. They can both climb and dig through any fence. So tie lines are the safest option in a village where animal control is animal shooting. The trees had overgrown their view of the house- and they both dearly like to see in the windows and front door. So I chopped a little 'window' in the alder for them to view from, and then moved their tie lines to an open area where they could also view the cabin. They're much happier now. Barking and demanding things- and knowing when I look out the window to tell them "No more treats- you've already had too many today!"

Cats and the Shrew

Toby caught a shrew today. Quite proud he was, trotting up our dirt road to the front door with the furry bit hanging from his jaws. He waited for me to open the door, then ran inside eager to show the other cats. At first they were less than enthralled- it was already dead and they are not interested in dead things. But after Toby playfully tossed it into the air a few times, Minnie Mag and Ozzy jumped in to play as well. And the night was spent with much jumping of cat feet as the shrew was thrown about. Granted, I'm not entirely fond of animal death. And my heart pitied the shrew. But I realize it's not fair to keep a hunting carnivore from hunting. So it's only natural they occasionally get to play with something once alive. And I am quite proud of the little darlings. Their tiger instincts have not completely evaded them.

Mangey, The Eldest

Mangey is my eldest ferret. I don't know her age, but I know she's quite old. When she first came into my family, she was completely bald on her rear end. The ferret rescue and told me this was due to cancer, and a surgery had been done to reverse the hair loss. It's been two months now and her hair is regrowing. She is mostly gray now, with a few brown streaks of her youth trying to still grow. Her back feet curl in which keep her from walking correctly. My heart thinks this is the outcome of being raised in a wire cage. The poor thing can barely balance. But she is oh so loving, sweet, and kind. She sleeps much of the time but enjoys and occasional exploratory trot throughout the house. She loves food- especially eggs and chicken. And she's quite keen on snuggling- as am I, which makes us quite a nice duo. I know she may not have much more than a year left in her, but I am so dearly happy she gets to spend the rest of her life with me. As fragile as she is, she's so sweet and full of life. Her old soul brings so much happiness to my young one.

Off and On Weather

The weather is playing tricks on me today. Downpours of rain rush in, and within five minutes the sun is showing through with the brightest of rays. I get my hopes up that the storms have seized, only to have the clouds roll in again. I've decided perhaps indoors is the place for me today. I'm not necessarily thrilled, but I must admit I do have the urge to write

Paint Covered Swallow

Today as I was painting the outside cabin walls, a group of swallows began to have a bickerment of the bird house on my porch. When all of the sudden a poor little dear female (the one I'm assuming had eggs in the nest) fell down from the air and straight into my paint. Scared for her well-being I quickly went over and tried to grab her. My hands covered in paint, I had to call out for my darling to help me. We quickly washed her. The paint was drying fast and it crusted on my hands so quickly that I feared it would enclose her feathers in the same hardness if we didn't scrub quickly. Unfortunately our spring water is oh so cold, and in washing her, we also sent her into a hypothermic state. Once she was entirely clean, I clasped her in my hands and concentrated every bit of my heat to her. We sat inside for a while. She shivered and occassionally looked up at me- debating whether or not I was a threat. After a few calm whispers though, she grasped her feet around my finger and rested down. She continued to shiver, but gained strength. I knew the stress of being inside, away from her eggs, and wet would ultimately fret her to death. So we brought her out to her house, and she slipped inside to dry up and rest with her babies. I haven't seen her yet, but I'm hoping she's okay. Rest is the best medicine- and my quite riverside home is one of the most convenient places for rest. So I'm assuming she'll be quite fine.

Painting The Cabin

Yet another sunny day. I've been painting the house. It is not my ideal work. The old board walls are rotting away and painting them is not an easy feat. With every flick of the paintbrush old wood falls to the ground. I can't seem to get every nook and cranny, and I certainly cannot make my cabin look any better. I'm not painting for physical appearance, but rather for functionality. My hopes are that the paint will preserve the wood. High hopes for such old walls, though. Keeping an old home in new shape is not easy. But letting it rot away in Alaska's harsh weather is not an option. So, paint I shall- until the bucket runs empty.

Fishing For Few Fish

The sun came out full fledged today. So I opted to spend my time on the water, in my boat, fishing salmon. Dip netting is not the most efficient way to catch fish on a river delta, but our laws are tight now-a-days are currently drift nets are restricted. So dip netting it is. The river was glass calm today and I was very happy to be out and about atop of the waters. The salmon were few though. And our first day of the season brought us only 3 fish. We gave two to friends around the village and kept one for dinner (and a snack for the dogs). It was a good way to spend the day, but didn't end with quite the catch I was hoping for. Perhaps we'll be able to fill our smokehouse in a few days, when the river is fuller of fins and scales than it is now.

Mosquitoes Coming

The mosquitos are hatching. Ugh, I hate to admit one creature I am not fond of is mosquitos. Although I admire their daring nature and determination- I cannot find them tolerable. My body is less than accustomed to bites and I have no will power when it comes to not scratching an itch. So, inevitably, my entire body swells up from their blood thirsty nips. I've tried every home remedy. Hot spoons, baking soda, toothpaste, aloe- nothing cures the bumps. It's one of my least-favorite parts of summer. And unfortunately, in Alaska, it's one of the most constant and ever-bugging aspects that come along with 24 hours of sun.

Plan To Befriend Seagulls

The seagulls have made their way back to the mighty Yukon River. They drift off South in the fall and come home to unfrozen waters in the spring. I love their company dearly- and hope, that now that I live along the river, I can befriend them. For now they're quite scared of humans, and me for that matter. But I hope to change that. I love their sweet calls and playful water antics. I know that my best bet of making peace with them is to love their young. I'll wait until the chicks hatch- naive to the ways of people, and begin feeding them. Food, inevitably, creates close relationships. So fish shall be thrown to the waters. And hopefully, my offerings will bring a return of their white feathered company when I walk the beaches.

Forever More Rain, Still Winds

The rain I mentioned in a prior post has now drug on and on. There's no end in sight. And although the droplets have been few today, the overcasting clouds leave the ever-dwelling doubt of rain returning. The winds have died down though, leaving the river calm. I prefer to look at it when it's not ravaged with waves. There is something so simply delightful about still glass waters.

Thoughts Of Adoption

Two years ago, when I first started the process to become a qualified foster parent through the state of Alaska- a child was pointed out to me (not on purpose, more as a passerby) from Washington. I have thought about that child and checked their availability for two years straight. They connected to me. I just cared about them since the instant I first saw them- I couldn't explain why. I've spent many nights praying they'd find a family. Two years of trial placements and heartache have gone by. And my praying has yet to bring an answer. I'm beginning to wonder, if I myself am the answer. Every logical explanation says 'no'. According to my age- I'm really only 'available' to adopt younger children- no one over 8 would be deemed appropriate. And although I always knew I wanted to adopt older children, I never intended to at 22. But, aside from all the reasons my mind has told me 'no', my heart keeps pleading 'try'. So I think this girl is going to start the process to get a WA-quality home study. Not sure if this is the way fate wanted me to go. But I guess I'll let the social workers and adoption agencies decide that.

How I've Grown

How have I changed since I originally began writing this diary? I don't know if I've changed much at all- perhaps I've simply merely grown. I've grown into comfort with my surroundings. The changing seasons of Alaska don't leave me as confused as they used to. I'm accustomed to them now. I know the sun's patterns, the ways of the snowfall, the changing of the scenery from month to month. I can judge the weather with accuracy. And I know the impacts the changing winds will have on the waters. I can identify a majority of the plants and animal tracks. I can do many things now that I lacked the ability to do before. I am not so naïve, perhaps. I've been awakened to misfortunes and the realities of adulthood. But a part of me still (and I hope forever always) hangs onto its innocence. I still find admiration in everything beyond my window. I still hopelessly love and hang onto every kind soul I meet (whether it be a tree, a stray cat, or a fellow human). And I still find inspiration in so so many places. I haven't changed for the worse- I've merely grown for the better.

The Homestead's Description

I haven't truly taken a moment to literarily depict my new homestead. My cabin. My house on the banks of the Yukon River. It's about a mile's walk from the village. It sits at the end of a dirt road. To the south lies the mighty and wide Yukon. To the north is a steep hill, leading to the top of one of the first mountains hills inland from the Bering Sea. To the west, lies the road that takes me to the village. And to the east lies a thick never-ending grove of alder trees.

The house itself is small, very old, made of plywood walls and a tin roof. It's three rooms. A kitchen and living room area makes up the largest portion of the house. In the middle of this room sits our woodstove. And off from the room, in the back of the house, lies one bedroom and a bathroom. Alas- there is no running water here, so our bathroom is simply an attached outhouse. But it works ideally for us.

The backyard features a wood-burning steam house, where we bathe. A smoke house and fish rack where we prepare and store meat for the winter. And a fenced running area for the dogs. The western portion of the yard is dedicated to my garden- as well as a grove of wild-berry bushes and tundra tea. A few edible greens also grow there in the spring. On the east side of the yard sits three old boats, of which the last owner left. As well as a worn down camper. They may look junk-like to some. But I admire them. They're old and weathered and tell many stories.

The home, for the most part, is quiet. Many birds are nesting here now. The river keeps me constantly company with it's waves. Everything about it, is perfect for me. A mansion could not even begin to compare from the solitude and peace I receive from my humble abode.

De-Motivating Rains

The rains have set in. In Eastern Alaska, it's a blessing- for they've been cursed with a terrifying wildfire. But in Western Alaska the only thing they're bringing is a much needed quench of thirst for our springing plants. For me, they have only prolonged my spring-cleaning procrastination. During the sunny days I pushed cleaning aside in order to run about outside- playing with the pups and planting the garden. Now that I'm stuck indoors, the cloudy skies only give me even more of a lack of motivation to clean. The beat of the rain makes good company for book reading- which has become my only activity throughout the storm. But the sound of the watered windows leaves me no inspiration to do the much needed organizing my cabin is requiring.

Fly-Eating Ferret

A majority of my windows face south- which is such a blessing. The sun fills my home with light from early dawn to late dusk. It's welcoming and warming and the cats enjoy following the sunbeams as they walk across the cabin floor. On the other hand, yet another creature avidly enjoys the warmth of the sun. And those creatures are flies. Although I love flies- they are among one of my favorite critters to have in my house, when more than 50 of them have delved into my home things get noisey and frenzy and unfortunately unbearable. But Apollo, my albino male ferret, keeps them at bay for me. For whenever the buzzing gets to loud, he comes out from his blanket, climbs up the couch, crawls onto the windowsill, and targets, traps, and eats each and EVERY one of the buzzing creatures. Ferret foods is quite affordable with a little fly-eater like him. And he's much more efficient than I and a fly-swatter ever could be.

Cold Weathered Garden

On a sunshiney day, four days ago, I planted my garden. I tilled up a little lap of soil on the south facing side of my homestead's hill, organized different areas with pebbles from the beach, and then planted seeds of varying kinds. Carrots, loose-leaf lettuce, radishes, onions, green beans, snow peas, and potatoes. And of course, with the such luck I behold, a cold-front has blessed the landscape for the last three days. I'm sitting her impatiently awaiting the wind to change- and with it bring warmth and sunshine. But all I'm receiving is cloudy weather and chilled afternoons. I dearly hope my little seeds wait just a little longer to sprout- as this weather will do them no good as they grow.

Woodstove Swallow

For the last two days I have heard a rustling in my woodstove. I dismissed it as breezes taunting my chimney, but after two days of the cats looking up with curiosity- I myself became curious. With the help of my darling, we dismantled the stove, and out from the pipe shown the bright blue wings of a swallow. The poor thing was covered in soot. It's eyes were permanently closed. It was light and weak. After a few gentle dousings of water, though, it slowly opened it's eyes, and then began to demand it's freedom. Within only 10 minutes of washing it clean, it was ready to fly again. So out it went- to the morning sky. I felt so lucky to have helped the little darling. He seemed so thrilled to finally be beyond the confines of a wood-stove pipe. And the little darling has now blessed me with his company just beyond my kitchen window.

Yet Another Late Return

I have not written in quite some time. I often sit down to rebegin my documentation of my beautifully blessed Alaskan life, and somehow- life evades my inspiration and off I go in another adventure haven't not even documented my last. So I am back, today, to write a catch-up, and hopefully start writing again regularly.

The last few months have been busy, but beautiful. We had the warmest winter on record in Alaska. There was rarely even snow! We had such minimal amounts that the road to my rural cabin stayed open all winter long- and travel to and from the village was quite convenient. Next year probably won't be so easy. But the first year in my new home was surprisingly welcoming. We didn't need to burn the woodstove too often, or pull out sleds to travel. In fact most of the places I went this winter were by foot- which is a rarity in Alaska.

In midwinter I fostered three beautiful Native Yup'ik Eskimo children- as I had mentioned in my last post. They will forever have my heart. Blanche, Booper, and Cynthia. They blessed my home with laughter, loudness- and most of all, love. They come to visit regularly now. They are back that their mothers, which is a blessing. I do miss them dearly, though. Having children (even if it was for a mere couple months) made my life more fulfilled than it has been in quite some time.

My two new feline members did come. Magpie and Minnie Mag. But along with them, purely by fate, arrived Toby (a siamese boy) and Ozzy (short for ocelot, which he looks a lot like). And shortly after them came Apollyon, Mangey, and Shiva three ferrets from the Forget-Me-Not Ferret Rescue in Alaska.

It is now summer. I have tilled and planted a garden in my front yard. It overlooks the Yukon River. I am in the process of building a large fenced run for the pups (who are hyper and loving as usual). Life is treating me beautifully, and I promise to write about it from now on.

My Very Late Return

So I vanished for a while- about four months. Jeez, time flies! So what did I do? Officially settled into my new homestead. Rascal is doing amazing- no signs of abuse at all anymore. He's just a normal pup now. Coho and him keep each other entertained 24/7. I fostered three native children for the tribe over Christmas while their mom was in treatment. It was a really wonderful experience- and I fe...el so privileged to have been a part of it. I built a maqii (Eskimo steam house) and am learning the ways of VERY hot bathing. And in two days I shall be adopting two very beautiful cats from Clear Creek Cat Rescue. The adoption has been arranged for a while (nearly four months), but fate postponed it until now. I'm very eager to have my new family members officially home though! And other than that I've been very busy. Getting by doing what little bush dwellers do- lighting woodstoves and packing water and complaining a lot about the weather.