JJ is up talking to her dad, and I hear him making a fire now, and since I don’t want to miss anything, she and Stoli and Eliza all leave on the afternoon ferry, I’ll be quick about sharing something I think is worth thinking about, and since it is Sunday, praying about. Dianne Nelson, the one who won the Friends of the Library raffle, twice, told me that in addition to the gift certificate from our store, Lutak Lumber, she won the case of canned salmon from Haines Packing Co.
Kendra and Alex didn't name him Goode Knight-- he's Evan Alexander Knight, and was born Oct. 15 at 7:23 in Bartlett Hospital with Dr. "call me Dorothy" Hernandez attending-- she's the same physician who delivered my granddaughter Caroline nine months ago. Kendra was at that birth too, and let's just say she was inspired. (You do the math, it's not that hard.) It will be easy to remember how far apart in age Evan and Caroline are, and lucky us that they will be growing up together in Haines. Dr.
My poor husband was up for hours before anyone rousted themselves out of bed. "We college girls need some sleep," JJ announced as she came down in her PJs. It was not that late-- about 8, but Chip had been up since 5, waiting for them. (Stoli is still sleeping, but at least she has two dogs on her bed, so she's doing us all a big favor.) Also, as soon as JJ got downstairs the local radio went off and an Austin Powers DVD went in. "College girls need some laughs." JJ said as she dropped onto the couch, adding that she never appreciated a soft sofa until dorm life.
I didn't win the load of gravel for my driveway in the Friends of the Library raffle. Gary A. did. (Barb sold the ticket, and says she knows which Gary A. that is.) There were 35 prizes and I didn't win any. Before the drawing Friends board member Art Jess wrote a check for a pack of tickets ( 5 dollars each, or 3 for 12) and when Friends President Sara Chapell said she'd put the stubs in the waste basket they were keeping them in, he said not to bother, he didn't buy them to win, but to support the library. Which, of course, is true, but it would have been nice to get a little prize.
A big excavator knocked down the years vacant Primary School yesterday in all that rainy wind. The building wasn't much, and should have been torn down long ago. I do remember a few heavy snowfalls that made the flat roof sag. The small, brown painted plywood school was built as temporary classrooms during the timber heyday, and used for the next thirty years for Kindergarten, first and second graders, and I think, for a few years, third graders, was greater than the sum of its lowly parts. It was not the kind of schoolhouse you would want a picture of on the wall, or even the fridge.
In Yoga class yesterday Nancy, our teacher, read from the wisdom of a Yogi who said we need to find inspiration in the ordinary, and that the way to do that is breathe and clear our minds. We laid back on blankets with eye pillows on. There are about fifteen woman and one man in the class. He is filming the fake miners at the gold mine up the road. He told the botanist from Britain who is studying the butter and egg plants near my beach, all about it. I couldn't help overhear while I was clearing my mind and breathing. He said the show is like the Deadliest Catch, only at a gold mine.
You can tell Tom was a little shorthanded at the paper last week because he ran this rather long interview with me about the cross-country team which I coached, but you might find it interesting. The new CVN reporter has arrived, and she is a terrific young reporter and writer-- a journalism major from Northwestern.
I pretended that Thursday and Friday were the weekend this week, and did all those chores I haven't done on the weekends I've been traveling with the cross country team-- and before that having knee surgery, and before that all the book tour and summer residency for my MFA. Men don't understand that women like to have everything in order before we play. Chip keeps saying he doesn't mind whenever one of the spice jars crashes to the counter from the stuffed cabinet, but I kind of do. In all, I've been gone at least half of every month since April.
The sky was just getting light when I walked home from Morning Muscles at seven. Up by Fort Seward I heard a jingling, and then saw a small flashing red light. As they both came closer I saw the light was on a dog collar and the bear bells were on the owner's coat. "Hi Heather" she said, and kept walking down toward the beach. The ground was scattered with yellow birch and cottonwood leaves, gulls called and a raven chortled. The trucks working on the new dock warmed up and rumbled. It was quieter on the back side of town, coming over Cemetery Hill to the Chilkat River.
I do apologize for not telling you all about our trip to Anchorage and back with the cross-country team. We left at 7am Thursday morning and made it to Glenallen by about 10:30pm where we spent the night, and then drove on down to Anchorage Friday, arriving about noon. (We did manage to make the wrong turn after supper at Fast Eddie's in Tok and drove about forty miles toward Fairbanks before we realized our error. That interior spruce forest looks the same everywhere.