Waiting to Exhale

"Attention is love, what we must give children, mother, father, pets, our friends, the news, the woes of others. What we want to change we curse and then pick up a tool. Bless whatever you can with eyes and hands and tongue. If you can't bless it, get ready to make it new."

--Marge Piercy

It's been one week since we as a nation came together and swung open the doors to a new day. People are writing, talking, sharing what this all means. What having for the first time in our country's story a person of African descent leading us forward says about how far we've come and where we are headed. Yes, I know that this matters. In insurmountable ways, electing Barack Obama as our 44th president matters.

I'm not sure it is for mainly these reasons though that I find myself getting caught off-guard this past week by sudden well-springs of emotion; a tight squeeze of the heart from some unknown force, followed by cleansing tears. It happened again today, on forested trails above my home, while watching these autumn days turn. The gusts of wind tossing countless leaves dancing into a nickel-gray sky. Care-free cascading towards solid ground, and then, together en masse, they begin to do the work they are here for, work which will continue throughout the dark winter months ahead, necessary work for the greater good of this planet.

There is a stirring about, the world in a collective exhale. Finally, we can all breathe again. We've been waiting for so long, waiting to know what our future holds. And for so many of us, after years of dread and doubt, shame as we watch greed and narcissism tap-dance upon a world stage, there is finally a reason to celebrate. To be proud of our leaders and how they represent us. I am seeing it, feeling it all around me. From the mouths of the poets upon the stage, in the music of Ozomatli on a Friday night, in the sincerity of a letter scripted by a young child to her future president, the "thumbs up" from the driver next to me at the light...in the smallest of ways I sense the power of hope restored in a people, and with it a determined will to land on solid ground together, to do the work that needs to be done. Ahhhhh!!


"This is the blessing for a political victory. Although I shall not forget that things work in increments and epicycles and sometime leaps that half the time fall back down, let's not relinquish dancing while the music fits into our hips and bounces with joy our heels."

--From the Art of Blessing the Day by Marge Piercy

Holy Dome, Batman!

I love my siblings dearly, let's just make that very clear right here from the get-go. And like any healthy familial relationship, there's bound to be a little bit of sibling rivalry. Seems like in the past year our brotherly/sisterly battles have included extensive remodels on the properties we each own. We coincidentally leveled the playing field by each hiring a contractor by the name of Brian. From that point on, that's just about the only thing we've had in common. You would think that Dug's complete remodel of a Vietnamese restaurant into a popular bistro that serves up tasty pacific northwest cuisine to happy customers (http://www.agatealley.com/) is the hands-down winner of this "all in good fun" competition. However, last weekend my younger sister, Sarah, may have just taken the prize when she and a dozen of her friends and family erected a geodesic dome that, when done, will rival the living space in my 1,200 square ft. humble abode.

It could not have been a better weekend weather-wise and with "all hands on deck", literally, things went together pretty smoothly.

D

A

D

I missed the first day's events so only took part in the heave-ho! aspects of getting the roof on. In actuality, I did a lot of holding, tugging, and looking-up.

The plan now is to finish the insides with a loft, bedrooms, running water, electricity, and a wood stove. With the work she's already had done on her home, and now this new living space, we all know we've got a place to go when this economy really starts to crumble. It's a visual dichotomy to be sure. I'm so proud of my sister and how she's continued to create the kind of space that she wants for herself on her property. The horses, goats, chickens, dogs, and barn cats only add to the appeal. No wonder

Waldo never wants to come home!

Say Moose!

Here it is, barely October and we've already accomplished so much this school year. The kids are busy creating a presidential campaign of their own, complete with four political parties, campaign workers, headquarters, candidates, and platforms. My class decided they are the "Green W.O.R.K.S." party, (working on restoring key systems) and have researched issues related to the economy, foreign affairs, social welfare, education, health care, and the environment. What a better place this world would be if some of their ideas came to fruition! Being around these young people gives me confidence that the future is in good hands.

They love our "moose breaks". Wish you could have heard the laughs and conversations generated from the "Tangled Moose Photos" I showed them off the Anchorage Daily News website.

Ginny Sue

Mom left us two years ago this past Friday, the same day of this year Paul Newman made his own great escape. He was her favorite, Butch Cassidy and the The Sting are probably the two movies I remember most from childhood.

"Raindrops keeps fallin' on my head..."

We celebrated her and all she did for us with an afternoon picnic of fall harvest fruits and cheeses, her favorite wine and a bit of frisbee...of course.

Is there any place more beautiful late September than a Willamette valley hillside?

Farmers' fields of tawny gold
a checkerboard of slumbered orchards and coastal fir
dried leaves, their curled edges catch a breeze, float solitary to winter resting places
as migrating flocks overhead push their way southward.

How lucky am I to have family close by, to still be able to laugh and play together
spontaneous games of "coaster golf" through the house with Dad and brother
a trip to the beach
late night concerts at the Crystal and walks through Sarah's woods
talks over the news of the day

She'd be happy to see us this way
It's just what she would have wanted.

**Photo taken this weekend at Oceanside, OR**

XIX

This weekend's trip to Waldo Lake marks nineteen consecutive years of visits to my favorite place in the world. While friends paddled across, Waldo and I hoofed it around (he carried the wine and shrimp fajita fixings) and we met up at a great backside camping spot. Left yesterday afternoon in what my dad would call "a fine Oregon mist", noticing how light my heart felt...haven't felt that since AK. Copious amnts of huckleberries this year...winter stash now within easy reach in my freezer.

Richard left us this week...from his favorite spot in Canada, just like I knew he would.

Summer Zephyr

Hey All,

Since returning to Portland, some of you have asked to see more pictures from Alaska. I am happy to oblige as doing so reminds me of all things good. Sorry it's taken awhile. Now that the crazy whirlwind known as "Back to School" has been downgraded to the consistent gale force wind patterns that will carry my students and I through these next nine months together, I've got a minute here to post a few of my favorites.

Speaking of my 26 kiddos, we are having a grand start to the year. Already found several opportunities to integrate what I learned at the MRC into lessons. More later. Susan

Alaska

Thank You,

ALASKA!


Susan

Two Worlds

Arch Angel Valley in the Talkeetna Mt Range is a dichotomous world of infinite strength and heartbreaking fragility. 360 degree views present rocky ridgelines, massive boulder fields, carved canyons and the pebbled remnants of former glaciers; ageless tales told on the grandest scale. While underfoot, tiny shoots and blooms, frilly lichens and tufted moss whisper stories of new life ever-changing, richly woven tapestries of time one could (and did) get lost in with a simple, nose-to-earth repose.

Caryn, pointing to a tiny yellow dot in the far-off distance..our tent!

We played and explored, read and slept, chatted and laughed, in awe, at the beauty all around. Here, in this arena of contrasts, perfectly integrated into one.

And, naturally, finished up with pizza and beer at the local brewery...the Moose's Tooth!

Fish and Fjords

After an attempt to catch a Kenai King salmon was thwarted last week due to hooking one through the dorsal fin, (see An Epic Tail) I had another chance this past Monday as I once again was a lucky member upon Tom's driftboat. The weather was beautiful...sunny...not necessarily conducive for salmon fishing so we took our time out on the water and waited until the sun started to set before getting into some of the prime spots along the river.

Through some random MRC cabin conversation, Annie and I discovered our moms had something in common as we both had childhood memories of a food they would make for us called runzas. It had been years since I had enjoyed one of these tasty meat-pocket sandwiches so I made

up a batch at Tricia and Jared's place that morning and brought them along for the ride. They paired well with our BB Porters.

A couple hours into the float, when the pole bent sharply and I started to reel in whatever was on the line, I had flashbacks of last week's battle and wondered why the other Kings that the boat took in prior didn't seem to give the other folks such a hard time? Was it me and my meager upper body strength? The counter-intuitive way this leftie was reeling? Yet another futile fight with a dorsal-stuck fish? Eric, Tom's friend and a fishing fanatic, was a patient coach as he watched me "reeling" in this sea monster (Annie's term), looking more like someone trying to open a can of chunk tuna than land a fish. I just couldn't go any faster. He said he understood.

It was a fun fight! And, a big fish! 50 lbs big! I guess it was a boat record, making the catch all that more celebratory for all on board. We all caught fish on this last fantastic evening of driftboating for the 2008 season; mine, kings also for Eric and Tom and a silver for Annie.

I just spent two days in and around the town of Seward, the gateway to Kenai Fjords National Park. Would have loved to have gone kayaking or visited the kennels of Iditarod musher, Mitch Seavy, but both of those will have to wait until next time. Instead, did a great hike up to Exit Glacier and the Harding Icefield. Along the trail heading up to the "toe" of the glacier there were date markers indicating where the glacier was each year, stark reminders of how far it has receded. Met other solo hikers, Amanda and Jordan, at various spots along the way and we hiked together the last 1/3 of the way or so, enjoying the warm weather and views of this ancient relic from the last ice age. Now, I'm all the more excited for tomorrow's backpacking trip into the Talkeetnas with Caryn, Tricia, and sweet-dog Olive.