Packing Panic Attack

Here's the news: no puppies yet for Windsor and Stikine, Debra and Anne Marie's Labs. Or at least not that I know of, but come to think of it neither Debra nor Anne Marie were at Morning Muscles. Maybe Stikine is giving birth as I write this. Debra did say last night that the vet is in town, and she told Anne Marie to take Stikine's temperature, if it dropped the puppies were on their way. When I was having my babies I'm pretty sure mine went up. Debra called, as I was packing for a trip.

Forte is a Star

My dog Forte is thinking about starting a facebook page after his Woman's Day column debut. It made sense that I wrote about my dog for the March issue, since in Alaska, March is Iditarod Sled Dog Race month when the whole state it seems, goes to the dogs. 

Forte, a happy "stick dog"  who wouldn't dream of pulling a sled around the block, much less all the way to Nome, enjoys a day at the beach recently.( And coming home again.)

Happy Life 101

 Last night I went to bed happy thanks to a terrific evening of funny, sweet skits (and desserts) by the high school debate drama and forensic team, the Glacier Bards, and my night table reading. I had been cleaning a bookshelf and found  Anna Quindlen's book, A Short Guide to a Happy Life, and read the whole thing before turning out the light. It is short, and there are pictures. I suspect it was actually a college graduation talk. That's the way it reads. It is a little preachy, but since it's my kind of preaching, I didn't mind.

Alaskans Gone Wild for Elvis and Pigs

I'm trying to decide which adventure I'd rather be on right now, Joanie and Sammy's pilgrimage to Graceland, (Sammy is a special needs adult and Joanie is a caregiving friend)  or my husband and Roger's wild boar hunt in California with John. (John is a Tlingit bear hunting guide who says he shot  a California pig once.  Chip and Roger never have hunted there.) I have a feeling both expeditions will return with stories of adventures that only Alaskans can have out in the wider world.

A Presbyterian Slip

 With the rain in mind, here is a timely typo (and nice sentiments) from the January Presbyterian church newsletter:

 

Keep on Living the Christmas Spirit

Seasonal greetings and kindness should just be starting. See someone who needs your help, a cheerful word, a surprise call, a plate of flood. Offer an arm to someone tip-toeing on ice. Wear creepers to be safe yourself. Thanks to all who sand the church parking lot and walks. God knows you.

 

 

 

A Heart for Winter

 The rain is raining all a round it rains on field tree, it rains on the umbrellas here and on the ships at sea. I was thinking of Robert Louis Stevenson's  verse this morning, listening to the hard rain on the roof and wishing it were snow. It's more than a little ironic that there is a record setting blizzard blowing across the Lower Forty-eight and we are in the middle of a serious thaw. There's no snow left  in my yard. Last night we walked to the sauna (from the house across the yard) in our bathrobes and Crocs on wet grass.

Sunday's Thought

 From a poem by Jane Kenyon called Let Evening Come:

To the bottle in the ditch, to the scoop

in the oats, to air in the lung 

let evening come.

Let it come, as it will, and don't

be afraid. God does not leave us

comfortless, so let evening come.

 

.

 

 

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