I ventured outside in the cold for you

I am constantly around others. At work, at home, out and about... I just never seem to get away from people.

Today I don't work till the evening shift at the restaurant. Yay! Time to sleep in, finish Christmas shopping/creating, and the opportunity to not only make breakfast but to sit down and eat it too.

During the making of breakfast I had a visitor near the kitchen window. Yes, it was the hairy madame you stole a glance at above. She's not as big as she could be and I'm not new to the sightings of moose, why take a picture then? Escpecially when I was in the middle of my ME-therapy morning?

Well, I was thinking of you.

Yes, YOU.

I opened the door with a camera in my hand ready to take a great photo. The door squeeked and Miss Madame Moose ran next door. In pink fuzzy slippers, jeans, and my "I-am-doing-laundry" teddy-bear scrubs top, I ventured outside in the cold for you (it's 1 below zero at the moment) and captured my Thursday morning sighting to share with you. And with you, and you, and you too.

Even in those moments when I take some time to think of me, something will always come by to redirect my mind and heart to thoughts of you... I can't complain, I'm never alone.

Merry Christmas to everyone in my life...

I love you.

And that's how we like it.

Here's the long promised road-trip post - Originally dated October 20, 2007

Last weekend Dad and I went on a mini road trip. We drove to Soldotna, ate a very late dinner, crashed at a fairly decent hotel, bought my car the next morning, and drove back home to Anchorage with a lot of stops so I could take pictures (sorry dad).

Here's a little picture tour and commentary of our little daddy-daughter trip:

The whole way there was in the dark, since we left after I got out of work.

And gas prices skyrocketed when we left the city.

The temperature ROSE to 37 degrees Fahrenheit (the fuzzy photo is of the external temperature reading in dad's car)... which means it was warm enough to rain, and rain, and rain, and rain some more. (See the wet road?)

We arrived in Soldotna late and since it was dark and rainy, we decided to check out the car the next morning.

We found a 24-hour backwoods Alaskan diner and enjoyed hot cocoa and soup at midnight.

At the hotel the parking lot near our door was closed to cars-it was recently repaved. To avoid being drenched by a very long walk around the building in the rain, we parked illegally much to my dismay. Looking back I guess, to quote an old coworker referring to my one instance of not finishing my shift closing tasks 100%, we all need to get in touch with our "bad side" once in a while, eh?

The hotel wasn't too bad. Other than the funkified parking lot, my only quip was the fact that the doors only had knob locks. Yikes. I had trouble getting to sleep since I'm used to sleeping on a practical firm twin bed, and there I was with tons of stretching space on a double bed that was softer than I am accustomed. When I can't sleep I usually read. I forgot a book so my only other option was to talk.

"Dad?"

"Yeah."

"Did you know there is only a knob lock on the door here?"

"Yes. No worries though, I brought a gun. I'll get anybody who gets in
here."

"Thanks dad. Goodnight, love you."

"You too, hon."

Dad then returned to his own feat of getting to sleep. He uses a c-pap machine to help him breathe at night. It's probably hard to sleep with sometimes. Can you imagine having a semi-noisy machine attached to your head via a hose strapped to your face covering your nose? Imagine, and imagine it good.... 'cause that's why I started laughing shortly after talking to dad.

"Dad?"

"Yes sweetie."

[Laughing] "I doubt you'd need a gun if something were to
happen."

"Why's that?"

[Laughing still] "Anyone who walks in here will see the c-pap hose
and with either be scared and run away, or laugh till they pee their pants. I
doubt we're in any danger with that thing around."

[Laughing] "I think you have a good point there."

The laughter was fun, it was a great reminder that my dad's not just my dad... he's my friend too.

The following morning we headed over to where the car was stored, pulled into the drive way, and the license plate spoke to me.

CTR. To me, and most everyone who belongs to The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints, CTR stands for, "Choose The Right". It's one of those great little reminders like the whole WWJD thing that was oh-so-popular a few years ago. 801 just so happens to be the area-code for a lot (if not all) Utah phone numbers. Not that I liked Utah all that much when I was there, but it was a convenient fluke with the licence plate I've decided to throw in there as well.

I did check out the car, and it ran very well and looked good under the hood. Only 77,000 miles on it and it's 13 years old. The original owner passed away recently, and dad used to insure her. Dad and I both felt good about the car, no denying it. We went in the house to finalize stuff and what was on the wall right inside the front door? A mesmerizing photographic giant family tree this woman created. The woman must have been super awesome, that's all I can figure. She was not a member of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints, but I did ask since we are big on geneology and you know, the world could very well have shrunk even more that day.

The car is mine now, and I've named it "Jean" in honor of the woman who used to own it. My old car out in Maryland was named "Mike" and I intended to pass that name on, but I couldn't. When I got in, it was definitely a female car, I could just feel it. Jean, the woman, left sticky notes in the car... I loves sticky notes! Jean, the car, had all her radio stations set on country channels... I enjoy country music! It was a match made in heaven! No pun intended there considering Jean, the woman, is no longer with us.

The drive back to Anchorage was less scary, as I was driving my car instead of being a passenger. I'm not a good passenger since being hit by that drunk driver 2 years ago.

It was pretty going home, here's some pictures:

(That's Dad exploring.)

When you gotta go, you gotta go.

Or I guess it's "When I gotta go, I gotta go."

Our outhouses up here are accessible... at least these ones were.

I like signs. This one cracked me up. It mentions toilets... There's no toilet! It's just a fancy piece of plastic sitting on a hole in the ground!

Might as well get a snapshot right? If I didn't, who else would?

Ooh! A great Alaskan moment happened on the way home too - aside from the pit stop.

I met a duck hunter.

Yes, you read that correctly.

And yes again, you are indeed seeing what you think you're seeing.

On my last picture stop there was a pickup truck in the pull-off too. As I went back to the car to continue on, a man came out of wherever in chest waders carrying dead ducks in one hand and a sack of fake ducks in the other. I, being who I am, didn't hesitate a single second to go talk to him. He let me take a couple pictures, though he didn't want to be in them. That's ok. Talking to him was cool, it was like visiting with an old neighbor.

And that's what being an Alaskan is all about. We're ALL neigbors up here. Better yet, we're family... and that's how we like it.

'Tis This Special Season

'Tis that special part of the year in Alaska when summer is over yet it's not yet white and bitter outside. The time when wearing a short sleeved shirt after 7pm is just not a good idea. The time when an umbrella is used not for keeping off the rain, but to defer the tsunami-like waves created by passing motorists as they -VROOM! SPLOOSH!- drive by as one waits for the People Mover (city bus). Welcome to Anchorage, the city of 4 seasons: Almost Winter (when we're rained on every other day), Winter (self explanatory), Breakup (when everything is melting), and Construction (it's so bad our city mascot ought to be an orange traffic cone).

As you can see in the photo, almost winter resembles what those in the Lower 48 refer to as "fall" or "autumn". Key word: RESEMBLES. That means it's not the same, but it seems similar. Yes, our leaves change color. -Ding!- One point for similarity. And they fall off the trees. -Ding!- And the weather gets rainy, windy, and hurricane-y. -Ding!-

HOWEVER.

Almost winter is not conducive to running around barefoot in fallen leaves. It doesn't quite make my spine tingle like red maple tree leaves do (we can't grow maples up here). It doesn't smell like fall. It smells like dust until someone mows their grass, then it smells dang good. Almost winter doesn't allow one to comfortably spend extended time outside to take a nap, study, or read a book (I was very good at this in Utah and Maryland... well the nap part). Outdoor projector movies are out of the question. So are outdoor dances. I put on a sweatshirt to check the mail in case a neighbor passes by and wants to talk, keeping me out there longer than a quick sprint to the mailbox. Early morning walks have changed from pleasant and relaxing to frigid and too dark to walk without the accompaniment of a rottweiler. Our electrical storms are- wait, we don't have electrical storms (well, unless you include the kamikaze squirrels who chomp on the power lines).

Not that I'm bitter or anything, I love it here in Alaska. It's just that this time of the year has presented a small problem inside me.

I miss fall.

Home Again.

It has been quite a while since I have written. I'd apologize, but I'm not really that sorry. It's MY blog, and MY writing schedule... I will write when I feel like it, I won't when I don't. Done deal.

After living between Utah and Maryland since June 2003, I have finally returned home to Alaska.

My new motto: I don't belong anywhere South of Canada.

I returned home on August 29th. My parents couldn't cancel their travel plans after I called off the wedding so they came out and visited for the heck of it instead. I enjoyed having them in my domain, meeting my friends and "adopted" family, and watching them squirm on the Washington D.C. Beltway... only my most favorite road to travel.

My father returned to Alaska earlier than my mom, which gave us some time to travel North and visit her family in Upstate New York. I drove us up there, and I drove us back from there... and we managed not to kill each other. We even spent a fair amount of time laughing our tails off, admiring handsome men from the Middle East (New Jersey is full of 'em), and talking trash about toll roads. It was beautiful.

I wasn't sorry when I left Utah in 2004, not one bit. However, I am sad to have left the life I had in Maryland. I grew close to some of the most amazing people ever, whom I love so dearly. I learned a lot, drove a lot, laughed a lot, cried a lot, worked a lot, loved a lot, hurt a lot, changed a lot... Maryland is a very little state but, as you can see, it has a LOT of potential.

Alaska has a lot to offer too. First and foremost, it's home. I know my upcoming experiences back home will also be filled with a lot of learning, driving, laughing, crying, working, loving, hurting, and changing... because that's what life is all about. Well, maybe not the driving, but if you've ever lived in the Maryland/D.C. area you understand how lengthy drives become an indisputable part of life. I learned that I do my best thinking while I'm in the car... therefore, it's a hefty part of my life.

That's it for today. I pray this finds many people doing well.

Joanna