All's Well on the KP

This update is admittedly long over due. It seems like I’ve only had this writer’s block for a couple weeks. With the help of a few motivational tongue lashings from several loyal readers, I am determined to pound something out. With any luck at all I can do like ‘Seinfeld’ and entertain you with a lot of nothing much.

The biggest new is about our little volcanoes watch. While the volcano alert has been reduced to a watch, and there continues to be diminished, yet measurable seismic activity. The possibility of Mount Redoubt blowing its top is now in doubt. Yes, the once imminent eruption has phased out from hours to days to months and now, most likely not at all. Even the school district has let down their watchful guard. We recently got word we could discontinue the ritualistic nightly wrapping of all our classroom computers and electronics in protective plastic bags. I won’t miss that to be sure, but I must confess the hoopla brought a little excitement to what has become a long and uneventful couple of months.

We’ve been here over nine months now, and life in Alaska has gradually just become life. The biggest differences are that the sights on the morning and evening commutes. The morning drive requires keeping a careful eye out for moose instead of the whitetail deer I am most familiar with. I’ve hit my share of deer before, but I really don’t want to take on a moose. Unlike most whitetail, moose aren’t too concerned about sharing the road with anyone. If they want to cross, they will; and they will take their own sweet time of it, too.

In the evening, on clear days, I am blessed with the mountains and Cook Inlet. I love Wisconsin, but there is something to be said for the mountains. Every day is different. The strangest thing is how the mountains seem to move from day to day. One day, lay off in the distance as a grand edging for the inlet. Other days, the mountains look as if they are encroaching onto the bluffs. It seems as if they can double in size. If I hit the sunset right, the mountains keep the intensity of evening hues hanging in sky as if they are one and the same.

Some days are not so clear, and the roads are ice. One those days, I entertain myself by counting how many cars are in the ditch. Again, maybe it’s a Wisconsin thing, but there is something about slowing down that just makes sense. I got an email today that perhaps explains this phenomenon. It had to do with winter statistics. Evidently, 98% of the people that go in the ditch yell out “Oh SH$^^”. The other 2% are from Alaska. The yell, “Hold my beer, I want to try something”. The ditches seem to be full of them. What’s more, the same vehicle will stay in the ditch for weeks on end. I guess like the moose, they find no real need to hurry and get off the road.

So, while the days are getting longer, the end of winter is still a long ways off. Now that the volcanoes adventure is simmering down, the highlight of our week is usually a visit with Sarah, Jesse, and the kids or a road trip to Soldotna to buy supplies. I’ve come to the conclusion that this phase of the adventure is dealing with the fact that there is no real adventure at all. All in all, that’s good enough for me.