Beneath the not quite half-moon: crazy conversation and good ice cream

There was some crazy conversation between Eagle River and Wasilla. I'm not going to try to recount it all, but part of it went like this: Jobe: "I'm Kalib!" Kalib: "I'm Jobe!" Jobe: "There's lots of Jobes." Kalib: "There's lots and lots of Kalibs!"

The moon was out, building to half but not quite there yet. "The moon will be full when we get to grandma's house," Kalib said. Jobe repeated this and then Kalib repeated it again and then Jobe repeated it again…

We stopped at Dairy Queen for ice cream and pulled out of the drive-through into the parking lot. There, Kalib licked his ice cream cone beneath the not quite half moon.

Text added at 8:46 PM. The Squarespace nightmare continues - day 48 and counting.

Dog on screen at Metro; bunny rabbits in the driveway; woman gets a grip on her pop; last post for the weekend

This afternoon, I pedaled my bicycle to Metro Cafe, ordered an Americano and sat at a table to drink it. A dog appeared on the TV screen and barked at me.

About 9:30 PM, I decided I needed a small Dairy Queen ice cream cone, dipped in chocolate. I asked Margie if she wanted to come and get one, too. "No," she said, "we can't afford it. But you go get one." It's true. We can't afford ice cream cones right now, but sometimes when you can't afford an ice cream cone, that's when you should go get one. Your creditors are going to have to wait, anyway. I thought we would be able afford ice cream cones right now, but sometimes businesss deals come together slower than they are supposed too. Hopefully, next week, we will be able to afford ice cream cones.

I did go to get an ice cream cone by myself, anyway, and on my way to the car I saw these two bunny rabbits in the driveway.

I found myself in line behind this lady at Dairy Queen. She didn't order an ice cream cone, but she did order soda pop. At least, it looks like soda pop. I didn't inspect the contents of the cup. I really don't know what is in it.

It is now late Friday night. I do not plan to put up a post Saturday night and maybe not Sunday night, either. I want to finish this other project I am working on, the project that involves the World War II B-24 bomber. I have been working on it steady for two weeks now and if it succeeds, it will have a $500 payoff, but that's beside the point. It is a story I must tell. This tiny story is only the beginning. I must make it into a book, and soon.

So, until the story is done, I do not want to think about this blog any further. I know I won't have the story done by Saturday night, but if I complete it and submit it early enough on Sunday, I will still blog that night.

I fall off schedule, so, here is springtime Wasilla: backyard moose, I stop to photograph a train before pulling into Dairy Queen and wind up in line behind "Tripp"; dog, boulders, fourwheeler

At a certain point this evening, I realized that I was not going to be able to make my goal of editing, preparing and posting my final Sujitha-Manoj wedding take tonight, so I decided to throw in a few Wasilla pictures - starting with this moose, who I found in our back yard. I will finish the wedding tomorrow.

As you can see, it is truly, finally, spring. The snow has mostly melted. Not completely - that's melting snow hanging from the moose's belly hairs, but it's mostly gone. Soon, it will be all gone.

A little before 9:30 PM last night, I felt like I just had to have a Dairy Queen ice cream cone, dipped in chocolate. Margie's sugar count had been high, so she declined to come. As I pulled into the turn lane off the Parks High to go to Dairy Queen, I saw this train coming down the tracks. There were no cars in the turn lane behind me, so I just stopped, waited for it to draw a bit closer, and then shot.

I was thrilled - overjoyed, you could say.

Damn! I just love trains!

And yet, I have never ridden the Alaska Railroad. I have now ridden the train in India, but not the train whose whistle I often hear from my bed at night, when air conditions are just right to conduct the sound from the tracks to our house - the train that traverses some of the most beautiful and grand country on earth.

Here is that train, right here, passing by me - and I have never ridden it.

After the engine passed, I looked in my mirror and saw a car pull into the turn lane a bit behind me, so I didn't stick around to photograph the freight and tanker cars that it pulled. I turned straight into the Dairy Queen drive-through lane, where I found myself behind a big, shiny, black, pickup truck with the word, "Tripp," emblazoned on the vanity license plate. The face of the driver was perfectly framed in the side rear view mirror. It was a pretty face, young and looked a bit familiar.

I thought about taking a few photos to show the truck, the license plate, the pretty face in the mirror and then the hands and face of the Dairy Queen girl as she reached out to serve her. There could be money in such a picture - and it is not as if the young lady who I figured was likely behind the wheel is not used to having people take her picture all the time, anyway, wherever she goes, her image being plastered on magazine covers and TV screens. Being a public figure, she is considered fair game and could not have legitmately protested - and probably wouldn't have, anyway.

Maybe she would have even been glad.

But damn! I'm not a papparazi!

And, with a few minor lapses, I have kept myself out of this absurd game - although one cannot live in Wasilla and keep himself completely out of it - or, indeed, the United States - and Barack Obama himself got drawn into the game a bit last night during the President's annual press dinner when he said pit bull's are delicious.

Yet, I figured maybe, at this moment, it was just possible the driver might just like to sit there in her truck and be served ice cream in peace. So I, who photograph damn near everything I see and mostly for free, laid my camera down upon the passenger seat and let what could possibly have been a money image - something I sure need right now - pass untaken.

Oh, well.

I saw this dog as I walked up Wards today. Look closely, and you can see the last remnants of Wasilla's dying snow.

Charlie came out today and brought 25 raven photos he had taken on a disk in CR-2 format. He has been invited to hang a selection of raven images in a raven First Friday photo show at the Midnight Sun Brewing Company in Anchorage. He figured he would hang about 15 and he wanted me to help him make the final edit and also to process the CR-2 RAW files.

I figured he was probably optimistic to think that 15 of the 25 would good enough to hang in the show. Maybe 8, I thought, ten if he had really done good.

Damn! We only removed two.

He did damned good.

Damned good!

I could not have put together a raven show like Charlie's!

A while back, he made it a goal to photograph a raven everyday.

The show goes up Friday and will hang for a month. Any reader who finds themselves in Anchorage during that time period and likes photography and/or ravens - go see it:

Midnight Sun Brewing Co. 8111 Dimond Hook Drive, Anchorage.

After we finished the photos, Charlie treated me to a coffee. Along the way, we passed by these boulders bordering this puddle coming and going. Somebody took a lot of trouble to do this.

Just beyond the boulders, we passed this guy on a fourwheeler, kicking up dust for people to eat.

In the dry periods, we eat a lot of dust in these parts. Outside, few people think of Alaska as dusty, but it is. Glacier dust - mixed with fine volcanic ash - the worst kind of dust you can imagine.