So, It's Winter

Hmm, it has been snowing on and off all day long. Wet, heavy, not-fun-to-walk-in snow that clings to our hair and feet and makes walking on the decks kind of dangerous. Just ask the dog.

Our final indicator that winter is indeed here came on the way to church this morning, as we noticed traffic at a standstill on one of our busy cross-town streets. This only happens for one reason in Alaska; indeed, there were two moose, a cow and an older calf, trying to figure out on which side of the street they wished to be. I have said it before; moose are just as scary standing still as they are moving, as one never knows when they will decide to do just that. Back and forth across the median they went, finally entering a neighborhood where I am sure they figured they wouldn't have to make any decisions more complicated than choosing a tree to nibble upon.

We saw another on our way home, but on the highway in the middle of a snow squall. the dumb young bull wanted to go across the four-lane road NOW, and just couldn't grasp waiting a second more. I hate when they do that; I do not want to witness any moose-car collisions so soon into the season.

Church had a group lunch today after services, and the aroma of harvest bean, chicken noodle, and even coconut thai soups wafted around. A wonderful way to spend a Sunday afternoon. Time to break out the crock pot around here.

Columbus Weekend Storm 2008

Holy cow, I thought we left the South to get away from hurricane winds. The weather service had warned of high winds last night, but I don't think anybody expected this. Up to 90 mph.

After a restless night of feeling the whole house shake and waiting for the roof to blow off, Yukon and I finally got up around 5:30 a.m. to put Bear, who was scared by this time (weren't we all), back to bed. We looked out our bedroom window towards our neighbor's back yard and watched their trampoline come barreling right towards us. With a terrific crash that knocked a framed photo off of the bedroom wall, it wedged itself against the house and back deck stairs, narrowly missing our window and the natural gas pipes. Shortly after this, the barbeque tipped over.

We dressed quickly and made our way down the landing to bring in the front deck table and chairs, as well as an antique bench. We were a little late for the bench, as it blew across the decking and took out three rails. I had to hold the door open for Yukon as he threw everything in the stairwell in between gusts.

We didn't mess around after that; we snatched Bear from his bed and went downstairs to wait the rest of the storm out. It all died down around 9:00 a.m., but re-emerged soon after and has made for a difficult chore of cleaning up. Fortunately Yukon had decided ahead of time to take the day off. The sun seems to be trying to come out a bit; a crazy, crazy day.

Update From the Wolf Den

Sitting in church last Sunday, the bracelet I wore was a bit noisy as it rattled and clinked against the pews and hymn books. The charm on the bracelet is a heart with some tiny white beads inside, and was given to me to honor women who have battled breast cancer. Inside the heart were words I had not bothered to read before. Three words, making a statement so simple and eloquent for me in this stage of Wolf's absence.

The day before, Yukon, Bear and I had gone to REI's Fall Sale to stock up on a few things. Ambling through the bike section, I came fact-to-face with the physician (learning disabilities specialist, M.D.) that intruduced Yukon and I to the concept of Asperger Syndrome. She was also the one who told us, before we switched providers, that residential treatment options "rarely work".

Surprised to see her, I asked how she was, and she responded in kind, inquiring as to our family's health and welfare. I mentioned Wolf's enrollment in CHYC, and was met with an unnerving, "Ohhhhhh, is he?"

Granted, I should have known this would be the reaction, and should have known that eventually, somebody somewhere was going to not agree with our decision to place Wolf at a residential facility. I just wasn't expecting it to come in the middle of cycling apparel at REI. I began to doubt, and it bothered me the rest of the day, all night, and into the next morning as I perched on my pew at church.

"Trust Your Journey", said the words. Just like that.

Trust that Wolf's physical needs as a growing young man are being met. That his shoes fit, his teeth are brushed, and his never-full stomach is satisfied.

Trust that his emotional needs are met as an immature child lives far away from home and is asked to cope with a living situation most of us did not confront until we left for college much, much later in our teen years.

Trust that we as a family will use this time as an opportunity, not a vacation, from the difficult days leading up to Wolf's admission to CHYC, for the four of us to collaborate and grow in our knowledge and support of all children who live day after day with Asperger Syndrome.

Trust that I know what I did, and I know what I am doing as best for my family.

Trust in Wolf himself to believe, achieve, and perservere through his own personal journey while at the same time preparing himself to return home to a new setting with new boundaries.

When I was first learning the art of directional way-finding, my dad always taught me to trust my compass, especially when climbing tricky Mt. Hood. Many people, he said, tried to find their own way down, following what they thought was the natural curve down to the lodge. They ended up way west, in a deep canyon of snow and wind. The compass, my wise father said, will not lie. Trust it.

Idit 2009 Gears Up

Believe it or not, Iditarod 2009 is up and running, thanks in part to huge interest in Alaska lately. In the spirit of 'Deadliest Catch' and the other Alaska-themed shows where the Lower 48 gets to live vicariously through us Alaskans, there is a new show in town.

'Toughest Race on Earth; Iditarod' starts tomorrow night (Tues) on the Discovery Channel at 8 p.m. Alaska time. Tonight Yukon, Bear, and I, along with about 500 of the Idit's closest friends, got to see the preview. Over six weeks, viewers who are intrigued about the Iditarod Sled Dog Race will get to see an insider's impression of what goes on along the 1,000 + miles of trail.

The show is pretty accurate, given the Hollywood nature of television 'reality' these days. For those who follow this blog, you will get to see mushers interviewed by yours truly, and follow them on the trail throughout Race 2008. If you look hard, you can even see me crouched along the starting line in Anchorage. On the left, just beyond the line.

Last week I (barring any unforseen issues) secured the Idit and Fur Rondy Guides for Coast magazine. Let the race begin!

This is NOT Looking Good for Me

5:05 p.m., snowing very, very hard. Grass beginning to be covered. It is October 6, not December 6.
Prospects of a movie and dinner to my specifications are not looking positive.

Update, 5:20 p.m., snowing VERY, VERY hard, grass is now covered, street is beginning to look white. Let the dog outside and he ran in circles.

I have horrible visions of Habenero chili and 'The Guns of Navarone'.

The Vote

No, not THAT vote. I refer, on this flurry-ing morning, to the Annual Kirkland Family Snow Date vote. The much-anticipated family bet that has us all on the edge of our cross-country skis.

Each Autumn we view the calendar and decide individually when it is going to snow. Rules dictate that the first snowfall must a) cover the grass so that you cannot see green (okay to see it under trees, however), and b) whoever is closest to the chosen date by two days still wins. I won last year with this rule.

The celebrated winner gets to choose dinner and a movie. I can assure readers that Yukon, Bear, and even Wolf will not soon forget the chinese food and "White Christmas" event of last year when it snowed on October 28. That, incidentially, was the last significant snowfall until Christmas Day, when it snowed a foot.

Yes, Wolf will be participating. If he wins, we will transport a goodie box of favorite things to him. He is understandably excited.

For those who would like to contribute to this gamble over the weather, the dates chosen are, after careful consideration and consultation with the www.weather.gov site, the Almanac, and the depth of hair present on the dog:

Yukon: October 15

Mom: October 17 (wouldn't it be something to win on my 40th birthday)

Wolf: November 5

Bear: October 23 (he always gets his birthday by virtue of not knowing what a calendar is.)

I will tell you that this morning as I watch daylight finally appear, there is snow directly above us, and mixed snow and rain outside my window.

With the Cold Comes the Croup

After a valiant effort by Bear at the Tuesday Night Race Series, at which he ran a tough up-and-down course through the woods for a mile, the little soldier is now down and out with croup. It has been an interesting few days, with more barking around here than the dog pound. All indications are for a smooth recovery however, despite a shot of steroids to open the breathing passages and make life more comfortable. Fortunately, Yukon walked over from his office to the pediatrician's and was the Bear-wrangler for that.

I don't actually mind a sick child sometimes; long nights and clingy-ness notwithstanding. It gives me pause, to have to remain home with no agenda but that which I plan out from the kitchen table over coffee. Catch up on laundry, clean out under the bathroom sink, cook a chicken.

At least the weather is still nice; crisp and cold but clear. Might change tonight as snow/rain showers could be making their way over the mountains.