The masked moose mascot of Great Alaskan Bowl Company
So I was flipping through my pictures on the phone the other day, deleting the pocket-portraits and various nose-shots of the kids that accumulate over time, and I realized that there were a lot of small memories that I had failed to record. Either I had forgotten, or they hadn't tied in to a bigger adventure, or I'd posted a blurb on FB and called it a day. Just because they're small, though, doesn't mean they aren't worth remembering. Life is made of small moments, little feelings and words and experiences that build up layer upon layer.
Today I'd like to share some small memories that apparently meant enough in the moment that I took a picture.
Some entrepreneurial souls started up an axe-throwing business in Fairbanks, and several of my friends decided it was time for a ladies' night out. It was lots of fun despite getting lectured by some skinny kid on proper technique. (Apparently, I throw like Mary Katherine Gallagher, "super-starring" at the end of my throw--like I care. At least I hit the darn target. And kid who tried to explain to me who Mary Katherine is: Do not cite the Deep Magic to me.) If you bring a picture of your ex or your dog, they'll give you a discount and let you throw at your ex (they just want to see your pooch).
And this is House Grouse. House Grouse belongs to a local artisan who has a carving shop at Pioneer Park. The artist, who is also famous for the giant Great Danes who hang out in front of his shop, found an injured grouse in the woods and took it home. House Grouse has been with him ever since, and is gracious enough to let nosy strangers hold her and boop her beak.
As the summer closed and the world opened up a little more, people started leaving. Some friends ended their time in the Army, and others moved on to new duty stations. One brave (and slightly crazy) friend sold everything, loaded her kids in the truck, and embarked on a wild adventure across the lower 48 to experience all of the U.S. and find her new home. Whatever the reason, goodbyes are always hard.
We managed to go hiking a couple of times. We made it to Angel Rocks, and apparently I'm in better shape than the previous times because I didn't feel like puking at any point. We also went out to Olnes to do some day-camping with our friends. Knife fights and campfires, big dogs and fading birch made for some good times. These pictures make me want summer again.
This is a momma moose and baby Rick and I found on a walk by our house.
Not our dog. Still a good boi. And a cold boi.
We had kind of a late start to winter (which we are more than making up for now), but our first big snow-dump snarled up the roads, as always. It always takes a couple days at the beginning for the snowplows to get their act together, a tradition complicated by Fort Wainwright poaching plow drivers from the city. Thank goodness for 4WD. We weren't a casualty of the first deep snow (this year), but a bus was. Rick, another guy, and I got to help dig it out. Well, I mostly documented, but I was involved. Another cheer for the trusty truck-shovel.
I've said it before, but I love the solstices. Every year I say I want to do something to mark the Winter Solstice on December 21st, but I never do. This year, though, will be my last chance for a while, so I rounded up some friends and headed out to Creamer's Field about noon, just after the sun rose, for a walk. Since I finally got out and made plans, the temperature naturally dropped to the negative teens. It was still a beautiful day. From sunrise (10:59) to sunset (2:40) we got less than four hours of daylight. I loved it. And, yes, this is the brightest it got that day.
There's a guy who goes a little left-field on his holiday decorations every year. He's got a giant robot spider at Halloween, and for Christmas he always does a Robot Santa from Futurama (if you know, you know; if you don't know, look it up). Every Christmas I wanted a picture, but this year was the year. He even added a Bender and a Robot Devil. Thank you, random citizen, for making my Christmas.
We had unexpected visitors this winter. In the several years I've lived here, I've never seen a lynx except once, very far away. We don't usually get them in Fairbanks proper as they don't like people much. However, apparently we had a bumper crop of bunnies the last few years, which meant we had a bumper crop of lynx this year, and as the bunnies ran out the lynx came in to town for food. (It's a cycle that repeats itself every 10 years or so). At any rate, we had two lynx cross our yard one night, and leave us some lovely furry footprints as a souvenir. It might seem weird to be so happy about a couple of lumpy tracks, but I'm easily entertained. No apologies.
This is a doggo print for comparison. Note how it's more pointed and you can see the claws.
Bren and I had the opportunity to work another holiday craft fair this year. Bren had earrings and her incredible elf-ears, and I had a variety of birch ornaments and bookmarks. It was a great experience to sit with her for a couple of days talking smack, chatting with strangers, and just getting to enjoy that kid's company. The money was nice--we did well--but I'd have had a great time if we hadn't sold a darn thing.
It hasn't been ridiculously cold for months like last winter, but it's been plenty cold enough for the rivers to freeze over. One morning on a lark I went over to Pike's Landing so I could get a picture with the LOVE ALASKA sign. I kayaked past it last summer, but I wanted a shot on the ice. The Chena, like many other interior rivers, freezes a good 18-30 inches down during the winter. I'm a little leery of river ice, but took heart from the snowmachine tracks that crosshatched the river. I was a little less confident when, halfway across, I noticed a huge crack that extended from my foot to the opposite bank. I took my pictures anyway.
So you can see the seasonal 100-degree difference.
I mentioned something earlier about knife fights. Rick bought a couple rubber knives a while ago. They're a favorite with Bren and her friends. Echo is also a fan. She took one to church a couple weeks earlier, and wore it in her boot the whole time.
And, of course, to cap off the year (and this post), we had our little 2020 Covid Portraits. These are self-explanatory. I'm sure there will be more adventures to capture in 2021. In fact, I'm kind of dreading that. For now, though, one day and one memory at a time.
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