SPIDER. Okay. So hopefully you've heard that age old wisdom about not getting a bunny for your kid on Easter. That although it might seem like a grand idea, the holiday inspiration will soon wear off and you'll be left with a high maintenance mammal to care for... bad plan. Well apparently J Leslie did not get the memo, because two Saturdays ago he went to PetCo (yes, we have one within 15 miles... some parts of Alaska are not really that remote) and purchased a large hairy tarantula, just in time for Halloween. It is, in theory, for his science classroom ("I'm doing a unit on spiders!") but of course it had to come home to our house to "adjust" first.
Adjusting...
So later that Saturday Indigo and I take off for our annual Mommy-Daughter-Retreat and have an absolutely lovely time at a B and B in Homer, soaking in the hot tub, thrift store shopping (Indigo is like a fabulous 5-year-old personal shopper; it's amazing. "Momma, this is totally your style... try it on. Really, try it on. You'll love it.") baking and decorating and eating donuts, beading, paper crafting, movie watching and generally reveling in our mutual girly love. And we return home to Kenai, turn on lights, open curtains and begin to settle in. UNTIL WE NOTICE THAT THE TARANTULA IS NOT IN HER TANK. Mind you, J has gone off pack rafting (see last blog post) and isn't expected home for several hours. Again, THE TARANTULA IS LOOSE IN THE HOUSE.
Pause for a moment and consider what you would do. Leave? Stay and look for it? If you can't find it, do you just continue about your business, cooking and eating and showering and sleeping? (Think "Accidental Tarantula Stew," Tarantula shampoo, Tarantula crawling in your mouth on an exhale!!!!!) My mind is racing... J is going to have to call in to work and use a personal day and stay home to look for the spider. We're going to have to sleep at a friend's house until he finds it. Or maybe sleep in a zipped up tent in the living room. But then again the looming shadow of the spider on the outside of it in the morning might be too much...
Well Indigo did not pause for a moment; she leapt into my arms, screaming, "Pick me up! Pick me up! We have to get out of the house!!!" Now when we'd gotten home, we had noticed that ZigZag was honkered down in a corner of Indigo's room, very interested in a particular area near the base board heater. With Indigo in my arms, we crept into her room and pulled aside her stuffies and toys. ZigZag was nose to heater, his hackles raised. I went into the kitchen, set Indigo down on the counter top ("Momma!!! Are you sure it can't climb onto the counter?") and grabbed a flashlight. Back in Indigo's room I shined it into the base board and sure enough, the hairy beast was crammed against the metal corner, legs scrunched, presumably avoiding the whap-whap paw of the cat.
With some patience, a good old fashioned large glass ball jar, and some leather gloves, we managed to get the Tarantula back into her tank. ZigZag is still considered the cat of the hour, a protector, a hero, and deserving of all our attention. If he hadn't cornered the spider, our last week would have been significantly different. And Indigo and I are pleased to report that the spider is happily enjoying life at the Kaleidoscope School of Arts and Science.
Two hairy beasts.
BEARD. On Wednesday, October 29th, Halloween Celebration Day at Kaleidoscope School, J Leslie called in sick and a substitute teacher appeared in his stead. This clean-shaven, short haired, handsome man had a slight German accent and was quite a snazzy dresser. J Leslie has not been seen since.
DAYS... SNOW. I had intended to type a post tonight anyway, (If you're curious about the process, I sort of happily drift through my life in Alaska and when a theme emerges or I am struck by an inspired thought, I pop open a bottle of wine, fire up the machine, and give 'er a go!) and then it began to snow and that absolutely sealed the deal. Without further ado, I offer you Indigo's reaction to the fluffy white bits whipping and whirling about this afternoon (video likely needs to be viewed on the actual blog site):
I was at yoga (Can you believe it, our little neighborhood has a dance studio that offers excellent drop-in yoga classes... all civilized and stuff!) and peaked out the windows after Shavasana to see the storm. A quick walk home using my yoga mat as a sort of snow shield revealed the rest of Team Leslie in an uproar, singing and dancing and reveling in the official switch from Fall to Winter - in mid-October!
Freshies on Mt. Redoubt
DAYS... WORK. On to the intended content... I don't know if I've explicitly mentioned this before, but both J and I are teachers up here in the Kenai Peninsula Borough School District. J teaches K-6 Science at the charter school where Indigo is a Kindergartener, and I teach 9-12 Science as a Distance Learning teacher. "Distance Learning" is a funky title so I'll explain: I teach about 150 students from all around the district via courses that exist predominantly online. A student in Seward can do a virtual Biology lab at 2AM while a student down in Homer can video conference me in Kenai over breakfast about Physical Science. Given that I'm a people-person fueled by human contact, I thought I would hate it; I love it. I watch students accelerate, discover their own learning path, take risks, and shine from some of the more remote places in our country.
The reason I bring this up, is because recently I decided to "make the rounds" and actually physically visit as many of my students as I could. This involved doing lots of driving (not too shabby a task - think gorgeous mountain and ocean views, great restaurants to refuel, after "school" hikes with friends, etc) but it also required flying; some of my students live in villages only accessible by boat or air. Now unlike some people, I LOVE getting in a tiny plane and lifting off. In this particular instance, the pilot cued into my enthusiasm and let me sit up front, "help" fly the plane, and blasted Bon Jovi over the head-set radio system (He asked what music I liked. I said classic rock. He said he had Christian Country or Bon Jovi. You understand.) The thing that I found remarkable is that we had a very diverse crew on the venture: all in education, yes, but folks from admin, computer tech, accounting, assessment development, and me. But when we all had our headsets on and began chatting (Bon Jovi automatically mutes when someone speaks, thank goodness!), the topics of conversation were all about the natural world and personal observations:
Admin: You seen many bear on your flights lately? Pilot: Yup, although they were missing for awhile... turned out the berries came a few weeks early and they all headed up to the mountains. Accounting: Yeah, I noticed that... We've been able to pick for the past month at least! Big ones too! Pilot: Yup, and when the bears came back down, their coats were especially thick - I reckon winter's gonna come early. Development: Other signs of that too - have you seen the moose? Pretty as can be... and most mamas with two babies... must have been a strong summer. Techy: Fireweed's gone completely to seed in the last few days... Seen any snow on the mountain tops yet? Pilot: Yup, I know that pass has seen some white stuff... 'specting more soon.
I thought it was pretty interesting that no matter what profession you have up here, most folks are in tune with the seasons and wildlife. My kind of place. Meanwhile, we're flying over both ocean and land, including the snake-like Kenai River. I noticed these dark oval-shaped objects in the turquoise water but wasn't sure what I was seeing, but I had an idea.... On my drive home from the airport, I went over the Kenai bridge and confirmed - seals. Saltwater marine mammals, they'll swim a fair way up the fresh water river to snag salmon, and apparently they're visible from the air!
Looking down over Kenai (and Indigo and J at school!) en route to home.
DAYS... PLAY. I think I mentioned or at least showed photographic evidence that Team Leslie has been increasing our fleet of gear. It started with a fat tire bike (able to ride like a tank on sand/cobbles/beach-surface as well as snow and ice) and now includes a pack raft. Mind you, pack rafting is something I, at least, had not heard of before moving up here, but we are now savvy, enamored and committed. Imagine a personal white-water raft, complete with spray skirt protection, paddle and inflation bag, but only weighing a meager 4 pounds. Yes. This means you can take said gear, literally throw it in your day pack, and hike up some crazy trail to the head of a creek, and float your way out. How fun is that?!?! (Team Leslie thinks it's very fun.) If you're not convinced, J rented one over the summer, before said purchase, and was able to do the following adventure in a single day:
Park Ice Cream Newton.
Hop on a whistle stop train.
Get off the train at a trail head, pack raft in back pack.
Hike for a mile to a glacier-fed lake.
Hop in the pack raft.
Paddle between glacially-calved ice bergs and descend the river, white-capped mountains and wild flower meadows abounding.
Get back in Ice Cream Newton.
I could make the whole credit card "priceless" reference but I'll spare you.
Our garage, or should I say gear shop?
Prepping to hit the lake...
NIGHTS... ECLIPSE! Hopefully we are not alone in having witnessed the recent lunar eclipse. Team Leslie set our alarms for ridiculously early in the morning and hustled outside to observe. After quite a while admiring the "blood moon" shadowed by the Earth, we turned around and discovered the Northern Lights were dancing all about, and a few shooting stars decided to add to the splendor. Well worth a few extra yawns at school the next day.
Sky Night.
NIGHTS... DARK! Having celebrated the Autumnal Equinox last month (complete with our annual Potato Parade), we are officially slipping into the 6 months of darkness. Great for sky-viewing, as was aforementioned, but otherwise a significant hit on after-school activities. Both Indigo and I dance inside once a week - Jazz and Contemporary/Belly respectively (don't laugh), and J gets out for his daily beach fat tire ride, but now we're digging up the headlamps and adding blinkies to the bikes to safely make our ventures. Candle-lit dinners, slippers on the cold kitchen floor to make morning coffee, and talk of adding more mood-lamps to the living room. All the stores are selling Christmas lights, but we haven't bit... yet.
Ready for the parade, new potato flag and all!
In all our splendor...
Chillin' on the beach where the taters were roasting... Yes, sometimes J wears wings.
