Boreal Witch

Dear Balin,

Happy second birthday. It was a peaceful day, with only three friends over. Their older siblings had been banished to play mini-golf with the dads. I had brought the outdoor yard toys inside for you and your friends to play with. They had a blast, especially with the slide.

Lunch was simple: fruit, quiche, and cake. Your friend Slate enjoyed the berries. Everything was gluten-free because we wanted to make sure that our friend Hillary could eat, too. The cake was pretty good for having garbanzo beans in it.

You loved the stickers and noisemaker best from your pal Sage. It's a pity we won't be able to take the noisemaker to Wisconsin with us.

You've grown so much, my sweet baby. You still don't vocalize much, but you know your signs and communicate well. I look forward to hearing your voice when you finally do speak.

Love, Mommy

Blessed be.

Three weeks ago, Robinson accidentally trashed the car. On his way home, he slipped on a patch of ice, the car spun, and he ended up crashing into the cement divider. He was fine. The boys and I were home, not with him, so we were very lucky there.

The insurance company deemed the car totaled. We happily took the money and paid off the car loan and even had some extra. Not enough for another car, but unlike last time, we had plenty of time to figure out our next move.

We scoped out cars on Craigslist. We found one that would fit everyone and that was somewhat inexpensive and asked our friend Mark to come out and take a look at it. While we were checking out the van, Mark mentioned that Kevin (their boss) had an extra truck. Mark called Kevin, and it was done. We'd borrow Kevin's truck for the duration of our life in Fairbanks.

Enter yesterday.

We returned the rental car. Started up the truck. I went home. Got everyone ready for preschool after lunch. Got in the truck. Started it up. Got stuck in the 5 (or so) inches of snow in the driveway. Then the truck dies.

Crap, crap, crap!!!

I called up Robinson and told him the truck died. He said he and Kevin would come by and fix it. They did and managed (with some fancy maneuvering) to get the truck out of the driveway. It was quite evident that the truck was not going to work.

Here's the kicker: On the way to Kevin's house to drop of the truck and come up with an alternate plan, a woman runs a red light and smashes into Kevin's brand new Mercedes. Why couldn't she have hit the crappy truck instead???

It's enough to make a person swear off cars forever. Believe me, if we were not moving to rural Wisconsin, I would seriously consider it.

Poor Robinson. He was in the Mercedes. He feels like a car jinx.

I don't know what to feel. The only thing that's keeping me from going crazy is donating unwanted stuff and posting items on Craigslist.

I'm just glad we're almost gone. Not that things will be any better in Wisconsin, but a change of scenery will be nice.

Very nice.

Blessed be.

There's a point somewhere in February or March when winter has completely latched onto your soul. The sun's absence darkens your outlook so that even the most optimistic person becomes a grave pessimist.

In all seriousness, though, I don't feign to love Alaskan winters. But I don't mind the dark or the cold, and as a child I have many happy memories of playing outside for hours on end. Our parents dragged us (kicking and screaming) inside for dinner. As an adult, I do not actively (or happily) engage winter. The temperatures can regularly dip to -40F in December and January - sometimes even well into February - here in Fairbanks and it's...well...exhausting.

When the Equinox arrives, I'm ready for shorts and tank tops, but the world (at least here in Alaska) isn't. It will be another two months or so before it will be time to dust off those summer clothes.

This is probably why Alaskans love summer.

Still, spring can be nice, very nice, and as a result, we tend to be outside more. If there's one thing to say about Fairbanks, it's that the community certainly does celebrate incoming summer.

We went to the Ice Park in early March and then again with our school mates a week later. The boys loved the slides and the sculptures, but most of all they loved a little kid-sized train that they could crawl through and slide down. The picture above is of them inside the train. I arranged the settings manually!

Early spring break, my aunt sent me a newsletter from the Hallmark Store with a picture of a gingerbread birdhouse in it. She knew we make gingerbread houses every year and wanted to share this idea with us. I thought for sure I'd have to make a template myself, but when I double-checked, I discovered the template was included. Whew! The boys decorated a house each: Arthur loved decorating. Balin loved eating the frosting.

The boys love dogs. I have no idea where they get this fondness because we don't own a dog. We have friends who do and they love animals. So I guess it isn't very surprising, but it still amuses me.

The one truly Alaskan activity that the boys will probably miss is mushing. Every year since Arthur was two we've gone to the Open North Classic downtown to watch the sprints. Because the distance is so much shorter than the Quest, the dogs run in or run out every few minutes. It's perfect for young kids with short attention spans because you can watch about five dog teams and then leave and the kids still feel like they've seen something special without having to freeze if it happens to be a cold spring day.

Arthur took his very first dog sled ride at preschool and loved it. As much as it pains me to admit, we will probably return to Fairbanks someday to watch the Yukon Quest...in February, long before spring! 

Welcome, Spring!

Blessed be.

In Wicca, everything is circular. Life is a part of death. The imaginary path that we follow from life to death isn't straight; rather it is curved, meandering, and sometimes wanders. If this path were straight, life wouldn't nearly be as interesting.

I apologize, dear readers, for not updating this blog regularly. Things here have been busy. We had a visit from my mom and my dad is about to visit. There's talk of a sister coming up to retrieve some of my parents' stuff from our garage at the end of the month. I've been tossing, recycling, craigslisting, and giving things away. I've been trying to see people we haven't seen regularly. It's been a series of ups and downs.

The weekend before last was a big low. I won't go into details except to say that I cried in front of Arthur. I think I confused him and may have also frightened him.

I gave away some of my craft and sewing items last weekend. I hope everyone that took something can use it because obviously I didn't. I still have a lot left, but there are so many organizations in town that could probably use this stuff that I'm not worried.

Early this week, a call about a very last-minute house showing which didn't happen. Yesterday, a house showing. I wonder if there will be more or if we'll have to sign a new contract in 6 months. It's a little depressing and I worry. I worry that we'll want to leave, but the house will still be in our possession. We're not planning on renting. We just want it gone. It's a waiting game (which is a game I've always been a bit of a loser).

My thoughts are a bit jumbled tonight and I'm not really sure where I'm going with this. My path deviates from the meadow, to the woods, to a glacier, to a desert...I hope it will straighten out soon.

Blessed be.