Wet cement!!

This morning I thought I would share another photo with you..... it makes me smile. Back home in the UK you may quite often see a cat or dog paw print left by accident in cement, when the unsuspecting animal concerned walked across a patch before it was properly dry. Of course there will have been signs that say "wet cement" but (of course) animals can't read. Or if they can they don't let on for fear that we humans will further exploit them for profit.
Naturally, here in Alaska you get the same thing, but in this case it is a moose that couldn't read the sign and plodded through wet cement in search of something.....maybe it was on its way to a very important meeting, or simply just out for a stroll in the sunshine, we may never know.
But, like our own Hollywood Walk of Fame, the prints will be there forever......

Earthquake!!!

I was woken up early this morning (3:41am) by an earthquake. The bed shook me awake, and for a few seconds I rode the earthquake feeling like some sort of earth-surfer. I only ever experienced one earthquake in the UK, but since I've moved to Anchorage they are far more commonplace. They do not scare me, I am lucky in that they have all been small quakes so no harm done, and hopefully that's the only type I will ever encounter. But what scares me is that earthquakes remind me that the Earth is a living, changing thing, and we NEED to look after it; and we're failing. Everyone that lives on this earth is equally responsible for its welfare, and many people are wasteful and careless, and those that do care are often dismissed as cranks, hippies, do-gooders etc, instead of being applauded and set as an example to follow. I'm sorry if I offend anybody by saying this, but Americans seem to be terribly wasteful, shockingly so. Obviously I am only speaking of my own experiences, at my workplace etc and friends I have made here, compared to those I had in the UK. So much in the US is disposable and so many people are ignorant of their responsibility to their home planet. I wish, if you read this, for you to do your very best to be environmentally responsible, and to encourage all those around you to be the same. There are so many small changes we can all do, a tiny effort involved, but Globally those changes will add up. Your planet will thank you.

Good moringi!

Good moringi! This is what I wrote one morning because I was trying to write Good Morning to Daughter Number One on facebook chat and I typed too quickly. We decided we liked it and would use it frequently.....
Today's photo is of a most serious crime against all fashion. This is something I have to deal with on an all too frequent basis here in Anchorage, and I would like those who commit it to know how painful and traumatic it is to have to witness.......
If you look at this photo and cannot see the point I am trying to make, then I urge you to look down at your own feet, you may be guilty too. This sort of crime has to end. That is all.
Except I would like to point out that
a. This is NOT a self portrait.
b. The Fashion Police have been alerted and are on the way.

Naughty Squirrel!
Have I told you about my squirrels? Well last year there was a squirrel in our garden. As I have no children or pets in this country I insisted on it being my pet, even though I can't give it cuddles I can still be entertained by its antics. I named him Bob (I name most things Bob) even though in all likelihood he is a she. I love Bob, and Perfect Husband keeps our feeder topped up with sunflower seeds so we can watch Bob and his bird friends enjoy our garden. Now this year there are three Bobs; Bobs 2 and 3 are smaller, and could be Bob's offspring, although if they are there doesn't appear to be much maternal love from Original Bob; she/he chases them off if they get so much as within a yard of the food! The two junior ones tolerate each other although we now put food in more than one place to stop them squabbling.....
We have various flowers, ornaments etc in the garden, which none of the visiting animals have ever shown any interest in, until the arrival of a large bamboo wind chime which was a birthday gift for Perfect Husband from his daughter. I have seen one of the Junior Bobs venturing onto the wind chime but then hopping off as it moved under its weight....but yesterday I came home from work to find this......

Take a close look, this is Junior Bob attacking the wind chime- he chewed through the string and was "tasting" the bamboo! I rescued and repaired the wind chime from this young upstart and replaced it with a wind chime Perfect Husband had bought me last year- a metal skeleton fish-let's see how he likes the taste of metal!! I can't be angry though-  they're too cute!
Here is a pic of Original Bob enjoying breakfast.....

Aaaah, much love.

Zombies are not always cool......

Ok so me and Perfect Husband went to the cinema to see the Brad Pitt movie World War Z on Saturday. I have no words for how brilliant and compelling I found this movie; actually I do, and here they are:
Firstly it stars Brad Pitt and therefore I knew it would be most excellent. Not only is Brad Pitt very pleasing to the eye, even as he approaches his 50th birthday and his face is reflecting that fact, but I have never known him to make a bad movie. I liked many things about this film, the first being that it looked REAL, the characters were not Hollywood botoxed beauties, but real people with lines on their faces and somewhat grubby fingernails, and a haggard appearance, just as you would expect in this situation. I will not give the plot away, but the Zombies themselves were terrifying in that they were pretty casual and slow moving, even dormant, then when they heard a loud noise, sprung to life and moved with terrifying speed, snapping their mouths open and closed, making hideous clicking noises with their teeth. The scenes where the suspense stretched out for what seemed like a week left me feeling sick with tension, and I actually think I burnt up a lot of calories watching this film, my heart was beating so fast.
Anyway, movie over, we ventured Downtown where the Summer Solstice Festival was in full swing.
Despite what the tourism website may claim, there's not a lot to do here, so when something's going on Downtown, you better join in or miss out, even if it is just food stands and a man carving things with a chainsaw. They had made a large sandbox area for small children to play in (I hope someone was monitoring any potential cat activity) and somebody else had constructed an actual small pond in the street by means of wood and large sheets of plastic; there was a small worried looking child in a canoe being supervised by a man who was wading barefoot in what surely must have been 8 inches of pure icewater-remember this is Alaska, and although we have lately had gorgeous sunshine and high temperatures (except you can't go outside and enjoy it unless you also enjoy the attentions of the billions of ravenous (zombie?) mosquitoes....) it was pretty windy and chilly on Saturday afternoon by the time we got out of the cinema. As we walked through the park, the first thing we spotted was a zombie! There he was, dirty, disheveled, head hanging down, shuffling slowly and hesitantly......oh no wait! It was just a drunk Native Homie........ the unfortunate truth is that before you visit Alaska you have an image of happy Eskimos, cheerfully ice fishing and carving things out of bits of dead animals to help pass the long dark Winter. However, when you visit here or live here for any length of time you discover that an unfortunately large percentage have succumbed to their inherent weakness for alcohol, resulting in many toothless drunk Natives passed out on park benches, begging at traffic lights (why does the fact that you've written "God Bless" on your cardboard sign make it ok to beg from people who work and pay their taxes?) or arguing good naturedly at bus stops.... I say good naturedly, because,in my experience I have never been harassed or felt threatened by these people. Sure, at my previous bus stop there was almost always at least one asking me where I was from (I am British and proudly carry my Harrods bag with Union Jacks on it) or admiring me in some way or trying to give me things that I really, really don't want (drunken couple trying to persuade me to accept an almost lifesized grubby, stuffed Husky Dog toy please take note) but I never once felt afraid. I am at a new bus stop now on account of my work moving to a new venue, and I kinda miss my Homies, but I make do with watching the comings and goings at the Tattoo Parlour.
However, the point of my ramblings is this; I watched a Zombie movie which I thoroughly enjoyed, however it stayed with me long after the closing credits and I am not lying when I tell you it made me somewhat jumpy in large crowds, and I sensed Perfect Husband was experiencing the same effect. And this leads me to wonder; if the whole Zombie Apocalypse thing happened now, this very minute, how would I fare? What do I have about my person, clothing wise or equipment wise to survive this? (As I am currently wearing a Summer dress and flipflops, they would definitely need to be replaced by the trainers, fleece and other practical types of clothing that many people here wear on a daily basis, some of them even cheerfully.) What strengths do I possess, both physical and mental, to help me survive? Sure I could make my way to various shops and loot things, water, camping gear, weapons etc to help me, but more importantly, would I WANT to survive?
If the entire world as we know it is fast approaching Hell in a Handbag, Perfect Husband is miles away working out of town and Daughters One and Two are on an entirely different continent...if it's every one for themselves and every minute of every day is a terrifying struggle just to survive, with very little hope of life reverting to what it was before (yes I know we have many problems on this insignificant, tiny, overcrowded planet, but it's still home) I think I would most likely find my way to a jewellery shop, via a wine and chocolate shop, oh and Walmart first for a gun and some ammo, and have a drunken little party for one whilst trying on all the diamonds I can find, then going out in a blaze of glory. Or maybe not, I'm not sure. You should never give up hope, or there's no point being alive anyway. I suppose you never really know how you will actually act in certain circumstances until they happen.
Let's hope we never find out.
This is me as a Zombie, thanks to the Walking Dead app. Note the silk Union Jack Scarf, and diamond earrings. This is the only way to do Zombie. Fact.

Random!!!

So Perfect Husband is beavering away tapping furiously on his iPhone.... I ventured to ask what he was so busy doing, when he turned to me and said "I'm trying to find out how a eunuch would go for a pee"......... (For those of you also wondering the same thing, they would put a tube of sorts in place to keep the wound from completely healing over and thus preventing the unfortunate person from peeing......)

So there are no bus adventures today, unless last night's counts; It began with me waiting at the bus stop as usual, which happens to be outside a tattoo parlour. I have seen a young man there several times recently, actually I think he may work there, and he is extremely tattooed, including his face and neck, so I was discreetly trying to get a photo of him to send to Daughter Number One. Not for any negative reason you understand, but because he is young, slim, and the tattoos actually add to his somewhat attractive appearance, rather than make him look like a mad axe murderer or similar. I  thought Daughter Number One might enjoy looking at him, so I became a sort of spy/ninja and through a superb combination of nonchalance, pretending to check the time, playing a "game" on my phone, plus many other surveillance skills I possess, I managed to take a halfway decent photo which is now on Daughter Number One's email in the UK. So, this young man has achieved fame without even realizing it. Then the bus turned up, so I got on (I'm not stupid) and couldn't take my usual seat as there was something unmentionable (not to mention unidentifiable) on it, and as everything I wear is usually fabulous (I refuse to subscribe to the standard Alaska uniform of clogs/crocs and fleece) I prefer to keep it that way. So I sat in the next seat along, not a second too soon as the driver was Enthusiastic Lady Driver who stomps on the brake/accelerator with such glee that the bus and everything on board lurches from stop to stop, in a way so violent it makes me fear for my teeth. (She also forgot which route she was on last week and took a wrong turn) She shouts "Have a good day" at everyone who steps off the bus, myself included, which seems impossible to me for several reasons; a. Surely it's not possible for EVERYONE to have a good day, even though it would be lovely
b.Does she REALLY mean it, or is it just a phrase she uses out of habit?
c.If it's just something she says, she could very well be wishing an axe murderer a good day without realizing it......
In conclusion, I have actually done a post about the bus, even though I said I wasn't going to, plus I mentioned axe murderers twice.
So anyway, no bus today as Friday is Perfect Husband's day off so I get a lift to work, which also means Friday is Fabulous Shoe day, as I don't have to contend with cracked, pot holey pavements and the risk of getting heels caught on the bus. I have added a pic of today's shoes at the end.
Today is mine and Perfect Husband's First Wedding Anniversary. As Daughter Number Two put it so succinctly on the phone a couple of days ago "Bloodyhell mum, a whole year with the same bloke, well done!" I love my kids. She does have a point though.
So Perfect Husband celebrated prematurely by drinking an entire bottle of red wine last night. He works away during half of the week, so he came home at 9pm exhausted and stressed, and we spent the next three hours drinking wine and discussing James Gandolfini who has just died (Perfect Husband has just recently discovered The Sopranos and has been watching them in his hotel room on a weekly basis) plus other topics.
We drunk dialed Daughter Number One at 11:20pm, as she is in England and so it was 8:20am next day for her, and as she had a Date I was anxious to dispense motherly advice, while Perfect Husband was shouting helpful things in the background.
I went to bed at midnight, whereas Perfect Husband came to bed, then left fearing a Vomit was fast approaching (he made an adorable high pitched yelping noise from the bathroom; I on the other hand always sound like I am expelling a Demon when I throw up; could I have vomit envy?) I knew no more until this morning, when I was greeted by the sight of him in bed snoring loudly, there was a blue spare pillow on the bedroom floor which Whiney Dog was standing on (she lacks the ability to simply walk around things) plus a blanket in the hallway, plus an entire toilet roll balanced on the side of the bath, twice its normal size and soaking wet, on account of him misjudging the position of the holder and simply dropping the whole thing in the toilet.
I got ready for work, put a luxuriously dry roll of toilet paper on the holder, placed the sodden one in the recycling, prepared coffee, iced water and aspirin for Perfect Husband, then woke him up.
And here I am at work, while hopefully he is at home sleeping off his hangover and not clipping Whiney Dog's fur without my supervision; on second thoughts it may be amusing to have a medium sized, slightly overweight dog who resembles a lion........
Below is us on our wedding day, did I mention we had a Pirate Wedding? And also today's utterly fabulous shoes..... enjoy.

You could just MOVE!!

So, this morning I am waiting at my bus stop as usual. I prefer to stand anyway, even more so as this morning there is a young lady of somewhat robust proportions, clad in sizeable black jeans, black tshirt, and black Stetson sitting on the bench, and I don't like to sit with strangers in case they try and engage me in conversation. (I am British. We don't do conversation with strangers unless we absolutely have to, or unless the weather demands it.) So there I am, standing and looking to my left, waiting for the bus, whilst listening to Radio One on my iphone. Perfect Husband found me a Free App for this, which is most excellent for two reasons: One, being how thoughtful and kind Perfect Husband is, as I am British and currently living in Alaska, and he is American and appreciates how many things I miss about my homeland, and two, it was FREE. I adore FREE things.
It does however mean that my breakfast show is Greg James as we are 9 hours behind the UK, so the "Going Home" song is a cruel tease for me as I am just beginning my day but you can't have everything. (Unless you are very rich and can buy everything, but then you are probably ugly or boring to remind you that you really can't have everything.)
Anyhoo, as I said, I am listening to the lovely Greg and enjoying the sunshine when a voice is spoken just loud enough to cut through my daydream.....and the voice belongs to Stetson Girl, who says "Ma'am? Can you step back so I can see when the bus comes?"
I was so surprised I did actually step back, although it did strike me as an odd request, for several reasons:
1.Why do I need to do as you ask? We are strangers and the world is surely large enough for you to look round me....?
2.As far as I can tell, I am too small to block the sight of an entire bus, even a single decker one.
3.You could just actually stop being so bloody lazy and MOVE, (even if it's only your head) to see if said bus is coming.
4.You could just continue to sit and do nothing, and eventually the bus will come to a stop right in front of you and you will notice it anyway.
Not surprisingly, I did as she asked and stepped back.
I said nothing, although I did immediately complain on Facebook...... I like Facebook for several reasons, complaining being one of them.
Not necessarily complaining in a whiney way; the world has plenty of those types of people; no, I like to complain in what is hopefully an amusing way.
The bus did indeed turn up shortly- I'm so glad I moved and therefore did not prevent Stetson Girl from seeing it.....and as an extra act of generosity I let her get on first. This seems to be bus etiquette; if you arrive at the bus stop first you get on the bus first, unless it's Elderly Chinese Man who waits (or should that be skulks with a cigarette) so far back in the trees that I fear the bus will depart without me if I wait for him to get on first......but I haven't seen him for a while.....too many cigarettes maybe.......
Anyway we were both safely on the bus so I took my seat and did my usual routine of surreptitiously glancing at my fellow passengers to see if there was anyone of particular interest on board, and Bingo! I got two for the price of one; a small Eskimo Lady in a rather fetching patterned Parky (my ex-Eskimo-Mother-In-Law called them Parkys, not Parkas, but more of her later...) and a large man with long white hair and beard, Stetson and blue denim dungarees, straining to cover his considerable girth. Dukes of Hazzard County anyone? (Ask your parents.....)
So I did what any normal person would do; I took a discreet photo to amuse my friends with. (I removed their heads in case they somehow stumble across this post) (I didn't remove their heads literally.)