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.
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.
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.
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