GOOD MORNING ON THE EVE OF A NEW YEAR

Glenn and Anne's hut at NARL

Ah...I haven't written for some time now but somehow it feels right this morning.  I'm sitting at my pine desk after a wonderful night's rest in my own bed.  It’s wonderful to have taken this for granted in the past but to find renewed joy in it now. Contrasts and change seem to heighten a sense of gratitude for me, pushing me into a pleasant and welcome state of mind. 

I just recently returned to my apartment after enjoying eleven days of  house/cat sitting out at one of the huts at NARL, the old Navy Arctic Research Lab.  Big Boy, Anne and Glenn’s smokey-gray, long-haired, affectionate feline was in need of companionship and feeding as well as were the two fish in the large murky tank and the multiple, active, chubby worms in the indoor compost bin. All-in-all, it was a great eleven days.  The hut is quite large although it looks small from the outside. I’m still washing clothes by hand at my apartment, a weekly ritual that is time consuming, although not unpleasant.  It was extremely satisfying to put loads of laundry in the hut’s washer and dryer and spend time creating or reading, all the while chatting with Big Boy instead of agitating, rinsing and wringing clothes by hand.  Some things I don’t wash by hand…my down comforter and big Arctic jacket so the gift of being able to wash them was very real. 

Anne and Glenn warned me that the pump on the fish tank was in need of replacement before they left.  The water was still and dark and as I fed the fish each morning and night, my hopes that they would both survive until the new pump was installed were mixed. On Christmas day, the small fish with red markings went home to be with the Lord and all the fish that have gone before him/her. It was sad seeing its small body floating on the surface of the even darker water in the tank, but I’ve learned long ago that some things are just not in our control. 

Big Boy made sure that he survived my stay by insisting that breakfast time was close to 4 am, even on the weekend (ugh!). I insisted that it wasn’t and told him that I’d be up around 6 to feed him. It took some effort to wander off to sleep again with yowls of displeasure floating back and forth along the long hallway between the kitchen and the bedroom but I knew it was somehow in his best interest, and definitely mine, to not engender a habit of early morning feedings.  Its dark 24 hours a day now in Barrow, so it’s very understandable how Big Boy could mistake the right time for his first meal of the day.  It’s dark even at noon, so he was most likely taking his best guess.  I discovered around day seven that if I gave him a few treats before bed time, he would last until at least 5 am and sometimes 6 am. No wonder my bed here feels so incredibly pleasant.  I actually slept until 8 am this morning although I thought the book on the end of the bed was Big Boy sitting on my legs. 

One of the great benefits of house sitting is the use of a vehicle.  I embraced the opportunity and very happily became available to take friends to the airport, share a lift to church on Christmas morning, to the Eskimo drumming and dancing on Christmas night and to drive a coworker to and from work along with myself. Others without vehicles, like me, normally walk in the subzero weather or take a taxi to and from destinations.  How wonderful to share a vehicle for this period of time. 

Saint Patrick's Church

Osakas Restaurant with friends one afternoon

Barrow street one mid-day

On the eve of Glenn and Anne’s return, I stopped at the gas station to fill the tank.  The low tire indicator light had come on and off occasionally the past few days, so not wanting to appear irresponsible, I pulled up to the air pump, pulled off the cap on the low looking tire and filled it with air.  Immediately after replacing it, it shot past me at high speed, landing in a snow bank while the hissing sound of escaping air from the tire riveted my attention in its direction.  Fortunately, Deano Olemaun and his wife Mary Jo had stopped by the gas station for some oil and Deano walked by just as the cap-turned missile flew by.  He smiled, asked what was going on and began trying to remove the disengaged stem from the cap while I pumped more air into the tire feeling very comforted by his presence.  I can’t remember the temperature that night, but it was cold…it’s been ranging from 20 to 40 below zero lately. 

Having no success with the cap, another Inupiat man who was nearby offered Deano one off of his tire, saying he could replace his later.  My efforts at refilling the tire without the stem were unsuccessful.  Fortunately Deano was able to pump enough air in to take pressure off of the rim and force the new cap into place.  He was skeptical about it staying on, but felt as though it might at least enable me to drive a short distance.  Questions immediately sprang to mind…I lived several blocks from the gas station, so could drive and park there, but with no place to plug in the engine, it would most likely freeze and create a second problem for Glenn and Anne.  Their hut is about three miles out of town and they have a second vehicle parked and plugged in there.  If I could make it that far, I could plug the car I was driving in and at least report only a tire problem.  Deano asked if I was going to try to make it, supported my decision with a smile and asked me to drive back and forth slowly in the parking lot to observe whether the cap would come off. After waving to Mary Jo, who I’m sure was anxious to get home to their five (I believe) children and thanking Deano profusely (what would I have done without his help?), I braced myself, hanging onto the cold steering wheel and took off, although slowly, for NARL.  I noticed the lights of a car behind me on the long, snow-banked road and was thinking that they would pass because of my slow progress.  It occurred to me further on that it might be the Olemaun’s…the car drove behind but on the outside of my path, maybe observing the questionable tire.  Pulling up to the hut, I jumped out to find Deano and Mary Jo both offering smiles on my safe arrival.  I can’t describe the feeling of gratitude I experienced.  Yes, this was Alaska, where people knew that the help they offered to each other could in many cases, be life-saving.  I heard the next day that there could be up to nine polar bears out near NARL.  What would have happened if I hadn’t been able to drive all the way to the hut and had been surrounded by a group of curious, or even more thought-provoking, hungry bears?  It does make one grateful.

One more hut story before signing off today.  I think I’ve become understandably addicted to laundering when given the use of machines, so anything and everything that might need to be washed, along with two table clothes sent home with me from work were put in on my last night. The multiple large indoor plants were watered and the tall water purifier was filled. I heard the water pump and could smell it’s hot electrical efforts around 4 in the morning, so quickly reading the instructions Glenn and Anne had left, climbed up over the worm bin and unplugged the pump. I had run the tank dry.  I drove the second vehicle to my apartment for a quick shower and then to work wondering if the pump was shot and would need to be replaced.  A call to the water delivery company as soon it opened gave me the assurance that the tank would be filled before Glenn and Anne’s return and that the pump would probably work fine when plugged in. I was fortunately distracted from my worries by an interesting and active day of public health nursing. After work, my climb over the worm bin netted a very welcome hum from the water pump and full pressure in all orifices. 

I said a very heart-felt good bye to my adorable friend, Big Boy…we’d become almost inseparable during my stay.  I loved that he followed me everywhere, purring, while I affirmed in various ways what a wonderful cat he is. I would miss his companionship. 

It’s gratifying thinking that my dad, who flew here for many years and landed his aircrafts on the old steel runway just beyond NARL, must have seen this same hut. My father passed in January and I can still feel a deep sense of missing him.  It’s somehow frightening to lose a parent…the little girl in me misses what he brought into my life and the adult in me misses knowing him as he traversed life on his own terms and aged.  But Dad’s spirit lives on as we all do. 

It’s interesting that Deano is the grandson of Forrest Solomon who was the station manager for Wien Airlines when my dad flew here.  Dad and Forrest shared housing in the 1950’s, I think perhaps at NARL, in a structure with a dirt floor that Dad replaced with plywood. I’ve enjoyed hearing his colorful stories of the adventure during that chapter of his life. 

We’re pulled into the new year, encouraged to start anew, to leave the old and any painful experiences and thoughts behind.  I love and miss you, Dad, but know, with no doubt, that we’ll meet again.  Thank you for your influence on my life and for your love. 

    

And happy new year to all!  Wishing you adventures and experiences that exceed all expectations!