It's called a Fishing Rod!!

On Friday Perfect Husband wanted to play X Box in the evening as a lot of his friends live on the East Coast and so they are online then, so I decided to take the bus downtown after work for a little retail therapy.... a good excuse being that Fabulous Daughter Number two has just been made Head Girl at her school, and so I wanted to buy her a little gift. Not that an excuse is needed to go shopping anyway.......
I thought I'd better check I had got on the right bus, as it's not my usual going home one. I asked the bus driver if he went to the bus station downtown, and on hearing me speak he said "Wait; do you have an accent?" Curious question this, as don't we ALL have an accent? Some are just different to others, that's all. Anyway, I explained that I was British, to which he exclaimed "Cool" and I must say I am inclined to agree with him......
It also seemed to be the opinion of a lot of the shop assistants, who mostly seemed to be very pretty, well dressed, exceedingly camp young Asian men with spikey hair who were enamoured with my accent. This seems to be a common theme here, if I am shopping without Perfect Husband I am always mistaken for a tourist and am complemented on my accent; doesn't get me a discount though, sadly!!
After I had bought a few goodies and wandered around I decided it was time to go home and enjoy the glass of wine that was calling my name so loudly I heard it echoing around the shopping mall.
This meant one thing: the Bus Station On My Own.
The Bus Station is a somewhat scary place at the best of times; there are often several dodgy characters round there, but it was still daylight and plenty of people around so I felt ok. The presence of Mr and Mrs American Tourist reassured me too. You can always spot these people a mile off because they look rather out of place and are always dressed in identical tourist garb; matching jackets/fleeces and sensible walking shoes, often with an umbrella and a map tucked under the arm, and a bag of mementoes printed with the name of one of the many tourist souvenir shops here ( Do read the labels though if you venture into one; you may otherwise very well be taking home a "Genuine Alaskan" item that is in fact made in China....).
An Eskimo man walked by with a rucksack with a fishing rod poking out of the top and a checked shirt and jeans on, a cheerful smile on his face. He explained to anyone who would listen that he had caught two big fish and they were in his backpack (not sure he will ever get the smell out, so I made a mental note not to ask to borrow said backpack) Mr American Tourist asked him in a most knowledgeable way if the thing sticking out of the pack was a ------ (can't remember the word he used but it seemed to be a Native word for a hunting/fishing type of tool) whereupon the Eskimo asked him to repeat himself because he hadn't heard properly. Mr American Tourist tried a different tack and asked what the thing sticking out of the pack was called, to which the Eskimo replied "Oh this? This is called a Fishing Rod!!" and there you have it.....try and be all patronizing to the locals and you will be put in your place!!
I have to admit I stifled a small grin at that one.......
When it was time for my stop I pressed the button which the driver firmly ignored and coasted straight past my stop. Another passenger wanted to get off too, so he finally realized his mistake and stopped, about 200 yards past the stop. My fellow passenger was a tiny wrinkled old lady, so I helped her off the bus, and across the road. She offered to share her umbrella and we walked down the road a while, chatting companionably. She is called Nida and is from the Philippines. Both she and I are a long way from home and have no other family here, our respective children being thousands of miles away. I mentioned that it was hard wasn't it, being so far away from home with nobody else here to speak to, and she replied "Not anymore, now I have you to talk to."
How sweet this was I thought, a small connection made, a friend discovered, a smile shared.
And for today's photo I am choosing this one: Me and Bindi out on a walk and discovering some moose poo. I think the smile on Bindi's face says it all.

Be nice to worms!!

I rather like this planet-it's my home. As the saying goes "there is no plan(et) B" so would you please all join me in trying to take care of it?
For example; yesterday I was walking to the bus stop in the pouring rain. I was bored so I decided to count the worms that I saw on the way. Worms are common back home but here in Alaska there don't seem to be as many so spotting them in the rain is a bit of a novelty (yes, I REALLY need to get out more!!). Anyway, I counted a total of 16 little worms, all going on about their business. I also spotted a used condom.
I wondered if the worms might also spot the condom and wonder if it was a fallen comrade, perhaps gather round and have some sort of memorial Service. Or maybe they would all try and squeeze into it, using it to shelter from the rain. I imagined all sorts of worm and condom related scenarios as I walked past, but the fact of the matter is this; that condom does NOT belong on the ground, the worms do. As we all know, worms play a huge part in aerating and mixing the soil, keeping it fertile. It has to be said now that everywhere you look, there is rubbish of some sort. Discarded waste, fast food containers, plastic bottles, deflated balloons, broken bits of things that were once useful, and of course, discarded condoms. Why do people do this? We are doing so much damage and it will soon be to the point of no return, if it isn't already.
These abandoned items are a real danger to our fellow creatures; how many stories and photos have you seen of animals and birds with bits of plastic caught around their legs, beaks, necks?
This is a cruel death for any creature, and it can so easily be avoided.
So please think carefully about how you dispose of things you no longer need or use, if not for your own sake, do it for the sake of those tiny, friendly, helpful worms.

Love is the Only Way...

So today is of course September 11th. I didn't live in America back then, nor am I an American. But I am a Human Being, with thoughts and feelings, and I like many others experienced that day in 2001 with many overwhelming emotions; fear, sadness, horror, helplessness.....and many others besides. I was married to Husband Number One back then, and our two daughters were just 7 and 5 years old. I had a part time job in a shop which was owned by an American lady who had married a British man. As the UK is a few hours ahead of the US, we were all in the shop when news started breaking. Bel, the owner was terrified for her friends, family and home country while her husband got his mini tv and was trying to watch the news on it in the shop and keep us all updated. I myself was a little confused; I had heard of the World Trade Centre but didn't actually know what it was. I didn't realize it was two huge towers teeming with people. And let us not forget the other victims of the attacks; the people killed or injured in the other hijackings that day, the emergency services, the passengers on the airplanes. I remember Husband Number One coming home from work ashen faced and watching Sky News for hours. I begged him to turn the tv off; it wasn't that I didn't want to know the details; I just was very aware that there were two young children in the house who I wanted to protect from all the horrific images on the screen. I remember trying to distract them by playing with them in the other room-no tv in there. Of course they had some questions so I gently explained that some bad men had crashed a plane into a building to hurt and frighten people, I didn't know how else to explain what they were seeing. Of course, the whole world seemed to be on high alert immediately after, and when a military helicopter flew over our village later on that day my eldest daughter (who, coincidentally was due on September 11th, but put in a rather early appearance on August 15th) was afraid and thought it was more bad men coming to crash planes in our little village. How my heart hurt for her then, that her childhood innocence had been punctured with fear by the world's events.
I remember how the next day driving to work the mood of the whole world seemed numb; the radio DJs were subdued and respectful. Stopping at the traffic lights I couldn't help but cry at the horror and desperate sadness of it all; how helpless we all were, watching the terrible events unfold second by second, thanks to our modern technology and 24 hour news broadcasts. The world seems to get smaller every day with each new advancement in travel and communication, and we can see things as they happen in huge detail. I glanced across into the opposite lane of traffic, embarrassed by my extremely un-British show of public emotion, and was stunned to see the other driver crying too. This is what it takes to bring us all to the same level of emotion and understanding-over the next days and weeks many people pulled together and helped each other.
So today I wanted to acknowledge this terrible event, although I appreciate there are many, many tragedies each day throughout the world, and they are all of equal importance. I took this photo yesterday, of a beautiful rainbow as I got to work. Today however, I have edited it slightly, as I took a closer look and realized what the sign said in the picture. I call this picture "There is only One Way; Love" I hope you like it.......

Somewhere over the rainbow.......

So it's raining. Again. Autumn seems to be monsoon season in Anchorage; it rains almost nonstop, although I think I still prefer that to the snow and plummeting temperatures that will soon follow. So my umbrella is my constant companion on my way to and from work; keeps me dry and could be a possible moose deterrent too if I'm unlucky enough to run in to any again. This morning I got off the bus and was doing my usual, trying to juggle bag, iphone, office key and umbrella, when I had to wait for the traffic signal to cross the street. Then I saw it. At first just the promise, when it's raining hard and the sky takes on that weird brightness. Then a subtle hint of a rainbow. Then, oh joy, the whole rainbow revealed itself, colours so bright it made me stare and smile. I stared and stared, taking in each bright, beautiful colour, thankful that the traffic light always takes so long to change. This particular rainbow ended at my place of work too, so perhaps today I might get a payrise. Or perhaps not. Of course my photo doesn't do the rainbow justice at all, but you get the idea.
So next time you see one, make sure you stop and stare, and smile.

Kitchen Nightmares!!

Hooray- the seemingly never ending saga of the kitchen is at an end!! What joy!! It all began 5 years ago when Perfect Husband remarked to his mother that he might paint his kitchen cabinets as he didn't like the dark wood. A short while later he went on holiday and his mother came to stay to look after Whiney Dog. He came back from his holiday to find the cabinet doors had been removed and painted, but not replaced, nor had the cabinets themselves been painted. And so the kitchen stayed that way for 5 years; the painted doors languishing in the cupboard under the stairs while the cabinets remained unpainted and doorless........ then Perfect Husband met ME!! Some might call me a bully; I prefer to think of myself as someone who Gets Things Done. So we painted the cabinets, or rather Perfect Husband splashed paint randomly and at warp speed with a roller whilst I followed behind, trying to undo the chaos he had just caused- why is it that men in general seem to hate painting and have no patience for it? Anyway, cabinets done, masking tape removed, doors replaced, handles purchased and in place- it looks fab! Oh and I am spending today looking like Cruella Deville as I only noticed at 10:30pm last night that I had paint in my hair, and Perfect Husband didn't notice at all because he is colour blind and just thought it was grey hair! So I am wearing my Bambi skirt today to add to the general Disney Theme......

Gettin' Ripped!!

Ha ha ha, those that know me will know that the title is somewhat of a joke....... I make it a rule only to run if there is a sale on in the shoe shop!! BUT, I have just turned 45 and am in need of a little toning if I'm honest. I'm not overweight, I don't smoke or do drugs so things aren't too bad but there's always a little room for improvement right? So I took the plunge and bought a fitness dvd. Not one of those rock hard fitness nazis that shout at you from your tv, making you feel terrified, intimidated and paranoid (you realize that they can't actually escape from your tv and beat you over the head with their wrist weights for being so unfit and uncoordinated, but you remained terrified all the same) oh no, none of that for me. My choice of torture is a dance dvd, which promises to make getting fit fun, not to mention giving you sexy, sculpted curves- and all for the princely sum of $12.99- how could I refuse? The instructor looks like she would give Jenny From The Block a good run for her money, what with her street dance outfit, tattoos and hoop earrings, but she smiled a lot and had a very tiny and well toned torso, so I figured she must know what she's doing. I moved the coffee table out of the way, clearing myself a little fitness space and pressed "play" (Perfect Husband was away working so I didn't have to worry about making a fool of myself in front of anyone other than the dogs). The first part is a breakdown (not nervous, that will come later I'm sure) of the ten dance steps used in the fitness routines. As I began, frowning with concentration and realizing that Maybe I Can Actually Do This, the two dogs who had been mightily confused by me moving the coffee table, crept closer and observed. Whiney Dog immediately threw herself onto the rug and rolled onto her back with her legs in the air, twitching and making weird groaning noises (I affectionately term this noise the "Let me sing you song of my people" noise). This meant one of two things; either she was having a fit of the dramatics in an attempt to get a biscuit out of me, or she was actually trying to join in....?! Small Rescue Dog just sat near my feet looking up at my windmilling arms with her head on one side, considering the situation. When it became apparent to her that she had not picked a wise spot to make her observations she retreated to the settee and watched me from there.
After I had mastered the dance moves (I use the word "mastered" in the loosest possible sense) it was on to the Main Event. There was a warm up, which I enjoyed immensely, I can do this, I thought, I didn't even need to be told what a grapevine was- I have skills! Then the three fitness routines brought me crashing back to reality, and the realization of how superbly uncoordinated I am...... it's not that I'm completely useless; I have excellent rhythm, have done dance and fitness classes before and can usually pick up a routine fairly quickly, but the whole legs and arms things was a perfect reminder of how stewed up my brain is these days! To an observer it probably looked pretty amusing, and whilst I might not get many points for style and technical ability, I'm pretty sure I deserve some for sheer enthusiasm! Then there was the cool down (not really necessary in Alaska in September) and then it was over. Success! I had completed the workout, hadn't killed myself or the dogs, and even had enough energy left to move the coffee table back. So to celebrate I had two slices of cold pizza and a glass of wine for my dinner, then I went off to shower like a champ.......
I will not subject you to a photo either of me sweating, eating pizza, or showering, but instead I will treat you to this photo of Small Rescue Dog having a bath in the kitchen sink....enjoy.

Belugas Ahoy!!

Last Friday Perfect Husband came to pick me up from work as usual. I saw that he had brought my coat, this could only mean one thing; we were going on an Adventure.
Sure enough, we drove out of town along Cook Inlet, which is always a lovely drive, mountains on one side and the water on the other, and more mountains across the water.
The object of the adventure was Beluga Whales!
Perfect Husband drives this route twice each week for his job, and he had seen belugas during the week. They come in with the tide and as the water is a murky grey (glacial silt) their bright white bodies are really easy to spot when they come to the surface.
We soon saw some, and got out of the car for a better look. There were at least five and they were following the outgoing tide, back to sea. We decided on a good Plan of Action, which was this: watch for disturbances in the water, then sure enough a plump white beluga whale would appear, sometimes just a curve of the back, sometimes the whole thing; smiling face, plump body, then a flick of the tail. Then they would appear further down, staying close to the land, which was really most obliging of them all, because it meant we got a good few sightings of them. When they got too far away we would jump back into the car and drive further down the road and wait for them to catch up with us. We played Beluga Tag for a good half an hour, and it was a most joyful experience all round. I took many photos in the hope of getting a decent one, and this was the best I could do. Not brilliant, but you get the idea; three happy belugas playing tag.......