The far end of the couch - or - how wonderful it was to suffer this horrible ordeal; how sad, how lonely, to be getting well

Please do not misunderstand what I am about

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800 Sarah's Way, Wasilla, Alaska: For sale?! - I launch a new project in the hope I might save the memory, if not the place itself

No, my surgically-inflicted wounds did not suddenly heal enough and I

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Mosquito bitten face and other belated Father's Day images

When I returned from Grotto Iona on Father's Day, I found that my

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We bury our little Pistol-Yero, then celebrate Mother's Day

Readers who were with me then will recall that my ornery, sweet, loving, little buddy, Pistol-Yero, died unexpectedly while I was in Jaipur, Rajasthan, India. I had wanted to bury him after I returned, but the snow was so deep, the ground so frozen and Melanie was working up north, would not be home for a month and it seemed that everybody should be here.

The snow is melted now. Melanie is back and everyone was coming out to the house Sunday. There is still a lot of frost in the upper layers of ground, but Rex is strong and so, using picaxe and shovel, he punched through it.

Muzzy and Akiak engaged in a long running contest to see who could keep the stick the longest.

In respect for the Navajo beliefs of their mother, Jobe, Kalib and Lynxton could not come near the body of Pistol-Yero and would have to stay inside for the funeral and burial.

It may be a small hole, but given the conditions of the earth here, it took a long time to dig - probably close to an hour. Charlie arrived and spelled Rex for bit. Akiak seemed to dominate the stick game.

I unwrapped Pistol-Yero, put him on a blanket that he had enjoyed in life and brushed his fur. Lisa came out as I finished and wanted to see him.

I then carried him to the back. Except for Lavina and the boys, everybody gathered around for the viewing and final pets.

Margie came out a little late, as she had been helping Lavina with the boys.

Then we headed toward the far reaches of the backyard, where, in the course of 30 years, we have buried a good many of our fur-clad family members - because that's what they are - family members.

Everyone told a favorite story about Pistol-Yero. Margie is talking here. She is saying how she always wanted to keep him off the bed and especially the pillows, but he always got on the bed and pillows anyway and she came to know that he really liked to have a nice, neat, clean bed and pillow to lie on. She also noted how Pistol had usually stayed away from her, because he always liked to hang with me and she would do things like chase him off of beds and pillows, but there were a few times when she had been sitting on the couch and he came to her and sat on her lap and let her pet him as he purred and that was special.

Melanie took her turn filling in the hole - first we did it by hand, then by shovel.

And finally, covered it with stones. Rex and Charlie had dug up this boulder during one of my forays into the house. Caleb placed it on the grave and we piled the smaller stones around it.

Lisa disappeared and then reappeared, carrying three blossoms from a Mother's Day bouquet Melanie had bought for her mom.

Rest in peace, sweet little Pistol-Yero... life is not the same around here without you. You would probably be sitting between me and my computer screen, right now, as I made a regular post about Mother's Day.

We then headed back up to the house. The boys came out and set a tire to rolling.

Kalib set the tire to rolling again as Lavina cooked. He scored a direct hit and knocked Rex down.

Kalib was very pleased, so he rolled the tire back up to the porch to see if he could down Uncle Rex again. He would succeed.

Jobe raked the house.

Corn, mushrooms and peppers were added to the grill. Soon, we would feast in celebration of Margie and Lavina; in celebration of mothers.

As Jobe turns Terrible Two, his cousins (and several mostly unseen adults) gather to eat his cake and ice cream, and play in his Thomas the Train

Today was Jobe's birthday - two years old. "Terrible two." He's been practicising the Terrible Twos for awhile, his mom said.

Speaking of his mom, here she comes, carrying Lynxton into the room. Wait a minute! Something's off here. Lynxton does not swaddle in pink. Tiny as he is, last time I saw him, Lynxton was not this tiny.

Something is definitely off here.

Ha! It's not Lynxton at all! It's Ariel! Lynxton's newest cousin, born six days ago to Lavina's brother Anthony and his partner, Julie.

And look! There is another of Lynxton's cousins, Gracie, who hitchiked by herself all the way up from Shonto, Navajo Nation, just to help Jobe celebrate his second birthday. Readers who were with my old blog two years ago will recall that Gracie had hitchhiked up by herself then, too, to help Lavina care for baby Jobe and Kalib. Gracie got so attached, nothing could keep her away today.

Here's Lynxton - in his grandmother's arms.

Kalib wrestles with his cousin Gracie. To my surprise, I found Gracie's mom, Laverne, elsewhere in the house. She is going to help Gracie care for Lavina, Kalib, Jobe, Lynxton and Jacob while Margie goes off to Arizona.

This is one of the two cakes that Margie baked late last night. Then, we thought the party was going to be held at H2Oasis, Anchorage's big indoor water park. That's why I made the comment about Jobe getting wet. But Jobe was feeling not so well earlier today, so the party was moved to the house.

Margie outdid herself with this cake! Made it from scratch. It was the best cake I have eaten this year and maybe last year, too.

Jobe received a Percy the Train lamp from Margie and I. When one is two, even terrible two, there is magic in such a lamp.

Others want to hold Jobe's Percy lamp, but, being Terrible Two, he runs away with it, screaming.

His parents gave Jobe a fold-out Thomas the Train engine. For the moment, Jobe was not that interested - but his cousins and big brother were. That's Julian tumbling backwards out of Thomas.

Cousin Gracie, Kalib and Ariel's big brother, cousin Ashley in the Thomas the Train fold-out engine.

They went wild in there.

After Margie and I entered Wasilla on the way home, we found ourselves overtaking a train. I hoped we would reach the engine before we had to turn right at Lucille Street, but we didn't. Still, I'm pretty sure that it was Thomas pulling these guys.

Smiling, rough, tough, super-strong Thomas the Train rolling through Wasilla, Alaska on the day that Jobe turned Terrible Two.

Tomorrow, I return this blog to October, 1988 and the Great Gray Whale Rescue.