What Me, Worry?

 The Lighting of the Fort survived what organizer Annette Smith said was the worst weather, ever. It was raining snow, sideways. This has prompted concerns about the Snow Dragon's appearance in Saturday's Christmas parade. The church youth group will be manning the dragon, and Pizza Joe will be the head. There will probably be too many volunteers at the new school cafeteria on Saturday afternoon. (The dragon will be assembled at 3:30 for the 4:30 parade.) But Annette is still worried. She fears  a repeat of last Saturday. The weather forecast calls for breezy with snow and 29 degrees.

One Holiday Book Guide

 I like this guide because it includes one of my books, shameless, I know. But it is extensive, and may help your holiday shopping. Please buy them at your local independent bookstore. This season, support Main Street first. If you'd like a personalized copy of either of my books email the Babbling Book  store in Haines, at babblingbook@aptalaska.net  and Tom and Liz Heywood will make sure I do that asap. 

Gold Rush Alaska, A Local Review

The first episode of ten in the first TV series to be filmed in Haines  wasn't as bad as we had expected. Haines looked good,  and the only local guy in it, truck driver Donny Braaten, represented us well.   Last summer the Discovery Channel filmed the Hoffman family and friends from Sandy, Oregon attempting to gold mine in Haines, up near the former (and long gone) gold rush town of Porcupine, about thirty miles out the road from Main Street on the Porcupine River.

Sunday's Thought

So much to tell you about next week-- watching Gold Rush Alaska with friends and the Lighting of the Fort in the worst weather ever. The choir sang outside, knee deep in snow amidst torrential slush. But first, a little day of rest from my desk for me, and Sunday's Thought for you. It's from Mary Oliver's poem,  Where Does theTemple Begin, Where Does It End?

 

There are things you cannot reach. But you can reach out to them all day long.

The wind, the bird flying away. The idea of God.

Walking With Bears

The bear tracks were coming down the mountain and we were going up. They were frozen and had been left in the slush, my husband and I reckoned, two days before our hike. The way the light snow had fallen that day, and the timing of their walk, had preserved the round front pads and longer upside down pear-shaped rear paws, perfectly. When they stepped just right I could count each claw. They were longer than my mittens and wider than my boots. “It’s a good-sized brown bear,” my husband the bear hunter said.

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