The bear was the size of my Subaru, at least, and eating dandelions on the side of the road. It would have been nice to slow down and look at her, except that Chip and I were on bicycles. Bears can run faster than I can ride even with my sympathetic nervous system doing the best it can to pump me full of adrenaline. I turned around and headed back toward the airport, where I could call for a lift home. But Chip clapped and yelled, "hey bear" and he, or maybe she, beat it off into the thick roadside brush.
Melba Cooper from South Carolina is in Haines as part of a month long artist's exchange, she has a great blog about her time here, with photos. (I've added it to the links as well.) There is an event tonight at 6:30 at HAL, where she will be talking about what she did here, and why art and place matter, along with her husband, historian Paul Cooper. At noon Weds.
The sun is out, my kids are home, and I'm leaving soon for all points south so, if you want to know more about Take Good Care of the Garden and the Dogs read this interview at The Alaska Dispatch. I'll write more, soon, I promise. But there are moose burgers to make, and the tide is high, and I'm tired from a long bike ride and cleaning out the greenhouse to make room for the tomato plants.
All five of my children are now safe in Haines. The two big girls, women really, already live here, but the three college kids are back. The house smells like bacon and eggs and the music is up loud. The shoes in the mud room have multiplied and there are guitars on the couch. It is all a kind of a noisy mess, and I am grateful for it. Tonight, I read from Garden and Dogs at the library. They have sold tickets and apparently there are only a handful left. Wow. This morning I had my annual mammogram in the mobile unit parked at the clinic.
There's plenty being written and spoken about the former governor, but I may be one of the few lucky people that know he began each day with a 'hip-hip-hooray.' In Alaska, and probably everywhere by now, Governor Walter Hickel may be best for remembered for his 'you can't just let nature run wild' observation.
Last year for Mother's Day my children sat me down and said they had a surprise, I was going to be a grandmother. I surprised them by asking which one was about to be a parent. At the the time my four daughters and one son were between 18 and 26. It seemed a reasonable question. They were shocked. Shocked! (I am so grateful it was the married one and that baby Caroline's parents are her main caregivers and I can be a regular grandmother. ) That was going to be a tough Mother's Day to top, I was so happy, and am still so happy to have that baby around.
At least now when people say I'm a Kumbaya singing why-can't-we-all-get-along softie, they will be right. I sang Kumbaya today at Haines Assisted Living with Liz and her guitar and the folks that live there. It's a nice song, really, once you get past the whole Kumbaya thing. Everybody knows it, from elders to toddlers. All together now, "Oh, Lord, Kumbaya."
We babysat Caroline Cooper last night, her dad calls her CC. We call our daughter Joanna Jeanne, JJ. This got me thinking of community nicknames. I think it is a Haines and Klukwan thing. Fireman Al, Alex the Shovel, Pizza Joe, Whoopie Sam, Leo the Logger. I wrote an obituary this week for a former pre-school teacher who moved away in 1986. Her family said that her Haines name, Teacher Toni, stuck throughout her career as a pre-school teacher. Just like Teacher Sandy in the Haines School kindergarten.
Went to John and Sharon Svenson's gallery opening Sunday and it was so artsy I felt like I was in New York City, only with more light and color. No one wore black, and there was no concrete, just lots of wood and windows and flashes of light off glass and silver. It smelled a little like smoked hooligan, too. Okay, so it wasn't like New York at all. It was like the best of Haines.
So, my elbow and arm and hand have been killing me. It hurts to pick up a can of tomatoes and to type. (I am an ergonomic nightmare- two fingers pecking hunched over a laptop too high on my desk...) Anyhow, at Morning Muscles I was explaining my symptoms and Gina said, "tennis elbow." I said I don't play tennis. Then Mary, who just returned from a winter in Micronesia said, "you have firewood elbow." I kind of knew that all the grabbing of chunks of wood with my right hand had irritated it. I have been moving the wood from the shed to the wheelbarrow to the porch to the stove for months.