lilginks

Break up is occurring here at break-neck speed. It snowed all day Saturday; over in Anchorage, they were to get 5-11 inches, quite a range. Yet on the whole, it is quite slushy here, muddy in places. It was recommended that I walk the 2.5 miles I typically bike in order to meet my ride to work. I guess that is an option, no snow shoes required. I sit here drinking from a coffee mug that says "you're only young once--but you can be immature forever" promising no?

This month, I am working in a greenhouse for some local farmers. This job requires me to know that a bacoba looks different than a lobellia (pre flowers they look alike from afar). And that Canary Bird Vine, that is not Sweat Pea, although I do believe they both climb. I was told by my boss that "everyone knows what a Sweat Pea look like;" whoops. I love plants, green things are good for the lungs...take that in any way you want; point is, I love trying to identify all the Alaskan plants during the summer, but greenhouse plants are foreign to me; it's like being inside a spaceship. "We'll be using insecticide soon; please be aware earthlings." "Gently, move the soil to place the roots inside, they do not like to push their roots through packed soil." I learn a little bit each day.

More interesting really, is how I get to work. You already know that I bike from where I live to the main road, the Talkeetna Spur Road. My boss told me that one of my co-workers was going to need to pass by my road, so I could get a ride with him. I will call him Torrence. He was called by all Talkeetna people who know him, Jim, however he asked me to call him by his real first name. No problem. I told my boss that I really appreciated her "getting me hooked up with a ride with Torrance, Yo!" She looked at me cock-chined. "Who is that?" For a moment I wondered if I was being abducted, after all it did feel like an alien spacecraft I entered every morning...the so called Greenhouse, yeah "Oh, well, he asked me to call him Torrence, not Jim." She looked at me, suddenly fear striking her dirt covered features. "Yikes, maybe he wants everyone to call him Torrence." Turns out, he does.

I made some assumptions before I met him. One, that he would have a truck in which I could throw my bike in the bed. (Poor Grammer, I apologize.) It turned out true. Secondly, I thought he would be a man who lived in a kind of isolated way. This was also true. In a year, he has come into Talkeetna town once. I like him, he puts up with me in the morning and after work when he drops me off for my uphills climb home. In the scheme of things, my abductions go well.

  I had spoken with my mom earlier; she had called to wish me a super Tuesday; I cut her off explaining that we have a caucus in this state, not an election. Our Primary is in August. She asked me if there was anything I wanted to tell her; this is how she asks me what I have been up to. It is interesting really, because, nothing at this time is new; I am still living with my partner/boyfriend, I still bring in wood for the wood stove, use the outhouse and help fill up the generator now and then; nothing much. I enjoy it, simplicity, I just wonder if I have driven her away. These are thoughts I share, hope all is well
  She is in Georgia, I am in Alaska; the differences are vast. I hope the relationship does not develop a void that wide.

On Saturday, I competed in a ski race in Talkeetna. I was so excited to get out on my skate skis. Lately, thanks to working at the outdoors store over the holidays, I have been classic cross country skiing. My skis stay parallel. My dear significant other is quite comfortable on his and therefore a decent teacher. Tonight, as it is dumping outside, I chose to ski classic because one does not need a groomed trail, quite nice. Back to the race.

I had skied to the Fairview to register a little after noon, and another race participant drove me up the hill to the starting point of the 5K and 2K. I chose to do the former because I have done one before; I thought it would be like riding a bike, you know, like a comfortable pair of jeans. As I completed the first 2.5K, I noticed that there was a large crowd at the end. I started on my second lap and realized that I was alone. It was me, the hills, and my skis. I finished five times slower than the first place finisher. I hare and boned (is that the expression) up the hills, I meandered, I daydreamed, I enjoyed the views of the Alaska Range and the Tokoshas, I was slow as molasses. In the end, everyone cheered. It was kind of them, I felt like making up excuses: "my skis need a waxing...I'm out of practice...I got lost..." In the end, I personally think that I just didn't book it up the hills as I was supposed to. I did sprain my knee skiing into town that morning, however, really, it's just me, Grace, being a bit goofy. What's that you say, everyone was done with the race twenty minutes ago? They even swept the race for me. In other words, skiers, wooshed by me after they had done their two laps and had time to rest and maybe even plan the rest of their winter while waiting on me.

Ah, Talkeetna, don't wait for me. It is funny that people here have told me to slow down, perhaps they are wishing they had not said that to me.

Someone said to me that I sounded bummed, that my entries didn't seem happy. I thought, good someone reads this, and then, wait a minute: I am happy. Life is an adventure, and it is good to have moments and situations that challenge. Except for the next two weeks, I live where every morning I look at mountains, I walk through snow to get to the bathroom, and I stoke the fire and add wood to stay warm. These are good things. One can't go wrong with this setup. Plus, I have someone in my life who can make me laugh when I don't feel I am making it work. Again, I can't go wrong. 

A word is just a word. I live with an artist and I believe that my words are sometimes just little pitter pats on his consciousness. I am here, looking at the rawness of winter, the snow, the ravens. I want to share all this with those I love who are not around me right now. For now, I will just say that I see every sunrise and sunset with new eyes.