A short break among some very busy work...
We finally got the keys to the house, and Little Farm on the Tundra is slowly setting up shop. I would much rather skip to the fun stuff (chicken coops and greenhouses) than the current task (trying to figure out how to fit 1500 sq ft of belongings into 860 sq ft of space), but the reality is we need to get our stuff in the house, and soon. The skies are threatening to snow, and a light dusting of the white stuff has already made the roads a little slick.
The first day in the new homestead was a lot of sitting around and waiting. We were lucky enough to find someone willing to install our new Princess Ultra Blaze King wood stove the same day (and didn't overcharge us, either). And while it went quickly for stove installations, it did take some time. It was worth it though. After a little bit of playing around with the controls, we managed to get a good burn and were able to damper things down to keep the house at a comfy 70-ish degrees. The fire lasted through the night. No one froze or even woke up too hot or too cold. There were still even a few coals in the bottom this morning, and a few pieces of wood this morning started the heat cycle again.
The first night was pure bliss. Even in a place as small as Fort Greely, you can forget what QUIET sounds like. After babies were snoozing, I ducked out to take a peek at our surroundings. With no porch lights and trees between us and all our neighbors, it was dark enough to not even be able to see J's truck, which wasn't parked but 10 feet from me. The QUIET startled me at first. It took a moment to realize that the rustling I heard was my own two feet, and the exhalations weren't from animals lurking in the dark, but my own steady breathing. An nearby dog barked once or twice, and the occasional bunny in the brush caused a stir, but the only other sound I could hear was my own gentle noise. For a mom with two babies, it felt like I had died and gone to heaven.
I headed in after a short break (let's face it, it was getting pretty chilly and spooky out there in the dark). The house was a warm-your-face kind of warm from the wood stove. The air in the cabin was dry, and smelled like warm logs. I tucked into some comfy jammies and headed to our loft bedroom. Beans was gently snoring in the next room, Little Nugget hunkered down next to the warmth of mommy milk, and I fell asleep to the sound of J stoking the fire and heading up the stairs to snuggle in next to Nugget and me. It WAS Homestead Heaven.
Back to reality this morning. It's time to load up the trucks and get the rest of our belongings over to the new house. I'll admit, it looks a little like a bad episode of The Beverly Hillbillies right now, but the cabin should start coming together in a day or so. Meanwhile, I'm gonna keep heading outside for sips of snowy air and QUIET, and keep daydreaming about those chickens.
Pictures coming soon, y'all. I promise. It's just gonna take a while to find all our belongings, including the USB cable for the camera.
Until Next Time,
Happy Moose Trails!
Wednesday, October 21, 2009
Thursday, October 15, 2009
Little Farm on The Tundra
It's nearly official! Little Farm on The Tundra is about to be reality, folks.
J, Beans, Little Nugget, and I met in the real estate agents office today and closed on our Arctic Homestead.
I say it's "nearly official" because the paperwork still has to go to the title company to be recorded. Apparently, when you live in such a remote location, these things do not happen as instantly as they do in big cities. While this normally only takes an additional two business day, Monday happens to be "Alaska Day" (whatever that is?), and the recording office will be closed. Our homestead ownership will be official on Tuesday. Meanwhile, the former owner will have packed his bags (and boxes) and give us the keys Sunday, and we will waste no time getting moved in.
So, the details...
It's a SMALL homestead. The appraisal officially marked it as 864 sq ft. (Told ya. It's small!) It's a new (2007) construction log home that reminds me a lot of Lincoln Log structures I built as a child on my mom's living room rugs.
For those of you familiar with the TV version of "Little House on The Prairie", it looks much like the Ingalls' home on the inside. The door opens into the kitchen and dining space, with a cozy wood stove tucked in the corner.
J has promised to switched out the barrel stove for my dream wood stove, a fancy little number from the Vermont Wood Stove Company that has a separate baking oven in the bottom and a cook top on top, surrounded in warmth maintaining and radiating soapstone. The cost of that little stove (and the shipping) will likely count for my next five years worth of Christmas presents, but I won't mind when the smell of wood stove baked bread wafts through the house, or when I don't have to pay the power company to set a pot roast on for dinner.
The tour continues with a single bathroom (with full sized washer and dryer tucked in), and a downstairs bedroom that we plan on converting into our family room/den. A small built in desk sits strategically under the loft stairs. The stairs climb to a loft that we plan on converting to the grown-up bedroom, and the adjoining master bedroom will become the toddler haven and sleeping quarters. That's it for the inside. (Pictures will come, eventually, so y'all can see the homestead.)
The fun part is outdoors. A separate well house will double as some storage space, and two attached carports (one on either side of the house) are set to house vehicles and a freezer. The house is nestled on a cozy 2.5 acres which is begging for a roost of chickens, a garden, a greenhouse, a handful of meat rabbits, and maybe even a milk goat and yarn sheep (eventually). J would also say that the place is begging for an oversize two stall garage, but I'm getting my chicken coop first. (Fair enough, since the coop will cost about 25 times less to build!) The girls will have their own little area cleared for the playground of their wildest dreams (not hard when all they really want is a swing and a slide), and there is already a good half acre cleared that just needs tilling and planting for next year's harvest.
The acreage is covered in wild high and lowbush cranberries, and plenty of other wild plants to identify and explore. We've seen moose prints, lynx prints, and the previous owner claims to have discovered bear scat on occasion. I'll believe the lynx and the moose. I'd better not ever see a bear. On one of my many drive-by stalkings of my new house, I crossed paths with a handful of ruffed grouse, and there are more bunny tracks than you can count. We might not be able to completely live off our little parcel of land, but we wouldn't have many excuses for starving to death either.
The wooded lot is speckled with birch, spruce, cottonwood, and aspens, and these trees do a good job of hiding the house from plain view. The ones we clear will do a fine job of proving heat in our upcoming winters (after they dry out, of course), and the ones that remain will keep our homestead sheltered from the Delta winds.
I'm excited to know that this winter, instead of dreaming, I will actually be sitting in a rocker by my wood fire stove, knitting and crocheting to heart's content, and spending the darkest days of winter poring over seed catalogs that I will actually order from, instead of living vicariously through my lucky friends who are already hobby farming.
That's the news for today, my friends! We are off to have a very busy week ending and week beginning... packing up the old house, seriously downsizing, and moving into our Little Farm on the Tundra. The next news y'all hear from Moose Nuggets, we'll officially be homesteaders.
Until Next Time,
Happy Moose Trails!
J, Beans, Little Nugget, and I met in the real estate agents office today and closed on our Arctic Homestead.
I say it's "nearly official" because the paperwork still has to go to the title company to be recorded. Apparently, when you live in such a remote location, these things do not happen as instantly as they do in big cities. While this normally only takes an additional two business day, Monday happens to be "Alaska Day" (whatever that is?), and the recording office will be closed. Our homestead ownership will be official on Tuesday. Meanwhile, the former owner will have packed his bags (and boxes) and give us the keys Sunday, and we will waste no time getting moved in.
So, the details...
It's a SMALL homestead. The appraisal officially marked it as 864 sq ft. (Told ya. It's small!) It's a new (2007) construction log home that reminds me a lot of Lincoln Log structures I built as a child on my mom's living room rugs.
For those of you familiar with the TV version of "Little House on The Prairie", it looks much like the Ingalls' home on the inside. The door opens into the kitchen and dining space, with a cozy wood stove tucked in the corner.
J has promised to switched out the barrel stove for my dream wood stove, a fancy little number from the Vermont Wood Stove Company that has a separate baking oven in the bottom and a cook top on top, surrounded in warmth maintaining and radiating soapstone. The cost of that little stove (and the shipping) will likely count for my next five years worth of Christmas presents, but I won't mind when the smell of wood stove baked bread wafts through the house, or when I don't have to pay the power company to set a pot roast on for dinner.
The tour continues with a single bathroom (with full sized washer and dryer tucked in), and a downstairs bedroom that we plan on converting into our family room/den. A small built in desk sits strategically under the loft stairs. The stairs climb to a loft that we plan on converting to the grown-up bedroom, and the adjoining master bedroom will become the toddler haven and sleeping quarters. That's it for the inside. (Pictures will come, eventually, so y'all can see the homestead.)
The fun part is outdoors. A separate well house will double as some storage space, and two attached carports (one on either side of the house) are set to house vehicles and a freezer. The house is nestled on a cozy 2.5 acres which is begging for a roost of chickens, a garden, a greenhouse, a handful of meat rabbits, and maybe even a milk goat and yarn sheep (eventually). J would also say that the place is begging for an oversize two stall garage, but I'm getting my chicken coop first. (Fair enough, since the coop will cost about 25 times less to build!) The girls will have their own little area cleared for the playground of their wildest dreams (not hard when all they really want is a swing and a slide), and there is already a good half acre cleared that just needs tilling and planting for next year's harvest.
The acreage is covered in wild high and lowbush cranberries, and plenty of other wild plants to identify and explore. We've seen moose prints, lynx prints, and the previous owner claims to have discovered bear scat on occasion. I'll believe the lynx and the moose. I'd better not ever see a bear. On one of my many drive-by stalkings of my new house, I crossed paths with a handful of ruffed grouse, and there are more bunny tracks than you can count. We might not be able to completely live off our little parcel of land, but we wouldn't have many excuses for starving to death either.
The wooded lot is speckled with birch, spruce, cottonwood, and aspens, and these trees do a good job of hiding the house from plain view. The ones we clear will do a fine job of proving heat in our upcoming winters (after they dry out, of course), and the ones that remain will keep our homestead sheltered from the Delta winds.
I'm excited to know that this winter, instead of dreaming, I will actually be sitting in a rocker by my wood fire stove, knitting and crocheting to heart's content, and spending the darkest days of winter poring over seed catalogs that I will actually order from, instead of living vicariously through my lucky friends who are already hobby farming.
That's the news for today, my friends! We are off to have a very busy week ending and week beginning... packing up the old house, seriously downsizing, and moving into our Little Farm on the Tundra. The next news y'all hear from Moose Nuggets, we'll officially be homesteaders.
Until Next Time,
Happy Moose Trails!
Saturday, October 10, 2009
Here Comes the Dark
The last few mornings have caused some mild confusion around the Moose Nugget Household. I mean, more than usual. *AHEM*
I thought it was my imagination at first. Then, I thought the girls were waking earlier, continuing their quest to make sure I never sleep again. The truth is, the Dark is coming.
I am sharing my morning coffee with moonlight this morning. 7:30 am, and not a smidge of dawn in the sky.
I have a few friends that are dreading this time of year. But I find it invigorating. And while I had lots of fun this summer in the midnight sun, I have missed sunrise and sunset the way you would miss a dear friend. I've been homesick for the Dark.
The weather has also taken a definite turn. It's not cold by Alaska standards, but what's going on outside is winter in the South. I was chuckling to myself the other day, when I realized that a couple winters ago, I was standing in 40 degree evenings in Alabama and complaining to my coworkers about how cold it was outside. Imagining a day back down south, I realized that I also would have pulled my gloves and winter coat out in this kind of weather, and would be wearing a cozy sweatshirt under that. Now, if I had a wood stove, I don't even think I would light a fire, except for at night, when we are dipping into the 20s here. That does make for a chilly morning.
Speaking of wood stoves... the wood stove was the winner of the "Which is better?" poll. Which means I was able to bring bragging rights to the dinner table when J brought up the pellet stove again. (Thank you to my dear friends who stuffed the ballot box as well!)
So... "Why all this talk about pellet stoves and wood stoves anyway?" You may be asking.
The dream is close folks. REALLY close. It's a matter of paperwork, and then, The Little Farm on the Tundra will be a reality. More details when it comes to fruition because, as you know, if you talk about the dream, you lose it... BUT...
The agent assures us that "probably next week" we should be signing some papers and looking for a moving van. Then, I'll be looking for some chickens and spending my winter planning the garden while J clears land for my new hobby.
So, while I'm not going to divulge much this week, I give you little clues about the dream because it is going to drastically change Moose Nuggets Updates. In fact, it's going to drastically change lots of things. While TECHNICALLY Internet service is available there, our choices are dial-up or satellite. I didn't even think dial-up existed anymore, and the start-up cost for satellite is pretty expensive. We can afford it, but when the Wi-Fi at the library is free, I don't see why we should pay a couple thousand bucks to get Internet or cable.
THE PLAN is to go to the library once a week to do all my Internet stuff. That includes Ye Old Blog, so Moose Nuggets will continue to exist. And truthfully, as frequently as I update, most readers are not likely to see much of a difference. And to make a few readers happier (for those of you who remember Mr Anonymous who complained about my boring life and reading my tortuous blog)... there should be a few more interesting things happening in the Moose Nugget Household, as we finally start living out my Little House on the Prairie dreams...um, Arctic style.
A few little notes:
-I finally bought my new coat. Yes, I am retiring the Hot Pink Easy-For-Search-And-Rescue-to-Spot Jacket. I also finally found a hat I like, and replaces the gloves that were lost in the Seattle Airport last year when I needed them most. 45 Below zero was NOT the time for gloves to go missing.
-Knitting group was a blast this past Monday. I was recently accused by one of my jet-set, city-type friends of being "an old grandma with boring hobbies". I felt kind of self conscious about that for a couple months until I went back to gab with the gals over yarn and hot cider. I was wearing The Very First Grown-Up Size Sweater I have Ever Crocheted For Myself (it turned out pretty good, actually), and was happy to be working on a new project. In the middle of sharing my latest tales and hearing the latest gossip from the other gals' lives, I found myself in that happy glow you get when you laugh so hard your cheeks hurt and you are surrounded by people that "get" you.
-The Baby Update: The girls are doing great. Beans is a ball of energy, as usual... AND turning two very very soon! Birthday party plans are coming together, and I need to get off my duff and start getting the invitations made. It's bittersweet... she's growing, but she's growing too fast!
Little Nugget is desperate to keep up with her sister, and has started CRAWLING these past few weeks. Initially, it was just little frog hops in the right direction. Now, it's a deliberate hand-hand-knee-knee-slide to her destination, which is usually a toy that Beans is trying to play with. Little Nugget officially has Beans on the run for a safe place to play with toys undisturbed, though Beans does enjoy instigating the cat and mouse game, tempting her sister with a fun toy, then running away screaming, "No! That's MINE!"
So now, at 8:00 am, as the sky begins to turn Dusky Dawn Gray, I'm off to play with babies and prepare for our coming week, which promises to be busy. Should have one more update before anything major happens around here, so stay tuned!
Until Next Time,
Happy Moose Trails!
I thought it was my imagination at first. Then, I thought the girls were waking earlier, continuing their quest to make sure I never sleep again. The truth is, the Dark is coming.
I am sharing my morning coffee with moonlight this morning. 7:30 am, and not a smidge of dawn in the sky.
I have a few friends that are dreading this time of year. But I find it invigorating. And while I had lots of fun this summer in the midnight sun, I have missed sunrise and sunset the way you would miss a dear friend. I've been homesick for the Dark.
The weather has also taken a definite turn. It's not cold by Alaska standards, but what's going on outside is winter in the South. I was chuckling to myself the other day, when I realized that a couple winters ago, I was standing in 40 degree evenings in Alabama and complaining to my coworkers about how cold it was outside. Imagining a day back down south, I realized that I also would have pulled my gloves and winter coat out in this kind of weather, and would be wearing a cozy sweatshirt under that. Now, if I had a wood stove, I don't even think I would light a fire, except for at night, when we are dipping into the 20s here. That does make for a chilly morning.
Speaking of wood stoves... the wood stove was the winner of the "Which is better?" poll. Which means I was able to bring bragging rights to the dinner table when J brought up the pellet stove again. (Thank you to my dear friends who stuffed the ballot box as well!)
So... "Why all this talk about pellet stoves and wood stoves anyway?" You may be asking.
The dream is close folks. REALLY close. It's a matter of paperwork, and then, The Little Farm on the Tundra will be a reality. More details when it comes to fruition because, as you know, if you talk about the dream, you lose it... BUT...
The agent assures us that "probably next week" we should be signing some papers and looking for a moving van. Then, I'll be looking for some chickens and spending my winter planning the garden while J clears land for my new hobby.
So, while I'm not going to divulge much this week, I give you little clues about the dream because it is going to drastically change Moose Nuggets Updates. In fact, it's going to drastically change lots of things. While TECHNICALLY Internet service is available there, our choices are dial-up or satellite. I didn't even think dial-up existed anymore, and the start-up cost for satellite is pretty expensive. We can afford it, but when the Wi-Fi at the library is free, I don't see why we should pay a couple thousand bucks to get Internet or cable.
THE PLAN is to go to the library once a week to do all my Internet stuff. That includes Ye Old Blog, so Moose Nuggets will continue to exist. And truthfully, as frequently as I update, most readers are not likely to see much of a difference. And to make a few readers happier (for those of you who remember Mr Anonymous who complained about my boring life and reading my tortuous blog)... there should be a few more interesting things happening in the Moose Nugget Household, as we finally start living out my Little House on the Prairie dreams...um, Arctic style.
A few little notes:
-I finally bought my new coat. Yes, I am retiring the Hot Pink Easy-For-Search-And-Rescue-to-Spot Jacket. I also finally found a hat I like, and replaces the gloves that were lost in the Seattle Airport last year when I needed them most. 45 Below zero was NOT the time for gloves to go missing.
-Knitting group was a blast this past Monday. I was recently accused by one of my jet-set, city-type friends of being "an old grandma with boring hobbies". I felt kind of self conscious about that for a couple months until I went back to gab with the gals over yarn and hot cider. I was wearing The Very First Grown-Up Size Sweater I have Ever Crocheted For Myself (it turned out pretty good, actually), and was happy to be working on a new project. In the middle of sharing my latest tales and hearing the latest gossip from the other gals' lives, I found myself in that happy glow you get when you laugh so hard your cheeks hurt and you are surrounded by people that "get" you.
-The Baby Update: The girls are doing great. Beans is a ball of energy, as usual... AND turning two very very soon! Birthday party plans are coming together, and I need to get off my duff and start getting the invitations made. It's bittersweet... she's growing, but she's growing too fast!
Little Nugget is desperate to keep up with her sister, and has started CRAWLING these past few weeks. Initially, it was just little frog hops in the right direction. Now, it's a deliberate hand-hand-knee-knee-slide to her destination, which is usually a toy that Beans is trying to play with. Little Nugget officially has Beans on the run for a safe place to play with toys undisturbed, though Beans does enjoy instigating the cat and mouse game, tempting her sister with a fun toy, then running away screaming, "No! That's MINE!"
So now, at 8:00 am, as the sky begins to turn Dusky Dawn Gray, I'm off to play with babies and prepare for our coming week, which promises to be busy. Should have one more update before anything major happens around here, so stay tuned!
Until Next Time,
Happy Moose Trails!
Sunday, September 27, 2009
Some Days, It Hits The Fan
Oh, nothing major. Just starting out to be a rough morning in the Moose Nugget Household.
Beans was fitful most of the night, but since J was at work and Little Nugget was permanently attached to my milking apparatus, it was difficult to go check on her. Every time I was able to disengage the avid milker, Beans would settle back down and I would decide that I should let sleeping girls lie.
Hmmm.
I woke this morning VERY early to cries of "Momma! POOP! Tummy Hurts!"
And in my pre-coffee stupor, I ended up sticking my hands in poop as I helped her get out of her underpants. I decided I should turn on the lights and assess the situation, and discovered that in addition to poop, she was covered head to toe in barf.
Argh!
I left her sitting on the potty to check out the full situation. Not good.
I dunked her in the tub and seriously started praying, "God, don't let it be swine flu!"
A side note here... I called for reinforcements. They still have not arrived. One day, I will discover the correct way to communicate that we need help and you need to get home.
Apparently, saying, "Um, half the upstairs is covered in poo and puke, both girls are hysterical, I have vomit in my hair and poop on my hands and shirt. I really could use some help!" is NOT the correct way to solicit help.
The response was: "Um, like RIGHT NOW? You need help now or all day or what?"
Just then, Beans pooped in the tub and started freaking out. I didn't have time to respond, so I am pretty sure I said, "Dude. Are you serious? I said I need help. I gotta go. I've got poop and bathwater all over the floor."
I think J decided that meant I had things well under control.
And two hours later.... mostly, I do. Have things under control. Sort of. Beans has been made more comfortable with movies and Popsicles. Little Nugget stopped wailing as soon as I returned her milk supply, and is now snoozing between meals. As soon as I can stomach it, I will be stripping down the beds and starting some laundry and cleaning out bathtubs.
For the record, I don't do barf. Even when I was a paramedic, barf was just not my thing. I used to make my partner clean it up ("Ah, lowly little EMT partner... I save lives, YOU clean barf.") Seriously. And luckily, my partner had a stomach of steel and could be bribed with a free lunch.
***
The weather report here is: Cold and snowy. We've had slushy rain falling for a couple days now. Snow in the morning and evening, rainy slush in the warmer afternoons (and by "warmer", I mean like 40F). I wouldn't call it a "white out" this morning, but I will say that visibility is limited. I can't see past the end of our block this morning.
***
Alright. I am being summoned with cries of "Tummy Hurts!" again. I've got to go catch some barf.
Hope y'all are doing better than we are here.
Until Next Time,
Happy Moose Trails!
Beans was fitful most of the night, but since J was at work and Little Nugget was permanently attached to my milking apparatus, it was difficult to go check on her. Every time I was able to disengage the avid milker, Beans would settle back down and I would decide that I should let sleeping girls lie.
Hmmm.
I woke this morning VERY early to cries of "Momma! POOP! Tummy Hurts!"
And in my pre-coffee stupor, I ended up sticking my hands in poop as I helped her get out of her underpants. I decided I should turn on the lights and assess the situation, and discovered that in addition to poop, she was covered head to toe in barf.
Argh!
I left her sitting on the potty to check out the full situation. Not good.
I dunked her in the tub and seriously started praying, "God, don't let it be swine flu!"
A side note here... I called for reinforcements. They still have not arrived. One day, I will discover the correct way to communicate that we need help and you need to get home.
Apparently, saying, "Um, half the upstairs is covered in poo and puke, both girls are hysterical, I have vomit in my hair and poop on my hands and shirt. I really could use some help!" is NOT the correct way to solicit help.
The response was: "Um, like RIGHT NOW? You need help now or all day or what?"
Just then, Beans pooped in the tub and started freaking out. I didn't have time to respond, so I am pretty sure I said, "Dude. Are you serious? I said I need help. I gotta go. I've got poop and bathwater all over the floor."
I think J decided that meant I had things well under control.
And two hours later.... mostly, I do. Have things under control. Sort of. Beans has been made more comfortable with movies and Popsicles. Little Nugget stopped wailing as soon as I returned her milk supply, and is now snoozing between meals. As soon as I can stomach it, I will be stripping down the beds and starting some laundry and cleaning out bathtubs.
For the record, I don't do barf. Even when I was a paramedic, barf was just not my thing. I used to make my partner clean it up ("Ah, lowly little EMT partner... I save lives, YOU clean barf.") Seriously. And luckily, my partner had a stomach of steel and could be bribed with a free lunch.
***
The weather report here is: Cold and snowy. We've had slushy rain falling for a couple days now. Snow in the morning and evening, rainy slush in the warmer afternoons (and by "warmer", I mean like 40F). I wouldn't call it a "white out" this morning, but I will say that visibility is limited. I can't see past the end of our block this morning.
***
Alright. I am being summoned with cries of "Tummy Hurts!" again. I've got to go catch some barf.
Hope y'all are doing better than we are here.
Until Next Time,
Happy Moose Trails!
Thursday, September 24, 2009
SNOW
That is not a misprint.
We've had our first official snowfall. And it actually stuck.
While I am one of the crazy people here that absolutely love winter, I have to admit that I felt a little sad to see that autumn (my all time favorite season) lasted a mere 10 days or so. Last week, the days were still a bit balmy and the leaves turned golden reds and yellows. A few days ago, they began to fall off the trees in large numbers. A trip to Fairbanks two days ago proved that there were more leaves on the ground than on the trees. By the time we drove home from Fairbanks, snow was falling, and by the time I got the girls tucked into bed, it looked like a Christmas card outside.
I would like to take a minute and vent about the irony of snow on the autumnal equinox. Not only is that just weird, I was not very well prepared.
Even more ironic is the fact that I was standing in Fred Meyer (the trendier version of Walmart, for those unfamiliar) eyeballing the new Columbia winter coats. I found one I loved and discovered they didn't have my size. "No problem" I think to myself, "I don't need it just yet. I'll check again the next trip."
Hmmm.
For the record, if you live in Alaska, the right time to buy your winter gear was about three days ago.
Don't worry mom, we are far from freezing. I do have my coat from last year. The one that I bought in Nearly Neon Pink because J had me convinced that if I got lost in a blizzard, I should look like a complete moron so I would be found quickly.
Now that I know I am not very likely to be somewhere that search and rescue would need to see me from the space shuttle, I am thinking of buying a coat in more subdued colors.
Beans received some great hand-me-downs... a full set of toddler arctic gear. And her Nearly Neon Pink gear (bought to match mine because if SHE got lost in the arctic wilderness, search and rescue would also see her from space and know she belonged to the moron in the matching jacket)... it still fits.
Little Nugget has plenty of warm stuff, and the truth is, um... we don't plan on doing any crazy glacier hiking or being anywhere that we need full arctic gear for her, so I think we'll all stay warm.
***
I will admit that seeing snow this early was a little tough to swallow. I DO love fall, and it just doesn't seem right to have the white stuff quite so soon.
But... it's Alaska.
And it didn't take long to slip into winter mode. Beans demanded snow boots nearly as soon as she saw the white stuff, and she and daddy had a good snowman building adventure before tromping slush through the house, demanding hot chocolates.
I spent the afternoon digging out hats and gloves for everyone else, and making a winter gear shopping list for our next trip north. This morning, temps were hovering around 20 degrees until well after the sun came up. 'Bout time for that new coat, I'd say.
Hold on tight, y'all! It's autumn in Alaska.
Also, anyone that can clear up the heated discussion about the advantages of pellet stoves vs. wood stoves (ha ha! "Heated" discussion!)... feel free to add your two cents. My personal opinion: why give up a free source of heat (wood stove) for something that costs about $5 a day to run (pellet stove)? Am I missing something here?
Until Next Time!
Happy Moose Trails
We've had our first official snowfall. And it actually stuck.
While I am one of the crazy people here that absolutely love winter, I have to admit that I felt a little sad to see that autumn (my all time favorite season) lasted a mere 10 days or so. Last week, the days were still a bit balmy and the leaves turned golden reds and yellows. A few days ago, they began to fall off the trees in large numbers. A trip to Fairbanks two days ago proved that there were more leaves on the ground than on the trees. By the time we drove home from Fairbanks, snow was falling, and by the time I got the girls tucked into bed, it looked like a Christmas card outside.
I would like to take a minute and vent about the irony of snow on the autumnal equinox. Not only is that just weird, I was not very well prepared.
Even more ironic is the fact that I was standing in Fred Meyer (the trendier version of Walmart, for those unfamiliar) eyeballing the new Columbia winter coats. I found one I loved and discovered they didn't have my size. "No problem" I think to myself, "I don't need it just yet. I'll check again the next trip."
Hmmm.
For the record, if you live in Alaska, the right time to buy your winter gear was about three days ago.
Don't worry mom, we are far from freezing. I do have my coat from last year. The one that I bought in Nearly Neon Pink because J had me convinced that if I got lost in a blizzard, I should look like a complete moron so I would be found quickly.
Now that I know I am not very likely to be somewhere that search and rescue would need to see me from the space shuttle, I am thinking of buying a coat in more subdued colors.
Beans received some great hand-me-downs... a full set of toddler arctic gear. And her Nearly Neon Pink gear (bought to match mine because if SHE got lost in the arctic wilderness, search and rescue would also see her from space and know she belonged to the moron in the matching jacket)... it still fits.
Little Nugget has plenty of warm stuff, and the truth is, um... we don't plan on doing any crazy glacier hiking or being anywhere that we need full arctic gear for her, so I think we'll all stay warm.
***
I will admit that seeing snow this early was a little tough to swallow. I DO love fall, and it just doesn't seem right to have the white stuff quite so soon.
But... it's Alaska.
And it didn't take long to slip into winter mode. Beans demanded snow boots nearly as soon as she saw the white stuff, and she and daddy had a good snowman building adventure before tromping slush through the house, demanding hot chocolates.
I spent the afternoon digging out hats and gloves for everyone else, and making a winter gear shopping list for our next trip north. This morning, temps were hovering around 20 degrees until well after the sun came up. 'Bout time for that new coat, I'd say.
Hold on tight, y'all! It's autumn in Alaska.
Also, anyone that can clear up the heated discussion about the advantages of pellet stoves vs. wood stoves (ha ha! "Heated" discussion!)... feel free to add your two cents. My personal opinion: why give up a free source of heat (wood stove) for something that costs about $5 a day to run (pellet stove)? Am I missing something here?
Until Next Time!
Happy Moose Trails
Sunday, September 20, 2009
Autumn Lights
I know, I know. It's still a day or so before the official start of autumn, but seeing how it's my favorite season, I'm ready to jump the gun.
Speaking of guns... hunting season is officially closed for all us non-subsistence hunters. We have caribou in the freezer, but no moose. J tried hard (and I have weeks of loneliness and insanity caused from being left alone with two kids under two to prove how hard he worked), but long story short... he didn't get a moose. Ah, well. It's about time for rabbit hunting, anyway.
There is a lot of local folklore about the beginning of autumn... the first day of school, the seasonal closing of the Drive-In, The start of hunting season, Snow on the Dome (which I can not confirm or deny, since the dome has not been visible much of this week due to rain). My own official start of fall is a little more, ahem... mystic. Fall starts when I feel a certain chill in the air and begin to smell wood stoves in the night. Those cues are followed by an insane urge to dig through my stash of crochet, knit, and sewing projects and find something to curl up in a chair with. When I suddenly interrupt the constant flow of coffee for a cup of hot apple cider, it's Fall.
That said, I should mention that my recent Autumn experiences have been in the Deep South. Beautiful days like today, where the temps hover around 48F and the constant rain slows to a drizzle, frankly is what Christmas in Alabama might look like. On a really cold year. (For the record, the last Christmas I spent in Alabama was 78F and sunny.)
If I had to describe a day like today to family, I would actually liken it to what a typical Halloween Day in Northern Virginia would feel like. (I mention Northern Virginia because that's where I essentially grew up.)
So, I HAVE been feeling the urge to nestle down with fall projects. I am one sleeve away from finishing a sweater I have been making... the first grown-up size sweater I've ever attempted. I generally stick to things for little people, but found a cute pattern. Besides, my blanket winning at the fair-and my mom bragging about it to all my relatives and telling me I should open an Etsy shop, kind of made me feel invincible in the land of crochet.
On the Moose Nugget Home front, great things have been happening. J might someday, eventually return home. Between hunting, overtime, and rumors of rabbit hunts and fishing trips, we haven't seen much of him.
Beans has been hard at work with home school activities. (Yes, I am homeschooling my two year old.) She's caught on quickly and really enjoys "school time", which frankly doesn't look too much different from the things we were already doing in our day, only a bit more organized and planned out.
We have also successfully completed potty training! Any kid (or grownup for that matter) that can "hold it" from Delta Junction to Fairbanks is potty trained in my book!
Little Nugget is growing in leaps and bounds as well. Not wanting to be left out, she has already figured out a little frog hopping crawl. Too bad she mostly goes backward. Many a photo opportunity is lost because she gets so frustrated that she's gone backward instead of forward. She is quickly learning to propel herself in the right direction however, which keeps Beans in a constant state of picking up and moving her toys away from her little sister.
Oh, yeah. The word "MINE" has entered our vocabulary in the Moose Nugget Household.
I hate the word "MINE" (unless it pertains to my stuff, of course!)
Beans was quick to call me on my own selfishness this week. I was preparing a bowl of coffee ice cream with chocolate syrup for no one except for me, myself, and I. Beans asked for a bite and I answered, "No, this is MINE". To my surprise, instead of the tantrum I braced for, I got a stern lecture. "No, mommy! YOU SHARE IT!"
Hmmm.... hope that ice cream was at least decaffinated. I was outwitted by a toddler.
More excitement is occurring in the Moose Nugget Household, but I'm not at liberty to discuss it...yet. I'm going with a friend's adage... "If you talk about the dream, you lose it." Just know that exciting things are in the air, and the Moose Nugget Farm could be less of a dream and more of a reality in the Hopefully Near Future.
Meanwhile, Little Nugget has propelled herself backward from every toy in the house and needs a hand scooting in the right direction. Beans is busy hoarding toys and screeching "MINE!" over who-knows-what-her-sister-tried-to-touch, and there is a rumor that J may actually make an appearance at home tomorrow, so I guess I'd better make it look like I've been cleaning and doing laundry instead of scraping school paste off the dining room table.
Mental; Note to Self: Don't ever leave the glue sticks where a toddler can get a hold of them.
Until Next Time,
Happy Moose Trails!
Speaking of guns... hunting season is officially closed for all us non-subsistence hunters. We have caribou in the freezer, but no moose. J tried hard (and I have weeks of loneliness and insanity caused from being left alone with two kids under two to prove how hard he worked), but long story short... he didn't get a moose. Ah, well. It's about time for rabbit hunting, anyway.
There is a lot of local folklore about the beginning of autumn... the first day of school, the seasonal closing of the Drive-In, The start of hunting season, Snow on the Dome (which I can not confirm or deny, since the dome has not been visible much of this week due to rain). My own official start of fall is a little more, ahem... mystic. Fall starts when I feel a certain chill in the air and begin to smell wood stoves in the night. Those cues are followed by an insane urge to dig through my stash of crochet, knit, and sewing projects and find something to curl up in a chair with. When I suddenly interrupt the constant flow of coffee for a cup of hot apple cider, it's Fall.
That said, I should mention that my recent Autumn experiences have been in the Deep South. Beautiful days like today, where the temps hover around 48F and the constant rain slows to a drizzle, frankly is what Christmas in Alabama might look like. On a really cold year. (For the record, the last Christmas I spent in Alabama was 78F and sunny.)
If I had to describe a day like today to family, I would actually liken it to what a typical Halloween Day in Northern Virginia would feel like. (I mention Northern Virginia because that's where I essentially grew up.)
So, I HAVE been feeling the urge to nestle down with fall projects. I am one sleeve away from finishing a sweater I have been making... the first grown-up size sweater I've ever attempted. I generally stick to things for little people, but found a cute pattern. Besides, my blanket winning at the fair-and my mom bragging about it to all my relatives and telling me I should open an Etsy shop, kind of made me feel invincible in the land of crochet.
On the Moose Nugget Home front, great things have been happening. J might someday, eventually return home. Between hunting, overtime, and rumors of rabbit hunts and fishing trips, we haven't seen much of him.
Beans has been hard at work with home school activities. (Yes, I am homeschooling my two year old.) She's caught on quickly and really enjoys "school time", which frankly doesn't look too much different from the things we were already doing in our day, only a bit more organized and planned out.
We have also successfully completed potty training! Any kid (or grownup for that matter) that can "hold it" from Delta Junction to Fairbanks is potty trained in my book!
Little Nugget is growing in leaps and bounds as well. Not wanting to be left out, she has already figured out a little frog hopping crawl. Too bad she mostly goes backward. Many a photo opportunity is lost because she gets so frustrated that she's gone backward instead of forward. She is quickly learning to propel herself in the right direction however, which keeps Beans in a constant state of picking up and moving her toys away from her little sister.
Oh, yeah. The word "MINE" has entered our vocabulary in the Moose Nugget Household.
I hate the word "MINE" (unless it pertains to my stuff, of course!)
Beans was quick to call me on my own selfishness this week. I was preparing a bowl of coffee ice cream with chocolate syrup for no one except for me, myself, and I. Beans asked for a bite and I answered, "No, this is MINE". To my surprise, instead of the tantrum I braced for, I got a stern lecture. "No, mommy! YOU SHARE IT!"
Hmmm.... hope that ice cream was at least decaffinated. I was outwitted by a toddler.
More excitement is occurring in the Moose Nugget Household, but I'm not at liberty to discuss it...yet. I'm going with a friend's adage... "If you talk about the dream, you lose it." Just know that exciting things are in the air, and the Moose Nugget Farm could be less of a dream and more of a reality in the Hopefully Near Future.
Meanwhile, Little Nugget has propelled herself backward from every toy in the house and needs a hand scooting in the right direction. Beans is busy hoarding toys and screeching "MINE!" over who-knows-what-her-sister-tried-to-touch, and there is a rumor that J may actually make an appearance at home tomorrow, so I guess I'd better make it look like I've been cleaning and doing laundry instead of scraping school paste off the dining room table.
Mental; Note to Self: Don't ever leave the glue sticks where a toddler can get a hold of them.
Until Next Time,
Happy Moose Trails!
Wednesday, September 2, 2009
Secret Moose Camp
I heard a phrase this week that sums up my life this month: Hunting Widow.
That sums it up, those two words.
*SIGH*
The good news is, The Mighty Hunter (J) has already returned with a caribou. More specifically, a caribou head. The edible parts are at Delta Meats, being processed into the ingredients for upcoming meals. Why the head is in the back of The Suburban (AKA, "The Junk Truck"), um, I'm not sure. Seeing as I am definitely the "gatherer" of our little "hunter/gatherer" team, I don't quite understand the concept of dead animal heads being kept for decor.
For the record, I am using my long history of being allergic to absolutely everything on the planet as the primary reason why this poor animal's head (or any other head, for that matter) will never get past our doorstep.
I made eye contact with the dead animal and, "I hope you taste better than you smell." Beans made a trip to the suburban with daddy and did a much better job at stroking the hunter's ego by oohing and aahing over the thing. I drew that line at showing the caribou head to Little Nugget.
Secretly though, I somewhat envy the ability to go out and shoot something. Being a hunting widow kind of makes you feel like shooting something is not such a bad idea.
And, for those in the lower, Alaskan Women DO hunt.
Maybe one day.
Meanwhile, I had my husband's company for about 12 hours before he turned around and trekked back to the woods on the search for moose.
For those that don't hunt, I'd like to share some new-at-a-husband-hunting wisdom.
The hunt begins with a month (or longer) of preparation. You have to sight in rifles. You have to ooh and aah over other guys' rifles. You have to come home three hours later than you promised to be home to give your wife a break because you are discussing rifles and hunting tactics. (Silly me. I thought the tactic was: Buy a gun. Find a moose. Shoot it. I was wrong.)
After your wife is thoroughly annoyed, you must then spend a week pushing her past the point of caring about a moose in the freezer by going to the woods and "glassing" for moose. This means you sit in the woods and drink beer with the fellas, and look for moose poop and stuff. This is very important. Somehow.
After that, you spend another week making sure your wife is completely losing her mind trying to hold down the fort by setting up you Secret Moose Camp.
A word about Secret Moose Camps. They are only a "secret" from your wife. From what I've heard, all the men have secret moose camps which are in plain sight of all the other guys' Secret Moose Camps. I am 90% sure this has something to do with making sure the beer is evenly distributed, but I am told this is not the case. I remain skeptical.
Only after your wife has threatened to run away and join the circus (which also coincides with Sept 1, the season opener for moose hunting), can you actually begin your hunt.
Or if you really want to go the distance and get your wife packing her clown suit in a suitcase, you tell her that you need to leave Aug 31, so you can already be in your Secret Moose Camp when the moose walks by at 12:01 am the following morning.
So now, we wait. By "we", I obviously mean me and the girls. Specifically, we are waiting for Barnum and Bailey to pick us up, because we have officially packed for the circus. At this point, I think the circus would be a relaxing change of pace. For starters, in the circus, you only have to worry about your husband falling off the tightrope. Not being eaten by bears, accidentally shooting himself, or rolling a 4-wheeler on himself.
I keep telling myself, "This moose is gonna taste great. It's totally going to be worth it."
But I'm not feeling it right now. Right now, I am a tired Hunting Widow who is totally going to begin planning my Secret Spa Camp.
Until Next Time,
Happy Moose Trails
That sums it up, those two words.
*SIGH*
The good news is, The Mighty Hunter (J) has already returned with a caribou. More specifically, a caribou head. The edible parts are at Delta Meats, being processed into the ingredients for upcoming meals. Why the head is in the back of The Suburban (AKA, "The Junk Truck"), um, I'm not sure. Seeing as I am definitely the "gatherer" of our little "hunter/gatherer" team, I don't quite understand the concept of dead animal heads being kept for decor.
For the record, I am using my long history of being allergic to absolutely everything on the planet as the primary reason why this poor animal's head (or any other head, for that matter) will never get past our doorstep.
I made eye contact with the dead animal and, "I hope you taste better than you smell." Beans made a trip to the suburban with daddy and did a much better job at stroking the hunter's ego by oohing and aahing over the thing. I drew that line at showing the caribou head to Little Nugget.
Secretly though, I somewhat envy the ability to go out and shoot something. Being a hunting widow kind of makes you feel like shooting something is not such a bad idea.
And, for those in the lower, Alaskan Women DO hunt.
Maybe one day.
Meanwhile, I had my husband's company for about 12 hours before he turned around and trekked back to the woods on the search for moose.
For those that don't hunt, I'd like to share some new-at-a-husband-hunting wisdom.
The hunt begins with a month (or longer) of preparation. You have to sight in rifles. You have to ooh and aah over other guys' rifles. You have to come home three hours later than you promised to be home to give your wife a break because you are discussing rifles and hunting tactics. (Silly me. I thought the tactic was: Buy a gun. Find a moose. Shoot it. I was wrong.)
After your wife is thoroughly annoyed, you must then spend a week pushing her past the point of caring about a moose in the freezer by going to the woods and "glassing" for moose. This means you sit in the woods and drink beer with the fellas, and look for moose poop and stuff. This is very important. Somehow.
After that, you spend another week making sure your wife is completely losing her mind trying to hold down the fort by setting up you Secret Moose Camp.
A word about Secret Moose Camps. They are only a "secret" from your wife. From what I've heard, all the men have secret moose camps which are in plain sight of all the other guys' Secret Moose Camps. I am 90% sure this has something to do with making sure the beer is evenly distributed, but I am told this is not the case. I remain skeptical.
Only after your wife has threatened to run away and join the circus (which also coincides with Sept 1, the season opener for moose hunting), can you actually begin your hunt.
Or if you really want to go the distance and get your wife packing her clown suit in a suitcase, you tell her that you need to leave Aug 31, so you can already be in your Secret Moose Camp when the moose walks by at 12:01 am the following morning.
So now, we wait. By "we", I obviously mean me and the girls. Specifically, we are waiting for Barnum and Bailey to pick us up, because we have officially packed for the circus. At this point, I think the circus would be a relaxing change of pace. For starters, in the circus, you only have to worry about your husband falling off the tightrope. Not being eaten by bears, accidentally shooting himself, or rolling a 4-wheeler on himself.
I keep telling myself, "This moose is gonna taste great. It's totally going to be worth it."
But I'm not feeling it right now. Right now, I am a tired Hunting Widow who is totally going to begin planning my Secret Spa Camp.
Until Next Time,
Happy Moose Trails
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