Memorable Monday

As long as he has hair, Wolfgang has had long hair. He never worried about it until we got here. The older ladies are always trying to braid it; and HoneyBun tells him she'll steal him home and have his head shaved.
Last Monday I cut seven inches of his hair off in our kitchen, with knowledge from youtube and a borrowed clipper kit from a neighbor. (Which turned out to be a dog's set, but it worked. It was my only option.) I was nervous, but my talented hairdresser-friend sent me enough motivating texts to finally do it.
Good thing. He loves it. He proudly shows everyone and tells them he is a bigger boy now.

 Even with bed head- the haircut suits him...

Ben keeps saying he looks like a whole new kid now. Older and even more handsome!

That afternoon and evening were productive. Wolfe and I made a loaf of caraway bread to go with the Reuben sandwiches Josh planned for that night. (Josh is our very next door neighbor, Ben's childhood friend, and Wolfe's hero. A single guy who loves to cook, can and kill animals.) Ruby was taking a longer nap so we spent time counting cups and teaspoons and talking about the need for yeast.
Then that evening, Luke and Eliza Owens asked us to the river to go fishing with them. This is a biggy for me. On Mondays Ben works to at least 6:30pm, and by then I'm struggling for some adult company. Activities outside with other people and their kids equals time well spent and tired out kids.  We all hiked down to the Nushagak river. There Luke would cast Gracie's little princess fishing pole and have the kids take turns reeling in the little graylings. Even Ruby pulled her first fish in that evening (although I'm sure her eyes were on the Disney princess on the pole and not on the fish.) Wolfe and Grace climbed up a muddy slope in between catches. Sliding down on their bums to create stiff mud pants. (Go for it, right? My theory is that if my kids get dirty outside, it is a good sign that they played hard.)

We got home late, but not too late to enjoy Josh's corn beef, canned sauerkraut and pepperjack cheese with Wolfe's caraway seed bread. (So that's not exactly a Reuben, but you use what you got in rural Alaska! To me it was just as good as a Marie Catrib's style sandwich.)

Good thing mom made these while growing up- I remembered how to assemble them:)

That night I found it appropriate to read Wolfe and Ruby the story of the little boy who shared his lunch. A loaf of bread and a few fish (don't those fish look like the ones we just caught?!)

To be a Pansy

Why is it that we call a whiney, whimpy, ready-to-give-up person, a pansy? Not knowing too much about plants, much less how to grow them, I observe that my strongest, long lasting plant is my pansy. Mollia had given her to me two weeks after we came to New Stu. The little flower sits solo in her pot, on my bedroom window sill. Turning her head towards the sky even when the sun doesn't visit.
Mollia is my neighbor two apartments down from us. And even though her dog poops in our backyard, I really like her. She teaches English at the school (which, she says, none of the students care to learn about.) She's quiet, even in her expressions, making it hard to get to know her. But she holds the keys of the green house and the wisdom of growing plants indoors. She let me take the keys a couple of times to look around, and offered beds for my own plants. But I had no idea where to start. What grows well in a Alaskan greenhouse over the winter?!! I was lost in that building that stuck out beautifully next to teacher housing. And although my kids were entertained by running between the rows and picking the too ripe tomatoes off of Mollia's plants- I sat there staring at dirt, bored and ignorant.

Ruby in front of our green house, on a rainy walk

Then a Saturday came where I had three hours to spend with Mollia and her family in the greenhouse. She gave Wolfe the job of flooding the beds while she and I transferred her summer plants, tomatoes, strawberries, chives, marigolds, into pots so they could spend their last days inside our apartments. (I italicize "pots" because we used empty milk jugs, apple juice containers or anything plastic we saved for this. Pots are not sold here at the small, local grocery store.)  In that time with Mollia, we shared sibling stories, opinions on parenting, and laughs about habits we had. Wolfe had the funnest time, and I had adopted strawberry, marigold and tomato plants to house with my small pansy flower.

Cans of rocks behind Ruby hold the windows shut

Wolfe- flooding the beds and getting dirty!

Wolfe's job is to water...

Ruby's job is to look for rocks, and not pull little green plants!

Sometimes we just go to make mud soup

Happy little gardener

Mollia surprised me; she was quiet, but smart, sweet and fun. She offers what she knows about growing indoors, and encourages me to work more in the greenhouse. This week i received my own set of keys to do the watering/weeding while she is teaching. We already have spinach, lettuce, carrots, radishes, cabbage and onions planted for the winter's harvest. I find it a blessing to learn about green-housing with good company. The warmer air (it's a toasty 50 degrees in the greenhouse!) and the smell of dirt puts me in a good mood. Wolfe's muddy fingernails tells me he is learning too. And the way Ruby looks for rocks in the beds makes me proud. Let's see what this winter will bring. I may not be successful at the spinach, but I do see blessings in other areas.

The littlest plant- with the greenhouse and school in view

So to be honest, part of me doesn't want to see ALL the things winter will bring. Now with darker days and colder weather, my attitude is winey, whimpy and ready to give up Alaska. (My eyes are not turned upon Jesus. I try to sing that song when I'm grumpy, but it doesn't always work.)
Yet, even at night, my little flower still reminds me to pray to be a pansy. Little and learning, strong and hopeful. And, as though hard as it may be, not giving up in cold weather. 




(All my green-thumb aunts reading this blog better not tell me this isn't a pansy...)

Some mornings, winter is already here!

Kara

In terms of our own Narnia, Ben could being echoing these words from The Last Battle:
"I have come home at last! This is my real country! I belong here. This is the land I have been looking for all my life, though I never knew it till now...Come further up, come further in!"
Yes, my husband loves the culture, weather, and community. He loves the fact that we can take our four wheeler out and not see anything but trees and tundra for miles.  Ben has learn how to fish, hunt and prepare food as if he's always love to do it that way. And he welcomes others to visit and see for themselves!
Though I am not yet persuaded I am home at last, nor that I been looking for this Alaska all my life, I am starting to know my way around this village pretty well. I could give you a tour (in case any of you answers to Ben's call to "come further up! Come further in" to Alaska.) In fact, I'd say I know it better than Ben. And I give all the credit to Kara.
Kara is a high school sophomore who started running with me at the very beginning. She was on the cross country team training for State. Last year she came in second and this Fall she had hope to train hard and win the gold.  She was a hard worker, willing to do long runs and sprinting with me. But then a month ago she came to school one morning intoxicated. With that and her actions to follow, all sports privileges were taken away from her. She lost her chance to win state. I was so disappointed to find out, but even more worried when I didn't hear from her the next few weeks. Then one day after school she spent three hours with me and the kids. I talked her into still running with me, because we both needed it.

Kara isn't consistent, and sometimes I don't hear from her in days. But she is a fun running buddy; and like I said before I know my way around town, outside of town and through some of the trails. And our talks during running help me get to know her. Come snowy season I am looking for creative ways to still connect with her; but for now just running whenever I can.

Nushagak River- Many trails lead to lookouts over the river.

The only bridge in town; the dirt road behind it leads to the gravel pit.

Running up the pipe line.

Another pit, these are just where open spaces we run hills.

Kara was able to point outs "Erica's"; a small snack shack on our runs. 

Ben and I went there later for date.

Airport road- The main road in town, also leads out to the small airport.