Chariots of Frolic

We did it! We went dog-sledding. In Whistler, British Columbia. And it was amazing!

It was a snowy day on Saturday --- monstrous-sized flakes, wet and heavy. The kind of snow that can build up very quickly. About 14 of us piled into the "Outdoor Adventures" van in Whistler and headed out of town. Our young driver maneuvered the 15-passenger van up a deeply-rutted logging road, taking us deeper and deeper into the thick woods.

As we arrived, 7 teams of dogs stood lazily along a long wooden railing. Each dog was chained to the railing. Some of them took notice of us, while others snoozed undisturbed. Wow, they're smaller than I expected. The guide explained that these dogs were bred for strength not speed. We'd be using a team of four dogs, two for intelligence (up front) and the back two for power. The dogs in the yard were part of a kennel of 300+ dogs. "They're professional athletes," our guide commented, "and we treat them as such. We know each of them by name, and we build relationships with the dogs."

After a review of the sled (always gain access and get out of the left side), we learned the importance of braking with both the foot brake and the anchor. "Be sure to hold on tight as you released the anchor brake. And try to lift it back onto the sled quietly--the dogs know the sound and will be eager to just take off!" He also told us to be ready to serve as the "fifth dog" if we were the musher. If the sled is going uphill (and the falling snow was quite sticky), don't be surprised if the lead dogs look back as if to say, "Hey! Are you gonna help us or what?" That would be the signal for us to jog (off the sled, between the runners) to not only take some weight off the sled, but also to help to propel us all forward.

Aided by several other guides, Mark invited each of us to go to meet our team. Al and I wouldn't have a guide on our sled (which we were really excited about!).

Our power dogs were Four-Square and Tuba. None of the dogs is neutered so in addition to just being excited about running the sleds, the dogs were quite also interested in each other. In fact, on our team, Tuba (the dark dog) was about to come into heat and wanted Four-Square to know it! She kept enticing Four-Square who was just going crazy. See??



Fox (a beautiful orange and black dog) and Wiggles who seemed rather mellow, were our lead dogs. . Lots of physical contact with our team would help them to work for us. Eye contact! Eye contact!, our guide encouraged.








Wiggles was so relaxed it was hard to make eye contact.



I settled into the sled after we decided that Al would mush first. The snow was really coming down hard; we knew it would be a beautiful journey. One of the guides helped to attach our dogs to the leadline -- Fox and Wiggles up front, and Tuba and Four-Square at the rear. While each additional team was hooked up to its sled, the cacaphony of howling and yipping got louder and louder. Everyone was excited, mushers, passengers, and teams alike!


We were the third sled in the caravan and Hike on! Off we went, gliding up the hill and onto the trail.




It was beautiful and serene in the woods. We followed a trail along the river. The trees were heavily sugared with snow -- it was breath-taking. As I'd been warned, my view of the dogs didn't change much -- ha, ha! Since Al was standing on the back of the sled, he could see the river. I knew that I'd get my chance on the return trip when I would mush. Members of our team stopped from time to time to pee or poop -- but they always jumped right back into line and took off without much hesitation.






Beth and Jon were a couple of sleds behind us, and we did pass them just after the turn-around loop. Here they come! Beth was mushing -- Jon was lovin' the ride.

All of the sleds stopped just past the turning loop so that we could change mushers. Al set both brakes as I not-so-gracefully spilled myself out of the sled, and placed my feet onto both brakes to relieve Al. He scrambled into the sled, velcroed it shut, and off we went! What a thrill! As I placed one foot out to "skate," it slipped on the snow-now-ice and I wondered whether I'd be much help to the team. A bit farther down the trail, where we began a long, low incline, I jogged (successfully) between the runners and the dogs sensed my help. I'm sure I had a smile on my face the whole time which Al tried to capture with his camera.

When we returned to the base, each pair of dogs was given a big bowl of warm water and chicken broth. We gave a biscuit to each dog which they gobbled voraciously. Two more rounds of guests would go out this afternoon, and a second set of teams would do those two runs. These dogs are smart; they knew their workday was done. We thanked them with lots of hugs and pats. Dog tails wagged enthusiastically as each team was moved from their sled leadline to the railing. We thanked them for their hard work!





We visited briefly with a few the young pups who would be part of next year's teams. They're purposely kenneled near all the action a few times during the week so that they see what's in store for them. Sometimes they seemed to care and imagine their future.





At other times, a nap was just too delicious to think much about anything.




Our only regret was that our time on the sled was so short -- we traveled a total of 7 km. Wish it could have been longer --- thanks, Fox, Wiggles, Four-Square, and Tuba! We'll definitely have to look for some dog-sledding opportunities back in Maine. What a thrill!

Tweet Tweet Twaffic Jam

Yes, the snowflakes are still flying here. But the birds know better. Thank goodness.

There are dozens of birds at our feeders. Dive-bombing in and out -- barely missing each other as they flit back and forth from the feeder to nearby branches. Sometimes they meet each other in a stand-off, hovering miniature helicopters, until one surrenders the perch.

We're filling the two tube feeders every other day -- and that's without any squirrels emptying them out. The squirrels have been relegated to the leftovers. You see, we've got picky birds -- they actively discard the "white seeds" (we're still not sure what they are --- we thought it was millet but no, it's something else. . . ) which they drop to the happy little red squirrels below.






The goldfinches are starting to recover a hint of their yellow.









The house finches are becoming rosier by the day (hour?).
























The nuthatches' gorgeous apricot chests nearly glisten.




The juncos are jammin' with their friends.










Mama and Papa Cardinal puff out their feathers while courting in a nearby early-budding branch.










And, huzzah! The black-capped chickadees are gorging in preparation for mating season.

We've purchased the 10 foot pipe upon which we'll mount the nesting box (and camera!) very soon. Al will be swinging the sledge hammer through the frozen ground...maybe later this week.

And was that a mating call I heard early this morning? Oh, yes! Spring can't be far off!

Turn, Turn, Turn

Last weekend I took two days of spinning lessons. Wheee! No. I wasn't on a bicycle. I was using a spinning wheel to turn fiber into yarn.

I love fiber. No big surprise there. For many years I enjoyed counted cross-stitch. All those colors of thread. And I've been a hooker . . . er, . . . um, . . . RUG hooker for at least fifteen years now. In recent years, hand-dyed wool has become all the rage. Spot-dyed wool, with lots of swirls of color, is my favorite! Really...isn't this gorgeous? And now...I knit. Just about every day. I like to have several projects going at once, so it's good that I have a couple of fiber arts that I love.

Some years back I took a couple of spinning classes and purchased a wheel. My teacher had several angora bunnies and it was amazing to watch her spin the fur right off a bunny she held on her lap like this. No, I didn't get a bunny of my own; I knew better.

Alas, the wheel gathered dust and eventually I gave it to our daughter, Bethany. She had taken up knitting (self-taught -- amazing!) and welcomed the chance to spin some of her own yarn. That wheel now lives in Vancouver, B.C. (I have visitation rights!)

Earlier this past fall, I asked my sister, Lee, if she'd like to sell the spinning wheel she had. She did! So for several months I had a beautiful piece of Americana on the landing at the top of the stairs. The wheel smirked and whispered at me each time I passed by it....Psst! Remember me? Are you gonna DO something with me??

I signed up for a two-day "Intensive Beginning Spinning" class at Halcyon Yarn! After the December session was snowed out, it was rescheduled for February. What a treat! The teacher, Rudy Amman, a retired HS math teacher and assistant principal, was a delight. Luckily, he came fully-equipped with the patience of Job. There were six of us in the class -- all women -- and Rudy guided us through two days of fiber play.


We started with spindle spinning to get used to the fiber and what we could (or could not) get it to do. Eventually, we got to the wheels and we learned to spin "singles." A singles (isn't that weird, that in its singular form it ends with an s?) is yarn that is just one strand. Soon, we learned to ply, or twist, two singles together to make two-ply yarn. It was such fun and for the most part, very, very relaxing. Here is some of what I spun . . .


I purchased a bit of fiber to bring home and practice with. I hope I'll be able to find a bit of time to spin each day.


And for those of you who are enjoying the emerging "green" grass among puddles of melted snow, here's
what we're still dealing with . . .

and we're expecting more tomorrow. Ugh. Enough already!

Go, Mets!

We celebrated our 34th anniversary last night. If anyone had ever told me that we'd be attending an opera together, I'd think they were a bit daft. As it turns out, we LOVED it!

Live at the Met is a program whereby the Metropolitan Opera broadcasts performances in high definition to theaters all around the world. We attended an "encore" performance of Thais and we were enchanted.

The leads, baritone Thomas Hampson, and soprano Renee Fleming, were exquisite. And neither was too hard on the eyes. The story was easy to follow, and English subtitles were displayed at the bottom of the screen. Placido Domingo was the backstage host, and he interviewed the leads just moments after they'd left the stage, between acts. They candidly shared the challenges of their respective roles and talked about the dynamic relationship of their two characters.

They also interviewed the costume mistress, who spoke in detail about the creation of Thais' breath-taking gowns.






We had backstages passes to watch each of the scenery changes (more than 100 stage hands!). Amazing! The sets are massive.

In a couple of weeks, I'll see Madama Butterfly -- LIVE from the Met. I've been warned to bring plenty of Kleenex. Can't wait to see it.

Hope you'll consider checking for a Live from the Met performance at a movie theater near you! You won't be disappointed. I promise.

A Feeling of Newness . . .

There's a bit of spring in the air. And a spring in my step.

I've begun to ease into our new lifestyle -- at a new, slower pace -- and it's beginning to feel good. Actually, GREAT!

I'm back into some things that I've always found to be precious...but always told myself, I didn't have (or deserve) time for "now."

I'm reading again. For pleasure. (Did I hear a gasp?) With only the crackle of the fire in the woodstove, or maybe a bit of classical music playing quietly in the background, I'm luxuriating in the pages of books. And I'm lovin' it! A good friend recently recommended "Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Pie Society" (by Shaffer & Barrows) and it's delightful. I just finished Carol Ann Lee's The Winter of the World. I've got a huge pile of books I want to read. Can't wait.



I'm giving myself permission to knit and rughook. I'm working again on Dean's rug (actually, it'll be a wallhanging) and it's great fun to see the progress! Here are the rooster and the bunny.













I've started this sweater for our daughter-in-law in this delicious yarn; it's baby alpaca, wool, linen in a very soft terra-cotta color.










We're going to the opera! I'm so excited -- we have a "Live from the Met" theater in nearby Ellsworth. To celebrate our 34th wedding anniversary, we have tickets (Al's such a good sport!) for this Friday evening's encore performance of Thais. (O.K., admittedly this one won't be really live!) Then, I'm seeing Madame Butterfly with a friend in early March. I haven't seen an opera in about twenty-five years, have started listening to opera much more, and I am prepared to be thrilled.

I've rediscovered my love of cooking and baking. And I've tried canning for the first time ever! There's nothing like homemade blueberry or peach jam, and there are LOTS of vegetables and grains that I've found surprisingly yummy. I try at least a couple of new recipes each week. Granted, much of this is due to the contagious enthusiasm and creativity of two other women in the kitchen -- our daughter, Bethany, and our daughter-in-law, Laurelyn. They've inspired me to explore some wonderful new flavors and fabulous new recipes. (Disclaimer: You know you have way too much time on your hands when you actually spend part of a morning sorting, hole-punching, and filing all of those printed-out recipes into a nifty new notebook---WITH DIVIDERS!)

I spend a good deal of time watching the birds. This week, they've become incredibly active --- perhaps it's the boding of spring. I won't delude myself into thinking we're done with the snow quite yet. But I do know that within the next few weeks, we'll put the chickadee house and its webcam out in the yard! Last spring, while still in NH, we thoroughly enjoyed closely following Mr. and Mrs. Chickadee and their 7 little hatchlings; Al wired the webcam to our TV and we'd check in on them constantly. With all the chickadee activity here in Bass Harbor, we may need to put up several nesting boxes.

Tiny patches of dirt peek through the ice and snow in the driveway. Tiny buds bedazzle birches. The air smells clean. Each new day holds such promise. Life is good.

Reacquainted with an Old, Yet New, Friend

Recently, I received an e-mail from a friend with her new e-mail address. She sent it to everyone in her address book and all of the addressees were neatly listed in blue. I quickly scanned the list and spotted the e-mail of an old, dear friend with whom I'd lost touch.

I eagerly sent him an e-mail and hoped for a response.

The response I got was unexpected. And shattering.

He did indeed send me an e-mail. In fact, we sent many back and forth that day. Across his seven e-mails, it became increasingly apparent that something was wrong. Some of the writing was clear and cogent as I'd always remembered his writing. But interspersed, within each e-mail, were bursts of foggy, nonsensical language. At first, I thought it was a horrible joke. But with each subsequent communication, the pattern continued and my suspicions bloomed into a hideous bouquet.

My dear old friend has Alzheimer's. And he invited me for a visit. I desperately wanted to see him and knew I should pray boldly. Would he really remember me? I reread his e-mails and searched for glimmers of recognition. Did he really know who he was writing to? I phoned his wife the next morning and the plans were made. Yes, things have changed, she said in a small voice.

And a wonderful visit it was, indeed! My friend greeted me at the door with a familiar twinkle in his eye and a strong, healthy bear hug. He and his wife hosted me for lunch and we visited for nearly two hours. He asked about my husband, both of our grown children, and wanted to know about our grandchildren, too. There were moments of hazy confusion but his wife and I chattered nervously, our rapid words beacons in the conversation.

At the end of our visit, we hugged and kissed again and planned for my return in the not-too-distant future.

Upon arrival home, I wrote another e-mail. I thanked my old friend for a wonderful visit.

And so far, I've received two e-mails in response. Small pools of clarity. Jagged chards of tangled words.

For now, I'll wade in the shallow pools and step carefully over the broken glass.

So Long, Mr. Daschle!

Come on, Tom! Is our United States tax code really that hard to make sense of?

I do not understand how folks holding public office and hoping to hold even more prominent national level public office can be arrogant enough to think that they can get away without paying their federal income tax in full. Can they possibly think it would never be uncovered?

And then there's Nancy Killefer. And I still can't believe that the Treasury Secretary Timothy Geithner nominee got confirmed.

I'm flummoxed.