I lost my camera.
I am consumed by this. Where on earth could it be?
We had a "dance party" this afternoon in the living room with my 2 year old and 11 month old and have no pictures to show for it... how sad. You know the country song by Lady Antebellum that goes "Sometimes I find myself wondering where you are" has been stuck in my head as I look under my bed, in all the various bags I own, in all the pockets of all the coats, and in the car...
Dang. This is a sad, sad day. I have been accused many times in my life for being a bad finder. But not even my husband or little boy know where it is. I can usually depend on them to find anything I have lost.
waaaaaaaaaaa!
I was going to show you the picture of my newest crochet ambitions but, I can't. As the title of this blog would have you believe, it should have something to do with yarn. Well, I promise, I do crochet and I do knit. You will just have to wait for another day to see my products though...
I am sure you are just holding your breath in severe anticipation.
Thursday, May 10, 2012
Wednesday, May 9, 2012
Living in Alaska
I wonder if it's what everyone suspects that it is.
I have, in my short years on this earth, found that there are plenty of people who either think of Alaska as a whole other country, which is primitive and wild at best and are scared of the very idea of being in a place so frozen in time. Or, people idolize it because they think of it as primitive and wild and want to experience that in full force, being able to do whatever their primitive minds can think of doing in a country unruled by human effects and fashion.
Despite these notions, I know I can confirm a few things right off the bat.
We don't live in igloos.
We do have dog sled teams, but (usually) not as our main source of transportation. It is a source of fun and sport and for a very few, their livelihood.
Many Alaskans still use the "honey bucket" and or outhouse and, generally speaking, these methods are as common as using indoor plumbing. But, I think most prefer running water... I think.
It is light all summer and dark all winter. Granted, there is a little transition time during the spring and early winter where it is a little more "normal".
We do have cities in Alaska. Although, someone from New York or Los Angeles might question the validity of that statement, it's true!
We have many, many villages in Alaska. Some have a population of 20 while others might have as many as 4,000. My parents live in one with a population of 80ish.
We have grand mountains and vast tundras, huge trees, dessert land and bogs and islands and ocean and you name it, we probably have it in some form or another. Mind you, it was probably frozen or still is and will be for the next thousand years, but by george, it's there.
We struggle with what can be grown here but most everything has been tried. Grapes have flourished in a greenhouse heated by a hot springs.
The northern lights are common in the winter and always magnificent! You just have to get away from the town lights to see them.
Moose abound and will eat your garden if you don't put a HIGH fence around it. Sometimes, that won't even keep them out.
Depending on where you live, bears also abound. Here in the interior, they are not as common as in the southern areas, but boy, they are awesome and deadly.
Some things that I know about my life here:
I am usually cold. But a few days of the year, I get to wear shorts and tanks and my life is once again complete.
There is absolutely NOTHING like a summer in Fairbanks Alaska. No matter where you are from, if you live anywhere south of my town, you have no idea what you mean when you say you are happy for spring to have arrived.
Growing things gives life to my soul, and it's not because I am good at it, it is because I need to see something green, something growing, something that smells like dirt and life during my 9-10 months indoors.
There is no other way for me to survive the winters than by getting out in them.
Summer brings this crazy spirit out of everyone and suddenly all the things that were "planned" for summer get thrown out the window and we are just moving and going and doing ALL the time because there is so much to do and see and build and experience.
Every year is a surprise.
You never get "used" to anything. Not the dark, not the light, not the cold or the snow in June. Not the mosquitoes, not the 40 below temps, or the way the northern lights look when you are skiing in the woods all by yourself and it's dark but the clock says 4:30 pm.
This Alaskan life is ever changing, always keeping us on our toes, guessing and reaching for that unreasonable hope we all get every spring to keep planting, to keep living, to keep loving this place that is supposed to be predictable but continues to surprise me every. single. year.
Why do I live here?
Because I would miss it if I didn't.
Because the people that you find here are a unique bunch anyone would equally love and call crazy.
Because I get to call myself Alaskan. And for as much as anyone might not want to admit it, there is a pretty cool note of pride and respect that goes with that name, and I need all the respect I can get.
I have, in my short years on this earth, found that there are plenty of people who either think of Alaska as a whole other country, which is primitive and wild at best and are scared of the very idea of being in a place so frozen in time. Or, people idolize it because they think of it as primitive and wild and want to experience that in full force, being able to do whatever their primitive minds can think of doing in a country unruled by human effects and fashion.
Despite these notions, I know I can confirm a few things right off the bat.
We don't live in igloos.
We do have dog sled teams, but (usually) not as our main source of transportation. It is a source of fun and sport and for a very few, their livelihood.
Many Alaskans still use the "honey bucket" and or outhouse and, generally speaking, these methods are as common as using indoor plumbing. But, I think most prefer running water... I think.
It is light all summer and dark all winter. Granted, there is a little transition time during the spring and early winter where it is a little more "normal".
We do have cities in Alaska. Although, someone from New York or Los Angeles might question the validity of that statement, it's true!
We have many, many villages in Alaska. Some have a population of 20 while others might have as many as 4,000. My parents live in one with a population of 80ish.
We have grand mountains and vast tundras, huge trees, dessert land and bogs and islands and ocean and you name it, we probably have it in some form or another. Mind you, it was probably frozen or still is and will be for the next thousand years, but by george, it's there.
We struggle with what can be grown here but most everything has been tried. Grapes have flourished in a greenhouse heated by a hot springs.
The northern lights are common in the winter and always magnificent! You just have to get away from the town lights to see them.
Moose abound and will eat your garden if you don't put a HIGH fence around it. Sometimes, that won't even keep them out.
Depending on where you live, bears also abound. Here in the interior, they are not as common as in the southern areas, but boy, they are awesome and deadly.
Some things that I know about my life here:
I am usually cold. But a few days of the year, I get to wear shorts and tanks and my life is once again complete.
There is absolutely NOTHING like a summer in Fairbanks Alaska. No matter where you are from, if you live anywhere south of my town, you have no idea what you mean when you say you are happy for spring to have arrived.
Growing things gives life to my soul, and it's not because I am good at it, it is because I need to see something green, something growing, something that smells like dirt and life during my 9-10 months indoors.
There is no other way for me to survive the winters than by getting out in them.
Summer brings this crazy spirit out of everyone and suddenly all the things that were "planned" for summer get thrown out the window and we are just moving and going and doing ALL the time because there is so much to do and see and build and experience.
You never get "used" to anything. Not the dark, not the light, not the cold or the snow in June. Not the mosquitoes, not the 40 below temps, or the way the northern lights look when you are skiing in the woods all by yourself and it's dark but the clock says 4:30 pm.
This Alaskan life is ever changing, always keeping us on our toes, guessing and reaching for that unreasonable hope we all get every spring to keep planting, to keep living, to keep loving this place that is supposed to be predictable but continues to surprise me every. single. year.
Why do I live here?
Because I would miss it if I didn't.
Because the people that you find here are a unique bunch anyone would equally love and call crazy.
Because I get to call myself Alaskan. And for as much as anyone might not want to admit it, there is a pretty cool note of pride and respect that goes with that name, and I need all the respect I can get.
Tuesday, May 8, 2012
2 years old
My little man is very anxious for some things in life. I think he captures most of them in this brief statement:
"Momma, I need a story. I need a stor, I need soup. Momma, I need sou, I need chili!. Momma, I'm hungry!! Let's go outside."
The past few days have been cold and yesterday it hailed. Summer does not want to show itself. Regardless of the weather though, Noah still wants to play outside. I can hardly blame him, but yesterday while it was hailing I told him it would be better to stay inside because, "It's just too wet and cold, baby!"
But he insisted and I was in no mood for a fight. I let him go. Not a minute later he was standing outside the door crying. I went to see him and I asked him why he was having such issues and he informed me, as though I would not ever have known otherwise, that, "It's just too wet and cold, baby!"
Oh how a mother must always hold her tongue! An "I told you so!" would do nothing to affect the situation... So I had to thoughtfully say once more, "okay, come inside." Peel off his coat and boots and have a little more snuggle time on the couch with my sweet two year old boy.
He makes up for any indiscretion though, when before climbing up on the couch he says, "Do you know what Momma? I love you." and leans his little head onto my shoulder.
Can I melt now?
"Momma, I need a story. I need a stor, I need soup. Momma, I need sou, I need chili!. Momma, I'm hungry!! Let's go outside."
The past few days have been cold and yesterday it hailed. Summer does not want to show itself. Regardless of the weather though, Noah still wants to play outside. I can hardly blame him, but yesterday while it was hailing I told him it would be better to stay inside because, "It's just too wet and cold, baby!"
But he insisted and I was in no mood for a fight. I let him go. Not a minute later he was standing outside the door crying. I went to see him and I asked him why he was having such issues and he informed me, as though I would not ever have known otherwise, that, "It's just too wet and cold, baby!"
Oh how a mother must always hold her tongue! An "I told you so!" would do nothing to affect the situation... So I had to thoughtfully say once more, "okay, come inside." Peel off his coat and boots and have a little more snuggle time on the couch with my sweet two year old boy.
He makes up for any indiscretion though, when before climbing up on the couch he says, "Do you know what Momma? I love you." and leans his little head onto my shoulder.
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