Moved In

So I finally made it out of the terminal ferry town. They opened the road in the afternoon and as I passed the giant snow plow/ gravel truck belly up in a ravine with all six wheels waving in the air my grip tightened on the steering wheel. One hundred and thirty-six miles is a long way to go when your top speed limit is 35mph. All thoughts of empowerment and hope that had been in my head after watching the US inauguration at the local bar - the only place open for breakfast at this time of year - had fled my head. All focus was on the road. As darkness fell and a blizzard blew up I was absolutely delighted to reach the next town on the road in the beautiful Yukon Territory. My shoulders were bunched up and tight from straining so close to the windshield. At the hotel resteraunt all of the plow drivers were discussing how to get that damn rig out of the ravine - apparently they had gotten the other 3 (!) out of the ditches they had gone in over the previous 5 days but this one was down a pretty steep slope and was proving a challenge. It may be there until spring, spring being sometime in June.

The next day was longish but familiar and I made it all the way to my new home. En route I passed the people who had slept in the hotel room next to me jack-knifed off the road with their trailer blown open at the seams. No one was there though so they had clearly made it to the next town over. Chaos ensued when I arrived at my destination, my rear sore from eleven days on the road (you may remember it took me seven to drive down in the summer). It took a few days but eventually the where's, the who's, the when's got cleared up and my stuff arrived from Los Anchorage and after I had put the pieces of my homemade bed together and dumped the frozen mattress on it and screwed together the pieces of the homemade cat scratching post together I hit the road myself, following the moving crew out to Los Anchorage. I had a shopping mission, and arriving there at the dinner shopping hour I was soon more then ready to get out of town and I headed out to my friend's who had the Disreputables. The Disreputable Cat had quickly taken control of the other dog who is a puppyhood friend of the Disreputable Dog. We spent the night and then headed to our new home.

I've been busy getting new mailing addresses, phones hooked up, internet services, unpacking and cleaning, sorting and making discoveries (why did I pack that?), and filling out paperwork at work. Showing up for work my first day was great - I had a very warm welcome from several people who I've worked with in the past and it felt like coming home. The Disreputable Dog has been so excited to have the scent of snowshoe hare and the, to him, perfect temperature of about 0 degrees F, that his tail wags constantly on our twice daily walks. The Disreputable Cat was fairly anxious the first couple of days but other then a new wariness of strangers she seems to have recovered. We had new snow on the weekend and I went skiing with some of my co-workers and then again the next day on my own. There's nothing better then being able to literally ski from your front door.

Day 1 on the road

Somewhere, when returning from field work to more "civilized" parts the song "On the Road Again" was playing and my co-worker turned to me and said "that could be your life theme song". And in some ways she was right.

Today's drive went well - Driving across country is a great way to transition into my new life from my old life. It's amazing how one can spend a whole year stressing over job applications and interviews and then suddenly it all comes together. At the start you tell yourself that this will be the case, that something will eventually work out that it is just going to take time but doubt does creep in. And then all of a sudden that patience pays off. So day one of a long trip...5 days on the road....4 days on the ferry....2 days on the road...and then my new home.

Recovering my Equilibrium

Thank you all for your travel wishes...I feel like I've been traveling for ages. I started Thursday afternoon....first I finished packing up the rest of the house, then I cleaned it, a snow storm moving into the area with gale storm warnings all the way to Los Anchorage. I had those hard goodbyes, the kind that hurt but that you can't not do. Then a drive to Los Anchorage, snowy passes and dark oceansides. I arrive at my summer weekend neighbor's who really live in Los Anchorage. They are storing all of my stuff in exchange for my shoveling the snow off their boats and because they are sweet people. They made me a halibut dinner and hot buttered rum and then another friend picked me and the Disreputables up. First we took the Disreputable Dog and his buddy Ziegra on a long romp. Ziegra and the Disreputable Dog go back to puppyhood in Fairbanks. After that this dear friend dropped us all off at the airport. Out flight wasn't really until Friday at 1am. It seems every flight out of the state is a red eye.

We flew for hours...flying from Alaska to the lower 48 is often like flying to Europe from the conterminous US. The Disreputable Cat proved to be quite adept at attempting to escape from her kennel. It wasn't because she didn't like the kennel, she loves it, but she got bored. Eventually I had to ask the flight attendants if they had any tape and had to tape the openings shut to keep the paws and cat head from popping out of the bag. I couldn't really fault her - she'd been in the car since noon the day before and needed to stretch out. On the other hand it prevented me from getting some dearly needed sleep and by the time we had laid over for three hours and gotten on our next flight I was ready to pass out from exhaustion.

We arrived at our destination in the Western Lower 48 around noon. Amazingly all of my luggage arrived (I was quite embarrassed for traveling with more luggage then I have traveled with in my entire life). Then we had a drive over the pass with my niece in tow. My niece was delighted to be in the same car as the Disreputables. I think she has been talking about them since she visited this last summer with her grandmother. My nephew, who is more cautious about animals was happier to wait for the arrival of his great grandmother and to caravan up (in altitude) with her and his parents. Another snowy, icy drive and we only arrived at my parents' around 10pm. I was utterly exhausted.

The next day was mostly spent monitoring children (my niece & nephew) and the Disreputables with my parents' pets. My parents have a dog one year old then my dog an a 17 year old cat who is currently suffering from kidney failure. They've met the Disreputable Dog and he is no concern to either but the Disreputable Cat and the Parental Cat have had a few exciting standoffs which the toddlers find most fascinating and which they wish to get involved in.

Today is the first day that I have started to recover my equilibrium. I am still exhausted and jet lagged but the amazing brilliant sunlight helps immensely. There is a swirl of family chaos and holiday plans to be involved with and when I get overwhelmed I take the Disreputable Dog and the Parental Dog for a long walk or take the niecenephew out sledding on my parents driveway. I am still grateful to all of the people who helped me move and I miss two people from Small Town South of The Permafrost dearly. I wonder, where will I end up? Where will I go? But I don't worry too much. I have applications out and I figure I won't hear much until the holidays are over so for now I'm on vacation. And today, I finally check my email and see all of your encouraging wonderful comments and am grateful for you readers and look forward to finding time to catch up with your blogs again in the next days.

Still Moving

Eighty mile per hour winds are whipping through the streets of town and through my mind. I feel discombobulated. There are so many things to do all at once and the deadlines loom fast and permanent. I'm having trouble focusing on where to start. My thoughts jumble around the way various blown objects are jumbled against more fast objects, such as the chicken wire that came from no where and somehow wedged itself under my truck in a way that would seem impossible.

This weekend was exhausting but a lot got accomplished and I am very grateful to helping hands. I had one good friend show up and help me with the marathon packing nights. Another good friend rode with me to Los Anchorage to get the U-haul, then back to Small Town, then packing, then back to Los Anchorage, then unpacking, then back to Small Town. Two other friends showed up to help pack the U-haul in Small Town and they also took the Disreputable Dog out for a romp while I was driving it. Two other friends are letting me store stuff in Los Anchorage in their shed, another one showed up to help us unpack. Everything went to Los Anchorage this weekend.

My house is totally empty except for me, the Disreputables, their respective crates, and the couch which I am selling. We sit there in exhaustion...me on the couch, they in their crates, all of us half dozing. There is still all of the little stuff to get rid of and the cleaning to do and the wrap up of the things at work. I am back to where I started when I moved here...sleeping on a cot in my sleeping bag. I've spent more nights in that sleeping bag then any bed I've ever had to lie in. And it is a thing of comfort for reasons I cannot possibly explain. Like everyone else in town the wind makes it hard for me to sleep. It's not so much that it's cold but that it's terribly noisy and you find yourself trying to scrunch beneath the bedding (in my current case burrow into my sleeping bag) with the idea of cold. It is bloody cold out there. When I took the Disreputable Dog out for his evening walk I thought I might just possibly blow away, leaning backwards against the wind to try and create some ballast. Fifteen degrees Fahrenheit (approx. -10C) and 80 mph winds. The feel of one's nose freezing and the skin cracking.

I leave Thursday, the day before the winter solstice, for the Western Lower 48 and family and holiday celebrations. I will be stepping off into mid-air, not knowing yet where I will land but I will not worry about it for now.

Packing House

I'm surrounded by boxes. Tottering piles of closed boxes lie in piles and open boxes lie in half hearted heaps where the Disreputable Cat finds them both excellent to chew on and to play in. I'm moving house this weekend (although I will be here another week) and I'm at that point where I wonder if I will get it all done in time? The Disreputable Dog has moved more times then he is years old and he sighs sadly at the sight of all these boxes and takes refuge in his kennel where no random assorted pieces will fall on him and where I won't trip on him. He knows me well, he knows that I will both trip on him and drop things on him if he doesn't get out of the way but this space is so small the only place out of the way is his kennel. Luckily he loves it. The Disreputable Cat however has never traveled and never moved. She thinks we are playing a fantastic new game involving lots of interesting new hiding places and new toys. She loves nothing best then to sit in whichever box I am currently trying to pack and she loves shredding the cardboard. I admit I am anxious and yet I am also happy. I think I am happy to be leaving this small town. There are things that happened here that will always leave scars, memories that are sharp as broken glass. Yet I also love it here and I am nostalgic about leaving, as I always am on moving, often even for things I never particularly liked.

It is hard to remember the holiday season amongst my moving although my sister calls me daily, more excited about this holiday then I can ever remember her being before. I am glad for this. I am glad to hear her call me and ask a brief question, something about a special food or baking cookies or making a special birthday punch for my grandmother and can I bring more animal pictures for scrap booking with my niece and nephew like I did the last time because they had so much fun doing that with me? She also tells me regularly that she hopes I move closer which is another new thing. I am both surprised and pleased to hear her express it. But amid the family's excitement that I will come and be with them is the personal underlying anxieties of not knowing where I will be next, when a job will come through, etc.

Today I packed much of my office. I wonder, those of you fellow scientists and other professionals, at what point do you not move all those papers you referenced for a project now past? It takes up so much space, so much weight, and yet, I feel a sense of obligation to take them with me. I've always been told how important it is to build up my own reference library of citations but is it really valid in a world where you can increasingly find what you need online? I have a strong temptation to build a bonfire with them but I still haven't published that last paper. So instead I'll store them in Los Anchorage and then go work on my paper in the lower 48. Does this make sense? I have no problem jettisoning things from other parts of my life but somehow the notebooks and the papers have different rules. What would you do?

Of course, I must admit that despite packing I took a little time out to indulge in making my favorite present to give one and all at this time of year. Look at those fantastic little boxes! One year someone asked me what my idea of a perfect present was and I said, two chocolate truffles in a fancy box and right there and then I resolved to make such a gift for others and it has become a holiday tradition for me. They don't ship very well though so they only go to people who I get to see in person. Now....enough procrastinating! I must get back to my packing!