This morning I opened my email and found this note: “What type of tree is in the lower left foreground of the photo of Pearl that you posted on Oct 2 on Facebook?” [Mountain Ash.] Next came: “Heather, My husband Tom and I were in Skagway in Sept. when you were in Anchorage (our first ever trip to Alaska; we live near Buffalo, New York) and I picked up your first book, in a small shop there.
Pearl's backyard water dish was iced over this morning, and Joanie was scraping the ice off her car at the swimming pool after her earlybird swim. The plumbers are working to get the boiler running and the heat back on inside the Chilkat Center, and the Sticklers are replacing the roof above them. Fishing season is over, the firewood is stacked on the porch, and the spring chickens have just begun laying their eggs.
A friend called and said there had been a shooting early yesterday morning on Small Tracts Road, my regular dog trot loop around the neighborhood. Was there an angry gunman on the loose? A robber? A crazy person? Should I lock the door? My friend didn't know, and officially, no one did. There was no announcement on the radio and I couldn't find an alert or press release on the Borough or Police websites, the newspaper is closed Thursday, and the radio reporter was having no luck with official channels, either. It was just some crazy rumor. Maybe there wasn't a shooting.
Here's breaking news: There is a 10 dollar a plate gourmet cooking class prepared salmon and Caesar salad dinner tonight at 7:00 at the school, because the cross-country team is heading to Anchorage for the state championships and they need, as always, to raise the funds to get there, since the school district doesn't budget for post season competition, which requires traveling about 800 miles each way- by air or van-- , a hotel stay, and meals on the road.
Now that three seasoned outdoors folks have had to spend the night on a log in the middle of the Chilkat River after their skiff motor quit, then they were swept into a dead tree and it oveturned dumping them and its contents in the water and leaving them wet and cold all night until another moose hunter cruised by at what would have been breakfast time, I'm feeling pretty good about my bulky pants pockets. I have zip lock Baggies in two of them with chemical body and hand warmers, an energy bar, headlamp, space blanket, a knife, and a whistle. The bare minimum, I figure.