Snowy jumps off the bed in the middle of the night because somewhere in the distance is the sound of a dog barking. He responds by barking madly, trying to wake me up to what is a clear and present danger in our lives. When I refuse to see that imminent danger, when I refuse to jump out of my warm bed to let him out so he can scare the demons away, he finally turns sadly back towards his bed. He has done what he can to save me. When that terrible thing comes bumping into my night, it
As we enter that time of year where many men overeat and then sit in front of the tv watching a football game with their pants unbuttoned and often also unzipped, may I make a plea from the other half of humanity. WEAR LOOSE PANTS OR PANTS WITH ELASTIC WAISTS. Have some pity on those of us trying to digest food and gagging at the sight of your unbuttoned pants.
I thought I’d written something both yesterday and Sunday on the blog. At the time I was taking medication for vertigo. I can only assume that I did, in fact, write those entries but that I was writing them on the blog in my head and they never actually made it out of there. Yep, getting old is fun at the best of times. Getting old with vertigo… priceless.
Due to the unfortunate timing of a bout of vertigo that precluded me from getting on the plane to fly to my 50th high school reunion, I found myself stuck at home and not able to move much without a lot of nauseating dizziness resulting. So I decided to watch a movie as a way to kill a few hours while sitting quietly. In some weird tribute to the reunion I’m missing, I watched Jersey Boys. They were the background sound of my teen years. And they were from Jersey and Italian. What more could I ask? I was fine
So we know that African elephants have now reached the tipping point towards extinction because the number being born each year does not equal the number being killed by poachers. Yet the NRA opposes closing a loophole in federal law that allows ivory to be imported into this country if it is “fossilized” claiming it is another scheme to take away their guns by denying them ivory handles. So when they have killed off all the elephants, what kind of handles will they make for their guns?
Packed to travel out to the reunion last night. Realized about ten minutes into the process that I probably should have done some clothes shopping.
Does a twenty year old Kivgiq sweatshirt count as business formal wear if you add earrings?
Will people in the lower 48 ever understand Alaskan fashion sense?
Will bunny boots ever really work as dressy shoes outside of Fairbanks?
Quick, I need answers to these questions before Saturday.
As the date draws nearer for my 50th high school reunion, I keep wondering how all those people got so old when I didn’t. Hell, I’m still not sure what I want to be when I grow up. Maybe a super model….
This is a special picture for all my old Barrow friends who follow my blog. I know you’ll remember Fran. She served the best Mexican food north of the Arctic Circle and did it with flare for over thirty years. She’s still alive and kicking as this shot shows when I visited her recently. Don’t tell her I posted a picture with her hair looking a little messed. I’ll never hear the end of it.
Thank you Sandra Hopson(!) Stuermer for my beautiful new parka, just in time for the holiday season. And what a stunning ruff. She was taught by the best.
My brother (standing) and my Uncle Joe in his beer store circa 1970/80 something. This is currently hanging in the best specialty beer store in Newark, Delaware. Called The Delaware Growler (48 East Main Street Newark, DE 19711 302-454-7695), you won’t find a greater selection of those little beer breweries that people into beer really like. And if you go there, you’ll see the original of this stunning picture showing two things… that selling beer is simply in our blood and my brother should not sport a mustache.