A Power Outage Made Me Rethink My Midwest Life

 When I first moved to Iowa just over 4 years ago, I thought a lot about the probable pros and cons of leaving Alaska.

Pros:

• Not being so isolated from family in the Lower 48.
• Being able to take day trips to other states and climates.
• Cheaper costs of rent, shopping, groceries.

• More stores choices.
• Shippers not treating (or charging) me as if they had to hire wagon trains to deliver goods to my home.
• Wider proximity away from crime-addled areas.
• Having more seasons than those of "mostly light all the time" and "mostly dark all the time" or "Winter", "Almost Winter", "20 Days of Summer".
• Roads without potholes the size of my car.
• No more cottonwood allergies or running from mosquitos big enough to carry off small children and pets.
• Being able to go comfortably sleeveless for more than 30 days of the year.

Cons:

• Being away from my niece still living in Alaska.
• Not being surrounded by the natural beauty of Alaska.
• Missing the friendly people.
• Not being "just down the way" from almost everything and everyone.
• Not being able to make store runs 1 in the morning in the full light of the "midnight sun".
• No more weekends sitting around a fire pit with family and friends all night, talking about why I don't fish, hunt, ski or pick berries - but like having the choices.
• Not being 6 degrees of knowing almost everyone in every store or supermarket.
• Just not being in the place I've called home for almost all of my life.
• The possibility of seeing insects and critters I don't like. I'm used to seeing a moose on the loose. I can handle some small bugs, but I will move house the first time I see a snake.

In reality, I have realized things after making the move that I never expected.

• How I miss the sweet, clear water-from-the-faucet of Anchorage. The tap water here is so awful that I have to budget for buying or filtering it. I won't even water my plants with what comes out of the tap.
• It's so hard to find affordable and not-farmed fish and seafood here. I never knew how much I loved salmon, trout, and crab until I couldn't afford it without taking out a personal loan.
• Worse than with the seafood, I miss the variety of dining. I have not seen an Indian, Japanese, or Thai restaurant within a 15-mile radius of my home. There is a Chinese restaurant that everyone raves about but only because they have never had food from Golden Gate. My best choice is to go to the Panda Express in the town next door. 
• In fact, there is very little racial diversity. I have not found my New Sagaya, Stop and Shop Asain Market, Korean or Indian Grocery, or Mountain View Red Apple Grocery. And no Natural Pantry for my hippie food moods. Thank goodness Walmart carries collard greens and smoked neckbones at least.
• My family can buy tickets for me to visit them for less than the cost and time of shipping furniture to Alaska. On the other hand...
• ... Getting to and from the airport can involve a road trip and a possible overnight stay at a motel.
• Midwest people are so friendly, I think they would be Alaskans in another life.
• I do love my small-town life. The calm and quiet make up for most of what I miss about Alaska. Not all, but most.

So why am I about to whine? Well, with all the thought I put into being able to enjoy actual seasons, I forgot about one thing: the storms.

Oh, yes, Dorothy. We aren't in Kansas but we are close enough.

My SIL was laughing at the time but...

I took that photo a couple of years ago when my Arizona family was visiting. My SIL thought it was funny and I assured her that I had not yet ever had a tornado scare. And I hadn't. Not then. But last night...

When the tornado devastated parts of Kentucky recently, I prayed for the people. But I wasn't thinking that Kentucky is just 11 hours from here. So, basically, we are storm neighbors. Maybe?

Last night about 6 or 6:30, I heard a faint siren. Didn't think anything of it. I was just finishing dinner in front of the TV and waiting for the next Netflix episode of "Supergirl" to run. Then my phone made that nerve-jangling noise that happens for Amber alerts and... storm alerts. Now that siren made sense.

Thankfully, I had not taken my weekly meds yet so I wasn't feeling sick. I was also having a decent brain day so I was fairly lucid. I went into preparation mode and started getting ready for a power outage. We have those quite often here.

I plugged in my cellphone to charge up. I also started charging my phone's backup battery case and my laptop. And I started downloading some "Supergirl" episodes onto my Netflix desktop app.  Because, you know, I was in the middle of a binge. (Thank you, Arizona niece for giving me a Netflix sub!)

Being here in Iowa for less than 5 years and I've experienced enough outages to know what to expect of a regular storm. 

I turned my fridge up to get it as cold as possible and I made and bagged up some PB&J sandwiches to keep on the counter. I set out my little flashlight on the counter, turned up the thermostat, checked my bottled water supply, and made a pot of coffee to put in a thermos.

By the time the power did go down an hour later, I was set for the evening. Normally the power outages last about 3 to 4 hours here - maybe 5. The apartment has a backup to keep the hallway lights on and we always have heat in the common areas.  My neighbors treat outages as a chance to get together in the common rooms and chitter-chatter.

Half an hour into the outage, I could hear my neighbors congregating in the hallway. That was new. Generally, they stay up front in the lounge area... ~shrug~ 

I heard them talking and laughing and passing snacks around. I propped my front door open a bit to let in some light and hunkered down in my bed with the computer and Netflix. With my laptop in battery-saver mode, I could get in at least two hours of "Supergirl" before I had to shut it down and have some power left for later.

An hour later, the neighbors quieted down. I guessed they had gone back into their apartments. An hour after that, I turned off the computer and waited for the power to come back on. 

At about a quarter to nine, one of my neighbors called into my door asking if I was alright. I called back that I was and she said to make sure to come into the hallway if I heard the siren again. I called "Okay" then sat up in bed.

Wait. What?

I ran out and asked what she meant. She said that the safest place to be in our building during a possible tornado was the hallway. Not only was it the most reinforced part of the building, but it would be faster from there to the shelters down the street.

What?

Yeah. The older neighbors living on the upper floors of the building were being helped downstairs by others (the elevator was out with the power), just in case.

What, Dorothy?!?!?

I went back into my apartment and started putting together a go-bag faster than the feds on "Criminal Minds".  I put in my laptop, phone and chargers, my wallet, and my medicine kit in my backpack. I added the only cash I had on hand -10 dollars in quarters for laundry - some bottled water and the sandwiches. I put the backpack by the door with my coat. I put on some shoes and went to help with getting people down the stairs. Then I went into my apartment and sat on my bed, praying for everyone and waiting for the end of the world.

Get yours here

Okay, so I might have overreacted. 

The storm quickly subsided enough that the word went around the building that we could relax. The power was being worked on and some neighboring buildings had lights working.

I didn't relax though. I got busy using the light from the hallway to write out a list of things I need to have ready for the next storm a better flashlight, another battery backup for my phone, and one for my laptop. A permanent go-bag with some cash and extra meds.  I called my brother (who had been trying to call me) and let him know I was okay. They live less than 20 miles away and their weather was way calmer - no outages or warnings. He was in his garage, smoking some meats. He wanted to come and get me but I pretended to be brave and said I'd call if I needed him.

When something like that happens, you start thinking about just how unprepared you are. I couldn't help thinking about things like how did I have enough meds and syringes on hand in case of a long-term emergency. And what would I want to take with me if I could only carry a backpack at the last minute?

I finally managed to calm down enough to lay down in bed (fully clothed and shoes on) and wait for the power in our building to come back on. I woke up to the ceiling light shining down on me. It was 1 in the morning and the building was very quiet. 

After thanking God for getting us all safely through the storm. I went straight online to order a flashlight, another phone backup charger, and to look for an affordable charger for my laptop. 

I found most of what I needed. I will have to cut back on food and any extras for the next couple of months, but I should be better prepared for the next outage.

Now that I am finished ranting, I want to tell you that I will be reviewing the lights and phone backups at a later time.

Peace

--Free

The Great Alcan Adventure: The Slow Goodbye

Okay. So I checked and saw that I left off last time telling you all about the snowfall that hit on the day before we were set to drive out of Anchorage.

I have to pause to tell you a little side story about me and that damned Subaru.

Not only were we leaving my brother and the SIL, but we were also leaving their newborn - my then newest niece. She had been born small and had issues with her esophagus. Something about it needing more time to fully develop. My mom, sister and I hated that we were going to miss her first months of life. Then - just before we were due to leave - we had a little family scare. We thought it was a big emergency but it turned out to be a little one.

On my last Friday at work, there had been a going-away celebration for me. I really loved the people I worked with and (as you will see later) they kind of loved me too. Because of the party, I got home about an hour later than usual. This was great because I'd missed the normal traffic and I was a lot more relaxed once I got home. That's such a good thing because my nerves got a great workout about an hour later.

Since most of our belongings had already been shipped off to Arizona, we were living like campers. The kids thought it was great and we all were having a nice bonding experience. All we had were pallets to sleep on, food and beverages in coolers, and the house phone that was going to be turned off on Monday. What a blessing it was that we had left it on because it rang while we were getting the kids washed up after dinner.

I don't remember now which one of my brother's kids called but they were pretty frantic, telling me to get there. I could hear my SIL in the background just freaking the hell out. All I could make out from the call was that something was wrong with "the baby". I yelled for them to call 9-1-1 right now. (Tells you something about our family dynamic that the kids called us first instead of emergency services.)

And then this is where I relayed to my mom and sister that we had to get to my brother's house right now. I think all they probably got from me was that something was wrong with the baby.

Now, here comes a lesson in the way the human brain works.

My mom, sister, and I leave my teen niece with the twins and run for the car. I have ZERO ideas about how I was the one who ended up in the driver's seat - may be just because I had stupidly grabbed the keys???

Listen, I jumped behind the wheel, started the car and drove like a maniac all the way from the Northwest side of town where we lived to South Anchorage where my brother and his family lived. The three of us jumped out of the car and ran inside to see that... the baby was now fine. Apparently, she'd had some baby slobber slide back down her throat the wrong way. The doctors had warned her mom and dad that it could happen. They'd also told them not to panic when it did. There were ways to hold the baby that would clear the passage - WHILE SOMEONE CALLED 9-1-1. I remember that that had been the most important part of the instructions.

We were all so relieved that my niece was okay that we didn't give her mom much of a hard time about calling us instead of the ambulance. She thanked us for getting there so fast. And then it hit all of us at the same time. Everybody looked around at me in amazement.

My mother would always tell this story later and remind everyone that "my baby drove the hell out of that car."

I never did drive a stick shift as smoothly as I did that day. As a matter of fact, my sister ended up driving us back home that night. Isn't the human mind a strange thing?

Anyway, back to the main story.

The drive down the Alcan started off kind of rough. I was really worried about that snow. My sister and I had just gotten the hang of driving our new (old) stick shift car on dry ground. Okay, let me quit lying. My sister had gotten the hang of it. I was just managing not to hurt myself while driving that Subaru.

Everyone hated when it was my turn behind the wheel. It wasn't that my driving was that bad, but I had to have complete silence. When my sister was driving, conversations could be held, music could be played, the kids could sing silly little songs. I, on the other hand, could not handle distractions of any kind. One of the things I hated about that car was that I couldn't listen to the radio while I drove. I'm too easily, well distracted. If there is a conversation, I must be a part of it. If the kids sing, I find it too adorable not to join in. But music is the worst for me. I am the person that cannot help dancing a little even if I just hear a catchy product jingle. So, as soon as I took the wheel, the twins took a nap, my older niece pulled out a book, and my mom and sister shut down like they'd been unplugged.

Whatever.

Anyway, we got to Whitehorse and spent the night, thinking that we would stop every few days, long enough for mom to stretch out and get some rest in a bed. Well, we got about 60 miles (I'm just guessing) out of Whitehorse when the craziest thing happened. The entire chassis dropped from underneath the car.

Thankfully, my sister was driving when it happened and she had felt a slight shaking just in time to pull off to the side of the road before CLUNK. Yeah. I didn't even know that was a thing that could happen - to drop the whole bottom of the car. It happened.

My niece and I had to hike back towards a closed-for-the-season campground we'd seen. I don't know how far back. It might only have been maybe three miles, but in my memories right now, it seems like it could have been ten miles.

We hopped the fence of the campground, hoping that there might be payphones. It turned out that there were caretakers living on site. They only spoke German. I knew 2 German words: bitte and Guttentag. However, I was fluent in charades. They called for a tow truck and a second vehicle to carry our family. At least I was able to say "thank you" in their native tongue.

We spent a couple of days in the same Whitehorse motel we'd just checked out of while mechanics figured out that the car was (and I am serious here) repairable. They said that some bolts had vibrated loose but they had soldered them.

Of course, I had called the brothers and discussed the situation. We had options of buying a car in Canada or getting on a plane. One of the brothers was insisting that he should fly into Canada and drive us the rest of the way in a different car.

If my mother didn't believe in the power of prayer (and if we didn't trust her belief), we would have either been digging into our budget for another car or plane tickets. But we Conway chicks were tough and we didn't want the boys in the family to forget that. We decided to keep driving in the Subaru.

There is a reason you see a lot of rusted out Subarus on the roads in Alaska. Believe this or not but we had no more trouble with ours (and, as a matter of fact, we gave that car to Arizona friends who might still be driving it to this day.)

We really didn't have to worry anymore about the Subaru breaking down. We did, however, almost slide her off the edge of a cliff. I can't even remember where we were in Canada when that happened but I remember that it was pitch-black nighttime. I also know that it's a good thing my cool-headed sister was driving and not me. And that there was only the slightest bit of slick snow on that part of the road.

What had happened was, we had started up one of those steep inclines that curved. We were steering around the curve just as we were getting to where the incline was about to level out. There was no guardrail to the driver's side of the road where there was a deep drop - which I why I used the word "cliff". On the passenger side was a slight ditch. In that ditch is where we saw the headlights of an upside down car.

We were startled and my sister's first thought was that people might be hurt. She slowed down enough to glance over but then our car started to slide just a little.

If we had been in an automatic transmission, my sister would have instinctively known how to turn with the slide and get some traction. Being in this new (to us) stickshift, she panicked a little and we were just... sliding.

I have no idea how she got hold of herself long enough to think, but she did. Somehow, she got traction and the Subaru whined a little and then the wheels caught and we made it the rest of the way up the incline. All of this happened within the space of maybe four or five seconds. A very long four or five seconds.

Have you ever caught your breath and forgot to breathe again? I think that's what happened to all of us. I know it's what happened to me because I was about to faint before I remembered to take a breath. My mother was the only one who just sat there, arms crossed under her breasts, eyes closed and (I'm sure) praying. When we made it up that hill, she just said, "Oh, thank you, Jesus. Thank you, Lord."

We were still really worried that someone might have been seriously injured in that other car. I mean, how the hell had it flipped like that? I was trying to remember if the wheels had still been spinning.

Just maybe a mile up the road, we saw a little shack-like motel or inn that had a light on. We stopped there and my sister and I went in to see about calling for some kind of emergency service or something. Guess what? The people at the desk told us that they knew about the wreck. The driver and passenger were okay and had been driving drunk.

I was pissed. Why the hell hadn't the drunken fools turned off their headlights? Why had they been driving drunk on such a bad stretch of road? (Not that anyone should drive drunk on a good stretch of road, but...) And, by the way, who the hell did you call if you got hurt out here in the middle of nowhere?

When we reported back to my mom, I was still really mad. Then she pointed out something I had thought about. Wasn't it a blessing that we hadn't been in the wrong spot when that car was careening around on a dark mountain road?

Okay. Score one for Mom.

The rest of the trip through the Yukon and into British Columbia wasn't too bad. There was that one long stretch between Watson Lake and (I think) Ft. Nelson that will make you happy to have a gas can. A lot of smaller stations and businesses shut down for the winter season so fuel stops have to be timed really well.

And then there was the time I was driving one morning and made the entire commuting population of a town hate me.

I can't remember the exact place but I was driving out of one little community and toward another one that was maybe 10 miles ahead. And because it was really early and still dark, I wasn't driving so much as I was creeping like an octogenarian with bad eyesight. I think I was going maybe 35. In my defense I was tired and the road was all gravelly and rutted. In addition to all that, there were all these blinding headlights behind me. At least it was quiet because everyone else in the car was asleep. Until my mother woke up.

She looked back at the lights behind us and asked, "What's happening?"

Happening? I had no idea what she meant. My sister had woken up now and she looked back at the lights behind us. She commented that it looked like we were leading a funeral procession.

Apparently, I might have been slowing up the morning work commute for some folks. And this time there was no nice lady riding behind me with her flashers on...

As soon as the little gravel road turned into a two-lane street, I couldn't even get over into the slow lane before cars beat me to it and started zooming past.

You know that stereotype about Canadians being some of the nicest people ever (I see you, Keanu). Well. They weren't very nice to me that morning. As a matter of fact, I've driven my bougie ass through gang territory in Oakland that had friendlier people. Shit.

There's really not much else to tell you about that drive. We didn't run into very much snow, thank God. Unlike back in the early seventies, most of the Alcan was paved - or at least not hobbled together with gravel and mud. The Alcan is an incredibly beautiful experience. I highly recommend it as a bucket list item. Kids will see so much natural beauty that they won't mind being in a car for days and days. I, however, have done that drive more than enough times and the only way I would ever do it again is if I was madly in love and the object of my affection wanted to drive it. And I do mean he'd have to be ready to do the whole damn drive!

Fun fact: One of my Iowan neighbors actually helped build the Alcan. When he found out I had moved here from Alaska, he was pretty psyched. He actually wrote a book about the Alcan.

The best thing is, when you are driving the Alcan out of Alaska, it gives you a chance to do a slow goodbye. It's like getting that last sweet and lingering kiss from a lover. I want all my goodbyes to be as beautiful. To this day, I miss some things about Alaska. Most of the family memories I have were made in that place.

The people of Alaska are a big part of the state's beauty, More and more lately, that is fading. Back then though, people who moved there became infected with the friendliness and laid-back attitude that is being Alaskan. The company I worked for there had come up to expand on their hubs in Portland, San Francisco, and Memphis. After just months of the transplanted employees being around us Alaskans, they fit in perfectly. As a matter of fact, I didn't last long in Arizona that time around (another story for later maybe) and ended up going back to the same employer after less than a year and a half. The company was one that I was associated with for a lot more years. Some of the people who moved to Alaska to work with that company stayed after the business was sold and incorporated into what is now FedEx Trade Networks.

Just to make you understand why people love Alaska the way they do (if they do) is to show it to you. It's a gorgeous place. And it's one of those places where you don't have to be rich to enjoy the loveliness. Even with the unzoned, unmatched architecture of Anchorage, you can ignore the manmade ugliness just by looking up at the mountains. Just a ten-minute drive out of Anchorage in any direction and you are in the middle of postcard territory. Seriously. Let me share just a little bit of the view.

This is Beluga Point - just about a 5-minute drive heading out on the Seward Highway.

I'm a horrible photographer and even my bad shot can't kill the beauty in that pic. I took the next one a few years ago just holding the camera out of the car window.

My niece - who still lives in Anchorage (and is a much better photog) took these recently to post on her Instagram:

While out walking her dogs

Just on a drive somewhere in town

 And this beauty right here. I think my niece was on her way back from a fishing trip. Tell me this isn't postcard-worthy. (And don't steal the photo like I did.)

I think you get the idea. Basically, you can live in the poorest, most run-down and depressing part of town and still be just a glance up or a short drive away from magnificence.

That beauty was one of the reasons I was sad to be leaving Alaska. That and having to drive that damned car.

Peace
--Free

Out of Seasonal Sync

It's mid-late October and I'm just amazed by the weather in my new hometown. The evening temps have been in the high 40's while it's gotten up to 60 during midday. For a chick coming down from Alaska, this is just crazy.

I thought this great weather might be a fluke because, well, weather all over the world seems to be fluking out lately.

The other day, one of my neighbors asked when I would be getting a car and if I would be joining the Plow Club. Plow Club? Apparently, there is a guy who comes around to plow the parking lot during the winter. He not only does the plowing, but he cleans off the tenants' cars. And all that service is for a very reasonable price each time. I asked how many times a year the service is needed and was told, "Oh, maybe 3, sometimes 4, times." What??? Back in Alaska, we'd need that dude to just park his plow in the driveway for an every morning clean up.

Of course, I don't want to get too happy about having milder weather. It will be my luck that this is the year everyone will remember as the one when we got freak snowstorms every day.

Like I tell people here, I don't mind winter. I've done over 40 of them in Alaska. What I mind is a never-ending winter. The 4 seasons in Alaska were: Winter, Snow Breakup, Great Summer, End of Summer. Right now, I'm still able to take my trash out in the mornings without the cold making my nose run. Yesterday, I forgot to empty the garbage in the morning and some thrown out food started to smell. I made a midnight run out to the dumpster in my PJs and no jacket. I couldn't believe the mild temps. I actually stood outside for a few minutes to look up at the night sky. Wow.

Now, I haven't been taking many photos lately because I've been a little sick, but here's a shot I got yesterday while out looking for used cars.

That tree was dazzling

 This one is from around a week ago. It's out back of the building where the trash dumpsters are.

Probably taken mid-day

Nevertheless, I did make sure to get a nice winter coat and some boots for the winter. Since the weather will be (hopefully) seasonal and mild, I think I might not get as depressed as I usually do during the winter months. I still have my cheap little SAD light out, just in case!

Peace
--Free

Moving Means More Than Goodbye

                                                         
As I get ready to leave Alaska (no, really, this time I mean it!), I have been thinking what that means. 

I'm not just moving away from a place. I'm moving away from a routine. I am shedding and leaving behind places that evoke strong memories. I still can't drive past Lucky Wishbone Restaraunt without thinking of both my mother and sister. One day, I drove past a certain park and remembered a long-ago birthday party we threw there for one of the kids and I had to pull over because I started sobbing.

Leaving Anchorage means that I won't wake up and see myself surrounded by the mountain ranges. It means no more summers with 18 hours of sunlight. I'm not going to see moose just randomly strolling through the front yard. Leaving here means leaving behind the doctors and staff who saved my life and got me through these years of this disease. I'll miss those people so much. I will even miss the familiar faces of the clerks at the local Walmart and Carrs-Safeway. I will miss the way the air smells on a cool morning.


It's not just the people either. Leaving here means leaving sights and sounds and landmarks that I've known from the time I was about 7 years old.

Today, I sold my little travel trailer and, silly as it sounds, I was just so happy that the lady who bought it really appreciates it. Her face was lit up with joy like mine was when I got the trailer. I could see that she was making plans for how to use it and decorate it and fix it up. Although selling the trailer makes me so very sad, I was happy that it went to this wonderful person.

I'm going to be selling my car. I'll miss that car! It's going to be another familiar thing that I'm leaving behind. It's the last car that I will remember driving with my sister in the passenger seat.

The other day, my niece and I were talking and I told her that I hate change. It's true, too. I like having a familiar routine. I like knowing where my favorite places are to shop. I like knowing at least three different routes to get to the store or hospital or to a restaurant. I like knowing the weather patterns and the best and worst roads to travel on when it's snowing or raining.

So, yeah, leaving a place means more than saying goodbye to people you love. Leaving means starting over.

And yet...

                                            

I'm looking forward to being close to new people and places. Before long, I will have a new favorite place to get my clothes and food. I will learn the faces and names of my doctors and their staff.

                                                              

Before long, I won't just be familiar with a new place and new routines. I'll be calling another place "home".

Peace
--Free

Why Leave NOW???

I'm getting packed for the sibling reunion in AZ & when I looked outside a couple hours ago, this is what I saw:

That's not ice rain or melting snow. That right there is a summer kind of rain shower...

 When I got up this morning, it was because it was too hot to sleep. I was throwing the window up and angling the fan right at my spot in the bed.... It's NOVEMBER. Seriously, Nature?

I'm not complaining. There are so many things I dislike about winter:

1. Cold weather
2. Snow
3. Ice
4. Crazy, reckless drivers
5. Cold weather
6. Snow...

I put the cold weather and snow twice because they are the two things that make me hate winter AND mornings. If the car is parked outside, I have to go and shovel it out, shovel it off, defrost the windows, and warm the interior. It's a good twenty-minute job sometimes. 

But not this winter (yet)!

This morning, I stepped out to prep the car and almost fell on my butt. Not because it was icy, but because it was so warm my body went into shock. I didn't even bother to warm up the car. No need wasting gas on that, right?

It was 41 degrees when I took this photo. In NOVEMBER. In Alaska.

If you think I'm complaining, I am - but not about the weather. My thing is, we are leaving tonight for the sibling reunion in Arizona. So... we maybe should have planned that for January? When the weather might actually be more Alaska-like?

Peace

--Free

Rambles

(Let's face it, I have nothing else to post about until I get my reviews going again! So... Welcome to a ramble of my thoughts.)

I woke up this morning feeling so good for the first time in such a long time. Funny enough, I had trouble recognizing the way I felt.

The coming of fall season matches the way I feel: a shedding and preparation for renewal. With that in mind, here are my random rambles for the morning:

• If you want a positive life, you must embrace as much good stuff as you can (and let go of the negative). Even when the negative thought of hitting someone below the belt sounds positive. 
• I've spent the past year or more shedding bad habits and bad relationships. And weight. Let's not forget the pounds I've shed. Mostly my own, but...
• I want to grow a garden. I once killed a cactus. I still want to try gardening.
• It's so adorable when Baby DJ calls me "Boo-Boo". Except when it's late and I'm exhausted. It's still kind of cute when he says it again but in a really sweet whisper because he senses I'm getting tired of it. I never get tired of that.
• I'm going to miss going to sleep with sun in my eyes. Unless this "vacation" out of state convinces me to RUN! Run right back to Alaska!
• One of the reasons I stayed off Facebook for so long might have to do with the games. Now that I'm on there (ahem, just for posting reviews...), I have spent too much time manipulating exploding cookies and gems and bubbles. 
• My new dietary habits have finally stuck. I didn't have my usual servings of water and fruits & veggies yesterday and I could tell by the time I went to bed. 
• Coming up with ideas for blog posts is touch when you get out the groove. Pictures help jazz up the duller posts. Pictures help a lot.

Want this t-shirt

But I'm NOT from Fairbanks

I wonder if my Texas fam would mind?

Peace
--Free

**Quickie Post** Valley Radio News (Shocking. Not.)

This station bills itself as Mat-Su Valley's first news talk station.

1. The Valley has a rep here in Anchorage.
2. This station just added some negative juice to the rep.
3. Maybe I'm being touchy, but: my blog, my views.  I don't have a radio presence.

Never listened to this station before. Only listened by accident earlier today because I bumped the radio knob while plugging in my phone charger.

I tuned in just as the hosts were doing something called the "Hip Hop Review" segment. Apparently, they feel that parents need info on who and what their kids are listening to as far as music. Today the discussion was a highlight of news of some court-bound rappers. I agreed with what they had to say. I was a little put off by how they said it: mimicking the speech and speech patterns/slang of what they think rappers sound like.

Now, I am the biggest anti-thug, anti-violence person in my circle. I literally preach to the young people in my life about the madness of most "thug" music.

So, what's my problem with this segment that I heard? Not much. I'm just wondering if they have a segment on other types of music/artists who are such bad role models for kids. I won't be tuning back in to find out. I won't be tuning back in to that station. Ever.

Like I said, I don't have a radio presence. If I did, I wouldn't dare generalize the Mat-Su residents with the common stereotypes assigned to them. I know that they are not all pot-smoking/growing/dealing, wild-eyed nutcases, "trailer trash", lunatic fringe of the frozen North. I know that, but someone hearing a radio show that talks that talk might not know that.

Peace
--Free

Open Letter to Online Retailers

To whomever it does concern:

I think I am speaking on behalf of the many (potential) customers who live in the United States. We don't live in some place accessible only by dogsled or courier dolphins. We live in areas that receive mail via the U.S. Postal service on each and every delivery day. I'm talking about residents of Alaska and Hawaii.

I question why I (and others) must pay the most outrageous shipping and handling costs whenever we order things from your sites. What's your reason for this? Does it cost more for packaging that must endure the alien airspace over Alaska and Hawaii? Do the folks "handling" those products bound for our areas have to wear special clothes during the shipping and handling process?

If you think I am just complaining to complain, I promise you that I am not. For examples of what I face in shipping costs when ordering from your site (and others), I have examples.

Amazon's Standard shipping to L48 compared to same for Alaska & Hawaii:

Ex: $3.99 for L48

and $7.99 for U2

And good old Overstock.com just blows their whole "free shipping" lure when it comes to Alaska & Hawaii... (That may be a good thing, because, otherwise, I'd shop them out of business!)

SMH

Is it just me, or do they seem almost gleeful about it?

I've already had my rant about Miss Jessie's shipping charges. Miss Trudy is like Amy Winehouse on this: "I say no, no, no..."

~sigh~

I understand that we are not "connected" to the Lower 48 states. What I don't understand is why when I mail a letter to someone in those lower states, who are not connected to us, I pay the same amount of postage in the form of a stamp. Wonder why the Postal Service doesn't add another dollar or two to stamps sold to us?

Maybe I am being unfair. Perhaps it is more expensive for you guys to ship things to those of us living in the Upper 2. Perhaps, but I doubt that it's as expensive as what we must assume from your shipping charges.

I was taught by my parents not to complain about something unless I had at least an idea for a possible solution. Here is my proposal to you guys:

When shipping to Alaska - and let's use the bottle of face cream I once ordered from you - how about you calculate what the cheap little bubble-wrap mailer cost you. (I'm pretty sure you get a discount on those since you must order them in bulk. I can get about 25 of them at Costco - way up here in Alaska-land - for around  $28 - and that's without a business account.) After you figure in the cost of the mailer, maybe you could use a postage-meter to weight the package to come up with a price for postage. Go ahead an tack on a your 'handling' charge (the same as you charge for 'handling' mail to the Lower 48 folk), then mail the dang thing to me. I don't think that would come to the prices I have been expected to pay in this instance, or another. What rule says that you guys just have to use the most expensive shipping service? You can't find ways to be more accommodating to the people who really do want to buy your products?

I bet if I get my hands on your product without having to take out a small loan, my satisfaction (or lack of) will be based solely on that product. Who knows, I might even try out your other products. I might even tell my friends why they should try them out. Just imagine.

What if you don't want to alter your shipping methods to accomodate your potential customers in the other 2 states (722,718 in Alaska; 1.4 million in Hawaii), which I will call the "Upper 2"!

Hmm... I have another idea:

I don't know if you realize it or not, but we actually have stores here - Target and Walmart and Walgreen - just like in the L-48. We even have roads and houses with actual doors and windows. (I know, it's hard to take it all in, huh?)

I've seen (some of ) your products in these stores (I'm really talking to you, Miss Jessie's), so I think you have a relationship with them already. If you don't want to ship to individuals like me (who could generate a lot of word-of-mouth business for you), you might consider supplying your retail connections with samples and trial sizes.

Think of the possibilities. You could reach a whole other market of people by extending just a little bit of consideration to the 700,00 + people living in Alaska. Most of us have the same needs and shopping impulses of humans from 'round where you might live. We like eating and bathing and doing cool things to our hair - like putting puddings and creams in it. We love to eat, drink and be merry. I bet you we can out-merry the rest of the nation when we start celebrating the end of winter when we come out of hibernation.

I'm not the only person who wonders about the seeming unfairness of shipping and handling charges when it comes to customers with Alaskan address. There was talk a long while back on ebay here. Like those in that discussion and ones on (ugh!) Facebook, I just don't get why you guys don't use USPS over the other (higher-priced) shipping services.

These are just some of my thoughts. I know you don't care about me as a person, but I bet you a Sea Galley's certificate that you care about the money you could make off my fellow residents. I can almost hear the calculators working as I finish typing this.

Sincerely,
#theupper2 of the U.S.

P.S.: While chatting today with another Alaskan, she informed me of what she was told regarding Walmart's not doing a ship-to-store service here: apparently the reason is that the store doesn't have a warehouse here. She was told by someone that one is being built and that it will service the entire region of Alaska. Hopefully, then we will be able to use Walmart online and request items there for store pick-up.

Signs of (an Alaska) Summer

There are about 10 ways we Alaskans can tell that summer is finally about to be here:

I can almost smell summer coming. (Hamburgers. Summer smells like hamburgers.)

1. The fam uncovers the grill and hoses out the coolers.
2. The 13 coats of dirt on your car start to bother you.
3. Ladies start putting on their morning makeup in direct sunlight so they don't scare small babies later in the day.
4. The "break-up" weather has created ponds of water so deep along the sidewalks that I start wishing I knew how to swim. Just in case.
5. If the break-up "ponds" don't get you, the potholes hidden underneath will.
6. If the potholes don't get you, the maniac drivers happy to see asphalt will.
7. People rush the weather by coming outside too soon in shorts and flip-flops.
8. It's fun to watch someone in flip-flops trying to step over the patches of un-melted snow.
9. After having complained all winter about the darkness, you now grumble because the sun is up way before you have to be.
10. You finally start working on losing those pounds you won't be able to continue hiding under your winter clothes.

Peace

--Free

The Happy Dread of the PFD

Well, it's about to be that time of year again. The time when it's advisable to avoid Walmart, Target, Costco, Sams, Best Buy, Toys R Us - and any other place that sells anything.

For those who don't know about the Alaska PFDs, they are not personal flotation devices (and, yet, for some people, I guess they kind of are - of a economic type). They are the Permanent Fund Dividends.

The PFDs are about to be deposited into bank accounts all over Alaska on October 3rd. People who receive the money generally lose their minds. The impulse shopping will commence. Or maybe I can't call it 'impulse shopping' if people have been sorta, kinda planning it from the second the amount was announced.

I was at the library two days ago when it hit the news that eligible Alaskans will be getting $900. People reacted in various ways. Some of them shrugged because they know what they have to do with theirs and it doesn't include the luxuries of saving or taking a vacation. (Mine, for instance, is going straight for medical bills and car repairs.) Some folks got on my nerves with their complaints about the "small" amount. Other people went right into shopping mode. I swear I saw the Amazon and Best Buy websites popping up on computers all over the library.

I use my dividend the way my sister and mother and I always did before. Needs come first, saving comes next, whoo-hoo last. (There was usually very little to whoo-hoo about.)

When the kids were still at home, my mother, sister and I would pool everyone's PFDs and use part for the house (paying extra on the mortgage or replacing a dying appliance). Part would go for stocking up the freezer with enough stuff to keep the kids in school lunches for months. The year that two of the kids decided they wanted to be the Dizzy Gillespie and Robert Mapplethorpe of their high school, we sprung for an band and photo supplies. (And the fees - you never count on the fees that come with any extracurricular school activity.) For our kids that were teenagers, we'd give them fifty bucks of their dividend to hold. If they were younger, they got a hotdog with everything the next time we were out somewhere. The rest of the money went in the bank.

We used to get criticized by some friends because we didn't give our kids their whole dividend. My mother shut them right up. She'd tell them that our kids got their dividend all year long - when we paid their medical bills and fed and clothed them. The love was free, but because we weren't their bio-parents, they weren't covered under insurance from our jobs. Let a kid break an arm and need the local E.R. You can go damn near bankrupt.

All our kids are grown now. The ones who live here and get a dividend are dealing with their own families to take care of. So far, they've remembered how we raised them and always use any extra money well. If we taught them nothing else about the PFDs, they know to avoid the stampedes going on outside every major retailer in town.

What do the rest of you plan to do with your dividend? Save, spend or split?

Peace
--Free

For The Glipho Group

I was talking to a really nice guy over at the Glipho.com social blogging site & really wanted to explain the beauty of Alaska to him. I'm talking about the beauty that we can see just driving around in our cars - not having to fly out over the mountains or get a guide...

So, here is a photo post by someone is not that great of a photographer!

Just a sunset I caught while riding around midtown Anchorage

This is out at Beluga Point. Friend & I drove out one day. 

Can catch a great view even from Walmart's parking lot!

On drive to Beluga Point

Campbell Creek, running next to my family's house

The Homer Spit. Went with fam so they could do fishing charter for the day

Houses sitting on the mountainside at Beluga Point.

Was a beautiful walk in the fam's neighborhood today!

And here are some webcam views

• From the Sheraton Hotel downtown
• Midtown
• Downtown
• Some "weather-cams" at various locations

So, yes, Anchorage is gorgeous when she wants to be, but the winters are getting too long for me. I need some heat!

Peace
--Free

Ain't This About A Blip?

I said I wasn't going to complain.

I'm not complaining.

My mouth is just hanging open in disbelief.

Pretty sure I'm not the only one who woke up to this view and said, "This is some bulls**t!"

Hopefully, the sun will be shining on my birthday - at the end of June!

SMH...


Peace
--Free

Wait Five Minutes and the Weather Will...

Just a photo post of the great time the roomie and I had yesterday on our day-drive to Beluga Point.

If this is the view from the Walmart parking lot, imagine how gorgeous this place is on the open road!

Just a few minutes drive from our apartment, up the Seward Highway.

Nice, clear,dry roads. Not a lot of seasonal traffic yet.

Just a bit farther up to the pull-off

Beluga Point
(Want to ride the train this summer!)

That's not fire & smoke in distance; it's a falls with the sunlight hitting the water just right! Cool, huh?

Yep, some lucky folk live up there. What a view!

We had a great day. Rode around getting out errands done in beautiful sunlight. Spent a few moments at Beluga Point, looking at the scenery. Complained about how freezing cold the wind was. Should have kept our mouths shut...

This is what we woke up to this morning:

I weep...
(View from our living room window earlier today.)

I guess that's what we get for complaining about the cold, huh? Got served an order of snow to go with it.

Peace
--Free

Weather-Bugged

I love Weatherbug. I have the app on my phone, I have the extension on my browser... Just love it. When it comes to the weather, I am always in need-to-know mode.

One of my friends lives in Sydney, Australia. I can even check out his weather when I just feel like hating him. He's always ranting about how beautiful the photos of Alaska are. Can't wait until the day he visits. I have plans to leave him on the side of the road in deep snow for about five minutes.  Not long enough for him to really hate me something awful, but long enough that he won't be so chipper about Alaska winters.

Anyway.

I am posting to talk about the glorious weather we are having. So freaking sunny, I feel like I have overdosed on happiness.

One question, though: why is it going to be so much warmer later in the day?

3 p.m. - 36 degrees...

7 p.m. - 40 degrees

But, really, do I care?

Mostly sunny and FORTY degrees on Thursday. Whoo-hoo!

Nope. Not when Thursday is looking that good. Shoot, that's practically sunbathing weather for (some of) us Alaskans. I stay covered with sunscreen myself, but, dangit, won't it be nice to feel some of that sunshine!!!

If you haven't figured it out by now, it doesn't take much to make me happy.

Let's celebrate with a song. (Change "rain" to "snow" & "gone" to "almost gone" and we've got a hit folks!)

Peace
--Free