So...how's it going? Everything okay? I ask because it's been one hell of a couple weeks for everybody. I'm not going to write about coronavirus today because, let's face it, we all REALLY need a break from it. I'll save my rants and conspiracy theories, anxiety and anger for another post, especially if (when) we're still under quarantine in mid-April. Instead, I'll take advantage of my glut of no-adult time to catch up on my winter adventures before whinging about the long-awaited summer plans that likely just went down the crapper.
I digress.
December was fairly uneventful. Bren and I sold earrings and ornaments at a craft fair. The older girls and I worked at our church's annual Nativities Around the World. I worked in the "marketplace" restocking cookies and Chex Mix.
After a visit from the traditional (and punctual) Christmas Moose and presents at our house, we went over to our good friends' for dinner. We amused ourselves for the remnant of the year by making snow-globes, going tubing, and prepping for Bren's steampunk-themed New Year's Dance. I managed to survive the Great Tween New Year's Party of 2020, and promptly sent everyone home at 12:05.
After the frantic mess of the first half of our holiday season (four birthdays, Halloween, Thanksgiving, Christmas, New Year's, and all the little things), January seemed to last for-ev-er. I think Fairbanks just had a bit of a holiday hangover. It was record-setting cold, but the light did not disappoint. Northern winters seem to dance on the edge of twilight, even at noon, and it is just magical. The magic dimmed a little when we closed out the month with a stomach bug, but we survived. With all the time on our hands, we also had a chance to play every Alaskan's favorite game, Where's the Damn Moose. It's not as easy as you'd think.
After the three years of January, February really got popping. Things kicked off with the Yukon Quest, the yearly 1,000 mile dogsled race between Fairbanks and Whitehorse. This year it started in Fairbanks, so Aeryn and I braved the balmy -30 and went to the river to watch. We attempted to go out onto the river itself, but the ice--while thick enough in the center of the river, was a little thin by the bank. I wound up breaking through. Fortunately, it wasn't very deep and my boot was tall. I didn't have any problems until I got home and found that my jeans had frozen to my boot.
We also started our last run of birthdays. I think everyone was satisfied with their haul. Friends made sure I didn't get forgotten despite Rick being gone, and the donuts and books were much appreciated. We went bowling for Jane's birthday and had a Harry Potter themed bash for Aeryn's. I'm not usually into birthdays, but I think we managed to pull it off.
In the midst of everything we ran the gauntlet of sickness again. Several kids dabbled with fevers, a cough, and lethargy that lasted around a week. After complaining about struggling to breathe, Leah won a trip to the ER where she tested positive for the flu and got two bags of fluids because she was so dehydrated. I had a sore throat that turned into me waking up one day and not being able to talk or stand up. I spent two days in bed, sleeping, until some very good friends came over under false pretenses to check on me. Apparently I had an awful rash that I hadn't noticed (because I had spent the last two days distracted by, well, dying)--he took one look and promptly announced that I had strep and made me go in for a prescription of antibiotics. Fun times.
After I recovered we went to Bardathon, which I look forward to every February. This is the time of year our local Shakespeare company reads all of Shakespeare's works over the course of a week. We went to the opening festivities, and then Bren and I nipped back a couple days later for an early morning read of
Love's Labors Lost. There were only three of us to read, including one of the actors from a previous production we'd seen. It was a great experience to read with Bren. I went back again solo to read
Cymbeline. There's such a cool little community up here. When we move back, I'd love to be more involved with it.
Light pillars outside Bardathon.
Because I was feeling a little extra, I hosted a Galentine's Day complete with waffles at the playgroup I go to. It was a great morning with some wonderful ladies. Rick and I don't really celebrate Valentine's Day, but I was surprised with a massive box from the UPS guy.
It wasn't for me.
Claudia wanted to get into the spirit of things.
Our first ever Comicon happened a week later. It was small but fun--Fairbanks had a great turnout. The girls were really excited about their costumes and loved getting to see the rest of the amazing cosplays that came out. The highlight of the day was meeting Grey Delisle-Griffin, a voice actor of some note. Among others, she has voiced Vicki from
The Fairly Odd Parents, Daphne from
Scooby Doo, Mandy from
The Grim Adventures of Billy and Mandy, and, most importantly, Azula and assorted characters from
The Last Airbender. Her panel was interesting and funny, and she was very gracious in person, taking time to talk and pose for a picture with all the kids (and I had several extras in my crew that day). We were all nerdily star-struck.
Dark Winter Nights took place on February 29th. It's a bi-annual event where members of the community share stories to break up the long dark of winter. There are only three rules: It has to be true, it has to have happened in Alaska, and it has to have happened to you. There were stories about bear encounters, boating sixty miles down a rapidly freezing Yukon River in the dark, and exploding VW vans. Because it was National Sword Swallowing Day earlier in the week, the emcee swallowed a sword. It was a fantastic night.
Throughout all of our major activities, there were still a billion small distractions to juggle. Bren and Leah (usually) go to art classes with a local artist and friend; Leah skis and Aeryn takes violin. Added to weekly skating, playgroup, church activities, early morning seminary for Brenna, and sanity lunch/brunch dates for me, the weeks were busy. Somehow, we also managed to shoehorn in a six week wood-working class for Leah with The Folk School, a local organization that teaches a variety of frontier and practical classes. She loved it.
Fortunately, March slowed down a little and we could breathe. Leah won a bear from the library in a book-reading-bingo game. We polished off the last birthday and officially ended our holiday season. I started and finished potty-training Claudia, praise Zeus. We celebrated Holi with take out from the local Indian restaurant, homemade flatbread, and henna. We usually do a color fight but I got caught unprepared; we tried to make do with Jell-O, but it didn't work out very well. (Now that the weather's turned and the snow's melting a little, I'm getting blue and strawberry patches on my driveway, so that's kind of unexpected fun.)
March is the month of the Iditarod and ice parks. Since the Iditarod doesn't run near Fairbanks I don't really think too much about it, but I do like going to the ice parks. This year we went to the local Ice Park for some sledding, but Bren and I also went out to the official World Ice Art Championships at the fairgrounds. This is an event where international teams compete at building incredible sculptures out of ice from local ponds. It's gorgeous, even when it's really, really cold. And it was cold.
When your breath freezes on your hood...and your glasses, which is a downside to being blind in the subarctic.
I also managed to get to one of the last Ice Dogs Junior Hockey games before everything started to get canceled. It was a pretty intense game against a really good team. We managed to scrape a win with a couple phenomenal (and lucky) plays.
After weeks of being thwarted by weather and last minute changes, we managed to make it out to Castner Glacier again with several friends. The trip was a little more subdued than last year because we had just found out that the military had instituted a traveling ban thanks to COVID-19 that massacred several important life events that had been planned for months and we were all a little salty. Still, it was a beautiful day, the trail was mostly packed, and we weren't inside our houses.
The cave was stunning, just like last year, but since I had prudently left my phone in the van to avoid a repeat of last year's misadventure, I didn't get very many pictures.
I had prepped pretty well for all the contingencies of the trip, but you can never adequately plan for three year olds. Despite being fed, warmly dressed, and dragged in a posh sled, Claudia opted to cry for the entire hike out to the cave and as well as the return trip. Luckily, there were some great kids in our group who helped pull sleds and carry her so that I didn't have to deal with it. I only had to help once. There was a short but steep hill that led from the trail to the highway. It was too steep to pull Claudia in the sled or carry her up, so I pushed her up the hill while my friend hauled on Claudia's snowsuit. I thanked her effusively for all of her and her family's help. She just winked and said, "Never leave a Bush-
MAN behind."
Yeah. You know you are. Shame. (And thank you for not leaving us behind. Seriously.)
And now, because we aren't discussing desperate boredom and self-isolation in this issue, we are caught up. The one perk to this situation is that I should have some more time to write consistently, assuming my motivation doesn't just blob on the couch with a bag of Cheetos and binge Tiny House Nation...or worse.
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