Perseverance pays off

Hairy woodpecker female

Finally caught up with her.
Seasons change and so do I

And, a few others.

So far no redpolls so maybe I will make it through the winter still solvent. We had quite an invasion of them two years ago.
Redpoll invasion

Revving up for takeoff. Or, maybe he's just trying not to slide off that slippery plastic.

It's OK to be an introvert as long as you keep it to yourself

I have finally come across a type of person with whom I could be comfortable. The problem is we will never meet.

Years ago one day I was waiting around for some people to make up their minds about whether we were going to do something or not. Tired of waiting, I decided right there if I wanted to do something I would do it, whether alone or not, just get up and go while the rest of them discuss the possibilities. Since that time most of my adventures except for sailing have been alone and I would have done that alone too, if I had ever owned a boat that I could single-hand on the big ocean.

I also found myself uncomfortable in crowds or groups, often at parties wandering among conversational groups listening quietly to what was mostly small talk but seldom joining the discussion. After an hour or so of that at many parties I would excuse myself and leave rather than endure that sense of being alone and obvious in a crowd.

I have avoided confrontation as much as possible, not even answering the phone rather than risk a confrontation of one form or another. It reached the point where  the phone ringing created a minor anxiety attack, startling me with its rude intrusion.

As a child I recall almost every question to my parents about wanting some toy or wanting to do something ended very quickly with a "no." As a result to this day I loathe asking people for anything and avoid it as much as I can. A side effect of those parental "nos" was that I made a conscious effort to never tell my children no unless there was a good reason and if so explain it to them. No quick reaction arbitrary negative responses.

For the most part if I can't do it myself, it doesn't get done or else I learn how to do it on my own. I built three houses with a minimum of outside help, often working with a book in one hand and a hammer in the other. As I progressed through a project, I would plan out  tasks working out how I could accomplish them by myself. This included some very creative heavy lifting that I did rather than ask for help if I could avoid it. People even came by to help once in a while and offer a hand but I had no idea what to tell them because I was all prepared to do it alone. 

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"I want that t shirt that says 'introverts unite! we're here, we're uncomfortable, and we want to go home.'" – Allie  Billings

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As life moved along, and I did more things on my own, and outside the norm for most people like sailing the big ocean, living in the Alaska Bush, going to a Lady Gaga concert at the age of 70, my accumulation of experiences further isolated me from the conversation. I just could not relate to people who lived more normal lives, never getting very close to the edge and doing for a few hours on the weekends what I did all the time. My lifestyle as well was alien to them. Sooner or later while I was describing life in the Bush someone was sure to ask a question about an outhouse. Once that came up the questioner usually dropped out of the conversation while I had to describe a toilet rather than the joys of the life. I quit talking about it.

Writing further isolated me. While it gave me a method of expression that avoided conversation, it is not a team sport; it is done alone in closed rooms and any interruption at all is a major intrusion. Yet when somebody did interrupt I could not tell them to buzz off, just endured the intrusion in silence until the person gave up and left. That may have at least contributed to problems that led to two divorces.

Alaska lends itself well to this way of life. Independence is a virtue around here and the tales are full of loners who populate the outer country quite comfortably. These days I live alone and function alone, going days and days without talking to another person, content with chores, the television, some limited writing and enjoying the solitude. My only regular socialization is Internet chat with a woman I have come to accept as an unindicted co-conspirator, trading YouTube videos on line and chatting as we listen to music we recommend to each other.

For years, I thought there was something wrong with me, wondering what personality malfunction caused this abnormal behavior. Then a few months ago, I ran across another person who is pretty much the same way and through her had a minor epiphany. She posted something about being an introvert, not as an apology for her personality, nor even anything she felt needed changing. In fact she opened my eyes to what an introvert is all about. Among items she posted about it were a couple of lists that pointed out 50 traits of an introvert. As I looked over those lists I realized 49 of those traits applied to me. Whoa. There was my life explained to me in almost clinical detail and I happily embraced the idea, not as an excuse for abnormal behavior but as an explanation that made me more comfortable in my own skin.

Adding to that comfort has been learning there are others of us who enjoy the same attribute. I've even heard rumblings of a meeting of introverts. The unfortunate truth about that though, is we know, we know no one would show up, but, then, to an introvert, that's not unfortunate.

ADDENDUM: A friend, who incidentally is enjoying an unencumbered weekend, pointed out that there is no normal. Looking back, it looks like I used "normal" and "abnormal" rather freely here. I usually cringe when I write the word "normal" for that very reason but I might have been in a hurry this time.  Alternates?  Maybe "mainstream," "generally accepted." I am sure there are others. In two cases I used abnormal facetiously as in "abnormal behavior." That was supposed to be sarcastic but on looking at it again, it doesn't read that well. The fact is that everyone's normal is different as is everyone's abnormal meaning as my friend said, there are no such things, except perhaps in the sense that being an introvert is very normal for a whole bunch of us.

Revenge of the introverts

30 problems only introverts will understand

She's so fierce blog – Being an introvert; why I struggle with my personality

Jung's theory of personalities

23 Signs you're secretly an introvert

27 Problems only introverts will understand

15 things introverts would never tell you

10 Ways introverts react with the world

50 inspiring quotes for introverts

When will they ever learn … oh, you know the rest

A friend posted a meme on Facebook the other day criticizing among other things "obscene CEO pay." Foolishly I added a meme I had seen that supported my friend's position. It showed the yearly income of CEOs at several of America's health insurers.

The original meme. The health care act mandates 80% of health

 insurance premiums have to go for care. These may drop.

I should know better than that, but some days you just can't resist. Almost immediately another commenter jumped on the entry critical of it and blaming Obamacare for forcing people to buy the insurance, thus increasing executives' pay. It was a knee-jerk uninformed comment like several others this guy had posted about the original meme, many of which espoused the same unsubstantiated or outright lies mouthed over and over again by radical conservatives who would vote against their own interests rather than go along with a black guy in the White House.

While this commenter defends outrageous pay for executives, I believe he is a commercial fisherman, working in an industry notorious for taking advantage of the first element of the supply chain, the individual fisherman.  Large processors for years have manipulated fish prices to line their own pockets while paying the fishermen as little as possible.  These fishermen are mostly small businesses where a family operates a single fishing boat – think family farmer. The government in 2013 estimated the average fisherman's income that year at $29,000.

In one area of Alaska processors this year were buying pink salmon at 28 cents a pound. Given an average weight of about 4 pounds that amounts to right around a dollar per fish.  In 2013 the ex-vessel price paid to fishermen for red salmon, considered the best of the salmon, averaged $1.60 a pound. Price for a filet of salmon in Anchorage was $11.95. It is difficult to understand why someone at the mercy of overpaid executives would defend them the way this guy did.

·      But then there are women who would vote for republicans despite the attacks on their health care and wages.

• ·      And minimum wage workers who vote for people who refuse to raise the minimum wage, but who work maybe 100 days a year, accomplish nothing and are paid a couple of hundred thousand for it.
• ·      And people who now have health insurance they couldn't get before will still vote for people who have tried to repeal Obamacare 50 times. Polls show people don't favor Obamacare, but they do favor the  Affordable Health Care Act.
• ·      And people who hate waste in government still vote for people who get us into useless wars,  those Obamacare votes, spend millions to save a few thousands drug testing welfare recipients, and deny them health care by not bringing their states in line with the nation's health care law.
• ·      And then there are those who keep voting, too, for people who block any attempt at responsible gun ownership, even when children in their own towns are killed by nuts with guns.

The list goes on and on.  And there's no convincing people who will vote against their own interests that they are on the wrong track, the wrong side of history. You just can't argue with ignorance, well, you can argue, but it is  senseless when facts don't matter and you will never change anyone's mind no matter how right or righteous your cause.

Seasons change and so do I

Red-breasted nuthatch

Woke up this morning to the peace-shattering rap of a woodpecker on the wall outside right over my head. One has been flitting around the yard for the past few days and I've chased him with a camera without much luck. Perhaps this rude awakening was a warning not to intrude into his privacy.

The woodpecker isn't alone. I've been keeping one feeder filled and it's been attacked constantly by a group of chickadees and a couple of nuthatches. Yesterday seven pine grosbeaks came around. Then later in the day, as if to mock the photographer chasing him, the woodpecker landed on the feeder and stared into the house. By the time I retrieved the camera he was gone.

  

Black-capped chickadee

Maybe it's time to fill the rest of the feeders even though there isn't any snow yet. It does get down into the 20s some nights so maybe they need the extra feed. I had a little left over from last year but had to buy the first 40-pound bag of the winter this past week.  The price is down, only $30 and change compared with $37 last year.

It's such a treat to go to the window in the morning and see birds flocking around the feeder, a sort of reassurance that all is right with the world, everything is moving along the way it is supposed to and it's all right to join the day's parade.

Most of the leaves are raked into piles, at least, waiting for someone to find the energy to haul them into the woods. I usually dump them over the septic tank thinking it might insulate and prevent freezing.

Just sitting here feeling the cold, waiting for the darkness and snow. Seasons change and so do I.

"No time left for you. Distant roads are calling me.

"No time for a summer friend

"No time for the love you send

"Seasons change and so did I

"You need not wonder why

"There's no time left for you, no time left for you."

– The Guess Who, No Time

A grueling look at the perfect storm of wordgate

In a news article today about this upcoming book, a writer used the word "grueling" in reference to my Last Great Race. Not many readers will realize that was a joke. In the early years and still, writers use that word so often it should be named officially "The Grueling Iditarod Trail Sled Dog Race." Partly as a joke and partly as a source of pride, I have written two books and several articles about the race and have never once used the word "grueling." This reporter knows that and put the word in quotes just to make the dig. It's all in good fun as far as I am concerned but it brings up a long-standing issue for me of writers picking up trending words and then using them so often they lose all impact.

Along the same line, not too long ago there was a post on Facebook about grammatical errors and one commenter said he gets furious when someone puts two spaces after a sentence (something new to me when I went back to editing a few years ago). Furious, mind you, over an extra space. There's a fellow headed for a heart attack before he's 40.

Grandpappy Day

William and his mother Ariel.
Arrived at 1:01 p.m.; 8 pounds, 2 ounces; 21 inches tall.

Racing winter

Just about ready to pave. The original street was about half this wide.

This morning a couple of chickadees showed up at an empty feeder left out over the summer, checking it out now that it's turned cold overnight. So I filled it and another one.  I usually wait for snow. By early evening at least three chickadees and two nuthatches were attacking the feeders with suitable enthusiasm.

The house feels like there's an earthquake every few minutes these days from a compactor pounding the earth out on the main street as the upgrade continues. I walked down there again this afternoon and they are getting close to paving. A guy there said they can pave even in cold weather.

The work on the bridge that had been blocking one exit is done but they are waiting a week to let some concrete cure. Pretty soon we will have safer roads through the area, wider and with better paths alongside them for walking and snowmachines and four-wheelers. I didn't see anywhere in the plans where they expect to pave a bicycle path.

While a road improvement around here is welcome; if you have to live among other people you might as well have good roads. But, I think it would kill me if someone started putting in a road near the East Pole,  and a road following our trail isn't all that out of the question. One is actually embedded in borough future plans and now someone has proposed a dam on the river a few miles upstream from the pole and that will take access roads for construction equipment and materials. The dam proposal also includes a connection to a large electric intertie that runs within a couple of miles of the property.

Not so far-fetched about killing me either. In the past I have had thought dreams about standing up to advancing bulldozers. If you hear some day in the next few years about some crazy guy in the Alaska woods mowed down by yellow machinery, remember me kindly, OK? Deal? OK.

Google map with some enhancements.

Company files preliminary paperwork for dam on Talkeetna River.

As is often said around here Alaska has two seasons, Winter and Construction.  Watch this space.

Winter's late arrival

There was no snow on that mountain yesterday
and this morning it was down to the base.

Normally there's termination dust (the first snow signifying the termination of summer and a signal for seasonal outsiders to go home) on the high mountains around here by mid August. Just a few years ago it came in July. After that first dusting, the snow line slowly creeps down the mountain, the elevations carefully tracked, until sometime, most often in October, it lands in the yard, but often doesn't last.

Until yesterday there had been no sign of it, except maybe a very light dusting way high on Pioneer Peak in the front yard. That's late by anyone's measure and you have to wonder is this another sign of the storied global climate change? Maybe, maybe not. Yearly changes can usually be credited to weather and cycles rather than huge environmental changes. This year the El Nino is strong and warmer weather was predicted for Alaska.

Today we woke up to what's in the picture. Snow all the way down the mountain and in the yard – not a lot and it melted quickly but still it's here. According to the weather service, it snowed pretty much everywhere in Alaska with some places receiving more than a foot. What fell in the yard here is gone now, but for sure more is on the way.

With the snow forecast yesterday I walked around the yard making sure everything had been picked up – in the process rescuing my small sledge hammer. I did discover a huge mistake I made last spring that I'm sure I will pay for. I stored the snowblower at the back of the tent-garage with two snowmachines blocking it in, which means in order to clear the driveway if I have to, I am going to have to start those two machines to move them out of the way. There's always some trauma involved with starting the machines for the first time, so here's hoping.

Just a quick nature observation

CHRISTINE KAPLER via flickr photo share.

Final approach, full flaps, landing gear down.

Trumpeter swans often stop in Southcentral Alaska on their way to more southern climes for the winter. Several photographs of them have shown up recently on the Facebook page Birds of Alaska. A few of the images captured the interesting way these huge birds apply the landing brakes when they hit the water.

The trumpeter swan according to Wikipedia is the heaviest bird native to North America with males weighing as much as 30 pounds. Keep that in mind and then consider them landing from a flight. That's a lot of weight in motion to hit the water with and unless you have been lucky enough and close enough to see one land on water, you might miss the actual mechanics of their landing. Picture a jet landing on an aircraft carrier and you might get the idea of forces, at least to scale, involved in this.

What is obvious in the photographs is that as the swan approaches the landing, he puts his legs well forward under the breast with the webbed feet spread in a wide water-shoving position. The feet hit first, pushing against the water, raising a small wave and slowing the big bird until its breast hits the water – swan brakes like a cartoon coyote screeching to a quick halt.

Now I wonder if all waterfowl land the same way. Over the years there have been quite a few humorous photos and videos of birds crash landing in water, so it's likely not all of them know this neat trick the swans have developed.

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A NOTE: I'd like to pass some acknowledgement of sorts to two frequent contributors to Birds of Alaska, Ian Reid and Harvey Mann. I sent messages to both requesting permission to use their photographs to illustrate this post. Neither had the courtesy to respond even with a refusal. Thank you both, you are great Alaskans. The thing is I could have used their images anyway and they probably never would have known.

Oh no! Swans!