White: It's the New Blue

This is the top of a 4 foot chain link fence.

I know snow is precipitation, but we do not call an overabundance of it on the ground a flood, so I'm beginning to think about the end of the world.  I know God said He would never flood the earth again, but the Bible says nothing about smothering it under a blanket of snow.  Maybe I need to apologize to the ancient Mayans for my immediate dismissal of their end of the world theory.  From here, it very much looks like God just might be starting on His plan to destroy the earth with snow.  Yesterday alone we added nine inches of snow to a total of which I have long since lost track.  The forecast for later this week:  more snow showers!  I have decided the colors we have assigned emotions in our society is a little off.  Blue should not be the color to represent sadness.  Blue is the color of the sky when the clouds are not hiding the sunshine from view.  It is a happy color.  White, the color of the snow and the over zealous clouds that deliver it, is the true color of sadness.  Should the world still exist next winter, when I peek out my window in the morning and my eyes widen and twinkle while the little kid in my excitedly whispers "Snow!" (and we all know I will), I will most likely deny having ever harbored ill feelings toward the sparkly magic that is snow.  Today, however, I am praying that global warming will pick up the pace a bit.

Obie is keeping the snow down to 3 feet around his fence.
He's enjoying the increased space.

Snowman Migration

I have never been a superstitious person and, to be completely honest, usually scoff at those who are.  I remember well frustrating a specific friend for refusing to draw an imaginary "X" across his windshield after a black cat crossed our path.  (How can anything related to a kitty be bad luck any way?).  That said, the never-ending snow has made me rethink a few of my attitudes.  I took my snowflake decorations down before Christmas break just in case they were encouraging snow, but many of you are aware of my 100% success rate with magic snowflakes, so I'm not calling that superstition.  That's caution.  My adorable little snowman made of paper snowflakes who's been greeting visitors at my front door, though, is uncharted territory.  I've never made snowmen before so I have no data to examine and hypothesize their impact on the weather.  This being the case, I decided to err on the side of caution and take him down as well and, while yesterday was Snowman Burning Day according to the Wacky Holiday Calender, I didn't have it in me to burn him.  He was far too cute.  So this morning I put him in an envelope with a few of my previously mentioned snowflakes that were too pretty to toss and sent them to Missouri.  Now I realize this may affect the unusually warm temperatures down south and am prepared to accept full responsibility for any winter relapse that occurs.  I will not, however, have any regrets.

Swan Lagoon

So it's no secret that I've been singing the "Spring Blues" lately.  The sun keeps peeking out of the clouds to tease us into thinking spring is on it's way just in time for yet another snow storm to roll in and tell me that winter is here to stay for a little while longer.  My tulip bulbs are sprouting at an excruciatingly slow pace so I'm not sure that they'll have bloomed by the beginning of summer vacation.  My dad was super and sent pictures of my flowers back home in Missouri that are doing very well, making me wish I could be there to see their progress.  I already know how each day would go were I there.  Each morning I would walk through the yard to see any changes from the night before.  Each afternoon I would resist the urge to walk through again reasoning that there would be little change in 4 hours.  Come evening, however, I would be walking through to view any new growth or blooms from the morning, only to begin the process again the next morning.

While I can't see any pretty flowers blooming under the four feet of snow in my yard, I do get to see come pretty cool stuff from my window.  We have a family of swans who've chosen Nanwalek as their winter home.  I would say we have our own swan lake, but they've chosen the lagoon rather than the lakes, so instead we have a swan lagoon.  I've never been a bird watcher, but I find myself scanning the lagoon through the binoculars from my window each afternoon to see if they're in view.  My guess is it's a swan family, because we have several ugly ducklings who haven't yet turned white.  Maybe I'm humbled by my mud puddle duckling background, but I think a family of swans living close by is pretty special.

Rewriting Love Songs

Mike shoveling snow

"We don't get a lot of snow . . . "  I've been thinking of those words a lot as I rewrite "All Out of Love".

I'm so sick of snow
I wish it would melt now
I'm ready for spring
And desperate to get out

The kids were sliding down the hill until Mike started
shoveling snow, then they decided trying to catch the
falling snow would be more fun.

Each day I watch the snow continue to pile up and step by step swallow our stairs down the hill - sorry, I couldn't resist the pun, but the snow really is gradually covering them up one step at a time.  I've given up trying to keep track somewhere around 12 or 13 feet we've had this year, but I'm sure that's a minimum.  Yesterday we had several visitors at the school who intended to go home at the end of the day, but ended up finding places to stay for the night.  Rafael (the 3-5 teacher) had Eric (he's in the village often working in small groups with the kids to improve learning, the teacher who'll be here all week teaching the PE classes how to dance, stayed with the principal, the superintendent of small schools stayed with us, and I'm pretty sure we had one more who slept at the school.  This is not an unusual situation for people working in the village schools so most bring a change of clothes, toothbrush, and towel just in case.  Fortunately for those eager to get out, the skies stayed clear enough for a flight this morning before it began snowing again.  It also took a break this afternoon long enough for Mike to haul our trash off to the dump and think it was safe to shovel of the stairs we can still find.  I think he was back inside all of 10 minutes and the sun shined down happily on the village while it dumped large snowflakes on us.  As many times as it has poured rain and/or snow on us while the sun teased us, it shouldn't surprise me anymore, but I still have a moment of discontent with its taunting.

Our freshly shoveled stairs
two stairs, a platform, and
another stair are lost at the
bottom.

Bad Weather Magnet

So I've heard some women say they're a "loser magnet", but I've never heard of a bad weather magnet before.  I'm beginning to wonder if Old Man Winter has a thing for me, because he seems to follow me everywhere I go.  This weekend the weather forecast called for sunny skies all three days, but the sun seemed only to shine in the places I was not.  We had to fly out early on Friday as bad weather was trying to sneak into the village.  Most of Saturday morning I couldn't see the mountains across the bay from Homer - which is unbelievably bad visibility.  Sunday, our third "sunny day" according to the forecast, we caught an earlier flight because we were done with everything and ready to go, which turned out to be good timing, as it was the last plane for a little while.  Yucky weather rolled into Homer as we left and followed us to Nanwalek shortly after our arrival.  It seems that wherever I am, bad weather finds its way there regardless of what the weather conditions and forecast would suggest.  Do I have a weird weather stalker?  Or maybe I have some strange effect on the weather?  I do make magic snowflakes . . . Now I've just got to learn how to make magic sunshines.

Sorry - Been studying!

So I know I've been a very bad blogger this week and apologize for having not posted anything this week.  I had not one, but two Praxis tests Saturday and have been spending every spare minute cramming every little tidbit of knowledge my brain will hold.  Fortunately, I am not finished and can kick my feet up to relax and enjoy the amazing view from our cabin.

The week has had some noteworthy activities and events beyond my studying.  We got to see the Northern Lights for the first time ever on Wednesday night.  I peeked Thursday night to see if they were any better for the Solar storm, but looked too soon and missed them.  I hear they were spectacular, but I was already asleep in bed when they began their dance across the sky.

I'm not sure if they came out last night as the weather was less than cooperative.  We were scheduled to fly out at 3:30, but the airport called a little before 11:30 and said if we really needed to get out we had better get out on that flight.  Since the testing session began at 7:30am and the first flight doesn't leave the village until 8:30 there was no opportunity for a second chance this morning so we took the flight.  The weather looked descent from the school, but the flight left no room for doubt about their decision.  It was windy and pouring snow, but our pilot is very good at what he does so the trip wasn't too bad.  Rafael had to take his Praxis I and was hoping to get back this afternoon, but Nanwalek is currently experiencing a white-out so he may be spending the night in Homer.

Pictures from the Plane

Our trip out last weekend gave me an opportunity to take some pictures so everyone can see the amazing view I get while conversing with Jesus.



The village from the plane

Port Graham, just around the corner

Landing in Seldovia before heading to Homer

Homer

Homer spit, this is only about half of its length.  There are
tons of tourist businesses, hotels, and fishing stuff at the end.
These guys are brave or crazy.

Kachemak Bay

Landing in Nanwalek