We are turning Halloween into a week long event this year-- starting tonight with the Trick or Trot 5k fun run and walk at 5:30 in Dalton City, no matter what the weather. (A headlamp is a good idea.) There will be a fire pit, hot drinks, and prizes for the best costumes (which you trot around town and through the Fort in ...) If you are over 17, a 10 dollar entry fee goes to the Well & Fit crew, under 17 are free.
Well, there will be plenty to talk about over coffee for a few days, maybe longer, now that hunting guide and fisherman Ron Martin has admitted to, and been sentenced for, five hunting related felonies involving area bears and goats. He can't guide again and won't be getting his plane back, either. Listen to the local story on KHNS, or read what the Alaska Dispatch writes.
If you have a fur hat, put it on. Then check the bindings on your snowshoes. The first snow of the season is falling on Mt. Ripinsky, from the summit right on down the flanks-- perhaps all the way to the microwave tower, it's hard to tell from the sea-level windy wet perspective of a morning dog walk. I would have snapped a picture, but the camera lens fogged up.
That's how it always works, isn't it? The minute you comment on the fine weather, it changes. We had the first frost last night, which meant I had to scrape the windshield this morning before Morning Muscles, but the stars and moon were still out and there were no bears in sight, although something kept the dogs in town barking all night, if my fellow exercisers are a fair sampling. The nip in the wind today makes me feel much better than I have in months.
We finally put the garden mostly to bed and installed the snow-breaks and stacked the firewood on the porch. I mean it's the end of October and time to be done with it, whether the window boxes are ready or not, right? Sort of. I kept the front box filled for now. We haven't even had a frost. Also, the kale and chard are still edible, so that bed will stay until they are gone or freeze, whichever comes first.
Vincent van Gogh wrote, in a letter to his brother, "I have a terrible need of-- shall I say the word?-- Religion. Then I go out and paint the stars." (And in my humble case, walk the dog.)
On birthdays when they were young I'd tell my children the story of their arrival. Eliza's will always be that she is the first and thus the most miraculous, plus the TV repairman arrived in the Anchorage hospital room right at the height of that first shocking labor. Sarah's story includes the record breaking blizzard and is set in the Haines clinic with Dr. Feldman attending in his boots.
Have you noticed that I seem to show up here every Tuesday lately? Honestly, I promise that I'm getting it together and from now on will send you pithy, brilliant, and informative daily news of life in Haines, or if not all that, at least something interesting about life as I know it on most days, now that mine are settling into a pattern. I have even made a schedule for myself and writing this is in it every day except Saturday. (I am returning to the Sunday's Thought feature, too.) I've been a little loose. Okay, a lot loose. I apologize.