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This was the very best sort of Footballsburg morning. It's cool enough to pull on my old favorite jeans (which lost their left knee in a parking lot fall, but remain in otherwise perfect condition) and a tank top, and walk the dog in sandals. We strolled downtown to check the mail, then went on to the Farmer's Market. It was busy there, but Kiska reigned as beauty queen supreme, with hordes of small children following parental prompting and asking if they could pet. She soaks up the attention, and is an excellent canine ambassador.

I spent $20 on peaches, tiny, perfect Asian pears, fresh apples, oatmeal bread, and sunflowers. We went to the coffeeshop, where the owner plucked me and my Dansko travel mug out of the line, confirming only that I wanted my regular (2 shot Americano, with room) before getting on with things.

And we walked home, me sipping good coffee and listening to a favorite music mix, Kiska stalking squirrels.  I have much to do this weekend, since I took my break during the week, but I also have plans with friends. This may not be home, but on a barely crisp day with a hint of fall, looking at the vase of brilliant sunflowers adorning my desk, I can glimpse why people love it here.
redzils: (Default)
I am in Homer.  My drive was fine, although it feels weird to do a trip of that length without at least one mammal panting on me and needing to stop for pee breaks at tennis ball friendly places.

There was a black bear in the Girdwood Tesoro parking lot, so essentially I stopped for a Coke and got a free bear encounter.

Text messaging appears to get all wonky going over the pass, and I am not sure it ever started working again.  [profile] learethak, [personal profile] crisavec, etc, if you got multiples or messages that seem out of synch, blame AT&T.

The boringest part was between Kasilof and Anchor Point, as the light started to fade and the terrain dulled.

Four years of life on the interstate highway system, with occasional forays onto the Washington-Baltimore beltway, have made me much more comfortable stomping on the gas to pass unwieldy trucks, boats, and general lollygaggers. When I started driving back and forth to Fairbanks in college, passing any cars at all required pep talks, white knuckles, and hastily summoned courage.  Now passing pairs of semis just requires a dotted line.

Coming down the hill into Homer, looking out over the spit, the bay, the mountains, and the glaciers, is always breathtaking.  It's a high overcast tonight, and the light is fading to blue.  All the blue (sky, ocean, clouds, sky) and white (snow caps of mountains, glaciers, reflections on the water, clouds) is amazing, and even the air feels special.

Kiska was delighted to see me and did the yip-while-bouncing-in-circles thing.  My mom came out on the porch to say hello, and looked deliciously at home in her bathrobe, surrounded by her daisies. They took our older dog in for a "haircut" and she got shaved - all her fur is about a half inch long and there is a stupid green kerchief around her neck.  She looks very foolish.

There is a momma moose with a baby in the brush alongside the driveway, and they browsed probably 30 feet away as I unpacked the car.

It is good to be here.  Tomorrow should be great fun, as I visit the weir site and dance with the Shiverring Gypsies for the first time in a year.
redzils: (Default)
Honeys, I'm hooooome.  I left Balmer at 8:30 pm, since dinner was a little late, and got home at 2:30 am.  Hurray, and goodnight.
redzils: (Default)
Made some phone calls today.

The lawn service (aka:  Marvin) is done mowing my lawn and will let me know how much I owe him tomorrow. I need to send him a check.

The electricity is no longer in my name.

I cant get renter's insurance until I figure out the address for otherHeather's house, but the agent will call me tomorrow to move on that.


Kiska has a reservation to ride in the airplane cabin when we fly east in August. 

She passed her therapy dog test in October, but being Delta registerred is not the same as being a service dog. I inquired about having her fly in the plane then and realized I could probably take advantage of the ticket agent's lack of understanding, but didnt want to do something ethically questionnable. 

Then, on this last trip, I took her all over Regan National Airport with no problem and the women at the customer service desk in Seattle urged me to take her on the plane (after seeing her in her vest and checking her ID).  Between those successes and my continuing worry that the airline is going to kill my dog by leaving her on the tarmac in the heat for hours during a delay, it seemd like time to take her onboard.  So, I called and made her a reservation. We will ride in the bulkhead row window seat, with her curled up at my feet.  I won't tow a roll-on suitcase: I will carry a laptop bag and a shoulderbag with Kiska's stuff.  Not having the dog crate will make travelling so much simpler, and I think she will fly like a champ.


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November 2010

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