Summer is here, I guess. It gets light at ........well, come to think of it, it never really gets totally dark. The sun rises now before 5AM and sets about 11:30PM. We need no lamps lit in the cabin until midnight. The stores and restaurants that closed for winter in Homer are open again. Cruise ships have arrived. Tents and RV's have sprouted on the beach like colorful mushrooms. The Spit is crowded and busy. Boats are coming out of dry dock. The fishermen are doing their thing. Nelson has been fishing numerous times with great success on the Bay catching halibut but not so much success on the rivers trying to get king salmon.
There have been abundant bear sitings reported, but none by us. On the other hand, we see cranes everyday. They have matched up and presumably laid their eggs by now. So funny to watch, they step through the yard like they're tip toeing, afraid of putting their feet in the wrong place. When they come in for a landing their great wings are open wide. They tilt this way and that to position themselves just right. Their long, thread thin legs, normally tucked against their bodies while in flight, are hanging down. They float down out of the sky like they're using a parachute, landing with a great harumph.
The moose are dropping calves here, there and everywhere, including downtown. Apparently, a mama birthed twins by the side of a downtown street snarling traffic recently. We had a calf born at the edge of our yard a week ago. The calf was up and walking about like a drunken partier within seconds. Recently I saw a mama moose crossing the street with her calf in tow. The calf looked all of a minute and a half old. The mama went across in a very no nonsense way, not waiting at all for the calf. The calf, however, was not so sure about this adventure as cars backed up, waiting. The calf wobbled part way onto the road, hesitated, retreated, then started out again. Mom came part way back to offer encouragement then proceeded back to the far side, down into and back out of a ditch and on into the brush. The calf took courage and followed her as fast as it could. When it got to the ditch, it fell in. All I could see was the water splashing, but soon the smart little thing found his feet and a way out of the ditch by walking inside it to the end where it was easier to get out. They have to learn fast. Apparently a mama moose does not baby her babies. She will defend them though. People have to be very careful when near a mama moose.
Certainly one can't determine the presence of summer by the temperatures. Two days ago it was 30 degrees when I got up at 6:00. There was frost on the grass and car, and the plant I had set out was very unhappy. Our daily temperatures have been in the high 40's to somewhere in the 50's with a burst of 60 one day! A local friend told me when she used to go fishing at this time of year there would be ice in the eye holes of her rod. Regardless of the chill the plants have greened completely.
Neither can you determine the season by what people wear here. Tank tops, shorts, sandals, flip flops are on many brave bodies, but jeans and long sleeves prevail. Of course even in winter here, one can see an occasional rebellious soul wearing flip flops or shorts. I have learned not to gape and shake my head. But honestly if you want to wear shorts and tank tops, you just have to do it at your own chosen time because you'll never have to wear them as a solution to the heat.
Oh yes, one more sign of summer. The farmers' market opened Memorial Day weekend and will be open on Wednesday afternoons and Saturdays until Oct. At this market you will find all the fresh produce produced here-------radishes, carrots, rhubarb, beets, rhubarb, blueberries, and rhubarb. The beets are the size of ping pong balls and decidedly not sweet. The rhubarb is good though! And the carrots and blueberries are very good. It's a small market.
I flipped the calendar to June; so I know summer is here. With that flip of the calendar comes our one year anniversary living here. Hard to believe. It's been an exciting, fun, blessed, interesting, educational year. We have loved every minute. But flipping the calendar to June also means there's only six more weeks until some of our family comes for a long-awaited visit. The pull of home and family is irresistible. Nelson and I talk daily about all the things we want to show them while they're here. Have you ever noticed that when you love something so much, you want those you love to love the same thing? Can't wait. It's finally summer!
Monday, June 4, 2012
Tuesday, May 1, 2012
The Homer Mystique
I heard an amazing story recently from a new acquaintance. It seems her husband needed to change careers for a variety of reasons. They lived in the mid west. They decided that since he was looking for a new career, the family may as well change where they lived as well. Never having been to Alaska, they made a big, bold decision to come here to the Kenai Peninsula. They sold everything, landed in Anchorage and started driving south. They had no job. Their plan was to drive all the way to Homer, the end of the road, just to scope out the Kenai and then head back north looking for the town they thought would be a good place to live. They got to Homer and never left. That was three years ago!
That's how this place is. It sucks you in, blesses you mightily, and won't let you go! At least that's how many of we newcomers feel. If I've heard one person say we won't be able to leave, I've heard dozens.
There is so much NOT to like here. The winters are long and dark, the summers very short. The spring is messy, muddy, cold. It's very expensive to live here. It's a long way to/from anywhere. Beyond objects of art and souvenirs, there is no shopping available. Traditional entertainment is extremely limited. The place is overrun with tourists in July. Gardening is next to impossible. Animals eat your grass and any semblance of a garden you might struggle to eke out. Your car is never clean longer than two blocks away from the car wash. In some places the water is horrible. You cannot swim in the ocean. You must guard your small pets from many predators. Often you can't get from here to there in a car without driving hundreds of miles out of your way. Heck, sometimes you can't even get from here to there by car at all because there's literally no road! You get my drift here. This list is not exhaustive.
So what's up with the draw this place has? What is the Homer mystique? I've been thinking a lot about that. Of course there's the obvious. The scenery is beyond gorgeous. Sometimes the air is so clear you can see a hundred miles distant. Auroras are visible from September to April. The fishing is incomparable, both salt water and fresh. The extended light from March to September is amazing. (at this point we have sunrise at 6:00 and sunset at 10:00 with very long predawn and post sunset light). Seeing the birds and animals in your yard is very exciting. The opportunities to ski, sled, snow shoe, hike, kayak, wind surf, snow machine, four wheel, hunt, boat, bird watch are abundant. It is a nature photographer's paradise. Great visual art of all kinds is readily available.
Then there are the people, and here's where I tear up. When Nelson and I were planning this adventure we determined that one of our goals was to get to know the people here. It wasn't hard. They are generous, warm, open, and friendly. If you have a need, they are there in a heart beat. If they can't meet your need, they'll find someone who can. They still have people in for dinner----frequently. This habit has greatly diminished on the east coast, in my opinion, but is so ideal for promoting relationships. They look forward to sharing their toys with you---snow machines, boats, four wheelers, etc. They have skills that are unmatched and share them freely. You need a plumber, no sweat. You need a backhoe, easy.
Because services are so hard to get, people here are very self-sufficient, and they look out for each other.
For the most part, the residents here major on the majors. How refreshing! The houses are humble and so are the people. The weather and terrain, it seems, are equalizers because both are so extreme and unalterable. No matter the social status or income, everyone wears jeans all the time. Everyone has to wear X-traTuffs much of the time. Everyone drives a dirty car and struggles with keeping their house clean. Everyone has a limited selection of overpriced food. Life is basic here, and that's very exciting.
If you want to live in a place where you're accepted/welcomed unconditionally regardless of circumstances, income, housing, status or any other worldly entrapment, come to Homer.
That's how this place is. It sucks you in, blesses you mightily, and won't let you go! At least that's how many of we newcomers feel. If I've heard one person say we won't be able to leave, I've heard dozens.
There is so much NOT to like here. The winters are long and dark, the summers very short. The spring is messy, muddy, cold. It's very expensive to live here. It's a long way to/from anywhere. Beyond objects of art and souvenirs, there is no shopping available. Traditional entertainment is extremely limited. The place is overrun with tourists in July. Gardening is next to impossible. Animals eat your grass and any semblance of a garden you might struggle to eke out. Your car is never clean longer than two blocks away from the car wash. In some places the water is horrible. You cannot swim in the ocean. You must guard your small pets from many predators. Often you can't get from here to there in a car without driving hundreds of miles out of your way. Heck, sometimes you can't even get from here to there by car at all because there's literally no road! You get my drift here. This list is not exhaustive.
So what's up with the draw this place has? What is the Homer mystique? I've been thinking a lot about that. Of course there's the obvious. The scenery is beyond gorgeous. Sometimes the air is so clear you can see a hundred miles distant. Auroras are visible from September to April. The fishing is incomparable, both salt water and fresh. The extended light from March to September is amazing. (at this point we have sunrise at 6:00 and sunset at 10:00 with very long predawn and post sunset light). Seeing the birds and animals in your yard is very exciting. The opportunities to ski, sled, snow shoe, hike, kayak, wind surf, snow machine, four wheel, hunt, boat, bird watch are abundant. It is a nature photographer's paradise. Great visual art of all kinds is readily available.
Then there are the people, and here's where I tear up. When Nelson and I were planning this adventure we determined that one of our goals was to get to know the people here. It wasn't hard. They are generous, warm, open, and friendly. If you have a need, they are there in a heart beat. If they can't meet your need, they'll find someone who can. They still have people in for dinner----frequently. This habit has greatly diminished on the east coast, in my opinion, but is so ideal for promoting relationships. They look forward to sharing their toys with you---snow machines, boats, four wheelers, etc. They have skills that are unmatched and share them freely. You need a plumber, no sweat. You need a backhoe, easy.
Because services are so hard to get, people here are very self-sufficient, and they look out for each other.
For the most part, the residents here major on the majors. How refreshing! The houses are humble and so are the people. The weather and terrain, it seems, are equalizers because both are so extreme and unalterable. No matter the social status or income, everyone wears jeans all the time. Everyone has to wear X-traTuffs much of the time. Everyone drives a dirty car and struggles with keeping their house clean. Everyone has a limited selection of overpriced food. Life is basic here, and that's very exciting.
If you want to live in a place where you're accepted/welcomed unconditionally regardless of circumstances, income, housing, status or any other worldly entrapment, come to Homer.
Monday, April 2, 2012
Marching Forward
During March the amount of sunlight here in Homer, Alaska increased by three hours. You read that right, Folks----three (3) hours of sunlight gained in only one month! And there's still about ten weeks left before the solstice in mid June, the longest day of the year.
Never mind that there's still a foot of snow on the ground in our yard, or that the night time temperatures are still below freezing, or that the daytime temps are still straining to reach the high 40's. It is sunny from 7:30 AM to 9:00PM, and whoa doggies, that snow is melting. It is a mud bath out there on the road ways. Driving anywhere results in your car looking like a rolling cave with mud stalactites adhered to all vertical surfaces. A new level of head light intensity has appeared. Now there's high beams, low beams, and barely perceptible beams because of a thick coating of slime. Getting in or out of the car is an exercise in agility trying to avoid touching any surfaces. The other day I could have sworn I saw something sprouting on the car floor, potatoes perhaps.
I'm getting the point of wearing X-traTuffs-----all the time. You say, "But I'm going to church". No matter. The seniors, the young people, the toddlers, even the preachers and choir members all have on their X-traTuffs. Heck, it's only the beginning of April. We're still wearing corduroys and flannel. Next week is Easter. I may wear the one skirt I brought with me. It will be the first time I've worn it since we got here. That is, if I wear it.
With the big melt has come rivers, streams, ponds and canals galore on all paved roads. It's almost necessary to take a water safety course just to drive into town. The sun is brightly shining, but the wind shield wipers are going full tilt because of all the splashing. Amazingly, road crews are even now in the wet and cold trying to at least temporarily patch some of the holes. These crews are very busy. Last week I thought I saw a Volkswagen floating toward Kachemak City being guided with a rudder! And the first time we hit one big dip/canal half way to town, we put our arms up and screamed thinking we were in the front seats of a roller coaster. We most likely will need new shock absorbers soon.
Do we still love it here? You bettcha! It's special, unique, fun, amazing, captivating, beautiful, ...............
I am most definitely not complaining. Just telling it like it is.
Monday, March 5, 2012
Ice Cream, Coffee, and Dogs
There are three things that Alaskans love---ice cream, coffee, and dogs. Not necessarily in that order. Desserts don't seem to be that big here, but there's always ice cream. Shops selling everything from hardware to art work also sell ice cream. One shop nearby boasts 54 flavors available, outdoing Baskin Robbins.
Coffee shops are even more abundant. A coffee table book could easily be published featuring all the crazy little coffee shops. The operative word here is "little". These shops are about the size of your living room couch, decorated to the max, sporting a catchy name. Of course there's a drive-up window because the inside barely has room for the barista. On every corner of every town, crossroads, and snow machine path is one of these happy little places advertising espresso and the fact that they are open.
If you prefer to sit down inside to drink your coffee, there is no shortage of coffee offered in 90% of the other stores scattered around. Mismatched tables and chairs dot the shabby interiors. Unpainted walls are festooned with local art work. Shaky shelving displays whatever else is being sold there-----souvenirs, books, clothing, sporting goods. It doesn't matter because there's always coffee. My theory is that because of the long winter and lots of dark, Alaskans have a basic need for all coffee all the time.
And then there are the dogs. Alaska is dog central. It was weeks after we moved here before we saw our first cat. I have never, ever seen as many dogs as there are here. One would think there's a law stating that every citizen is required to own at least one, preferably two or three dogs, and the dogs must go everywhere with the owner. Rare is the truck or car in a parking lot with no dog in it. When you invite friends to your home, be prepared that their dog(s) will be with them.
Once in a while a small dog will be seen, but nine chances out of ten, the accompanying dog is 40 pounds or more. There's a reason for this. Eagles need to eat. Stories abound of little "Fluffys" being snatched up in eagle talons right from the sidewalk where they were strolling happily with their owners. Leash dangling in the air, and the owner shrieking and jumping after it, poor little Fluffy soon learns whether or not dogs really do go to heaven.
We did not bring our dog, Tuhlula, with us. She hates cold. Beyond that, we decided she'd be bear bait.
She's a lab-boxer mix weighing 60 pounds so is beyond eagle bait. The problem is she thinks that being called is a suggestion rather than a command. That attitude is potentially lethal here. We have acquired a "loaner" dog, Nuka, who shows up at our cabin every few days for a tummy rub and a treat. She's a sweetheart, but we're reminded every time we see a dog how much we really miss Tuhlula.
Alaskan dogs ready to
run the Iditarod.
Tuhlula, wondering where
we are. (That's my caption,
and I'm sticking with it)
Coffee shops are even more abundant. A coffee table book could easily be published featuring all the crazy little coffee shops. The operative word here is "little". These shops are about the size of your living room couch, decorated to the max, sporting a catchy name. Of course there's a drive-up window because the inside barely has room for the barista. On every corner of every town, crossroads, and snow machine path is one of these happy little places advertising espresso and the fact that they are open.
If you prefer to sit down inside to drink your coffee, there is no shortage of coffee offered in 90% of the other stores scattered around. Mismatched tables and chairs dot the shabby interiors. Unpainted walls are festooned with local art work. Shaky shelving displays whatever else is being sold there-----souvenirs, books, clothing, sporting goods. It doesn't matter because there's always coffee. My theory is that because of the long winter and lots of dark, Alaskans have a basic need for all coffee all the time.
And then there are the dogs. Alaska is dog central. It was weeks after we moved here before we saw our first cat. I have never, ever seen as many dogs as there are here. One would think there's a law stating that every citizen is required to own at least one, preferably two or three dogs, and the dogs must go everywhere with the owner. Rare is the truck or car in a parking lot with no dog in it. When you invite friends to your home, be prepared that their dog(s) will be with them.
Once in a while a small dog will be seen, but nine chances out of ten, the accompanying dog is 40 pounds or more. There's a reason for this. Eagles need to eat. Stories abound of little "Fluffys" being snatched up in eagle talons right from the sidewalk where they were strolling happily with their owners. Leash dangling in the air, and the owner shrieking and jumping after it, poor little Fluffy soon learns whether or not dogs really do go to heaven.
We did not bring our dog, Tuhlula, with us. She hates cold. Beyond that, we decided she'd be bear bait.
She's a lab-boxer mix weighing 60 pounds so is beyond eagle bait. The problem is she thinks that being called is a suggestion rather than a command. That attitude is potentially lethal here. We have acquired a "loaner" dog, Nuka, who shows up at our cabin every few days for a tummy rub and a treat. She's a sweetheart, but we're reminded every time we see a dog how much we really miss Tuhlula.
Alaskan dogs ready to
run the Iditarod.
Tuhlula, wondering where
we are. (That's my caption,
and I'm sticking with it)
Tuesday, January 17, 2012
Test Questions
1. Who traveled 100 miles or more to get here?
2. Who has traveled from the other side of the Bay to get here? (that would be by boat in sub-zero weather)
3. Who went mountain climbing on their honey moon?
4. Who wears X-tra Tuffs at least 50% of the time? (remember the boots I told you about a couple months ago?)
5. Who has shot a bear?
6. Who has driven more than 50 miles on a snow machine?
7. Who has eaten seal; who has eaten whale?
8. Who has field-dressed a moose?
9. Who is a musher? (dog sled driver)
10. Who has road kill in their freezer? (In AK when a moose is killed by a vehicle the vehicle is far more damaged than the moose but the moose is put down and then given to a citizen whose name is on a registration list. That person has to get the carcass immediately, no matter what time day or night, and take care of dressing, carving, freezing.
11. Who has a car with no rust? (There is no inspection of cars or required auto insurance in AK.)
12. Who has cut your own hole for ice fishing?
13. Who has used an Uzi? (Say, what??)
14. Who has lived in a house with no water? (This is VERY common here!)
15. Who is packing heat? (Really?)
After listening to these questions and observing the responses, I realized I'm still a cheechako, not even waving at sourdough yet. I stayed seated for all but one question. I'll let you guess which one prompted me to stand. Here's a hint-----thank you, Toyota.
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