buns in the oven

there are 3 things that daily consume my mind: teaching, having a baby, and baking....in that order.

teaching takes the forefront mainly because it is in my face for hours and hours every day. i can't say that i'm not passionate about teaching. my kids are my world. i call them "my kids" because they are MINE in most every sense of the word. i'm not just this woman who shows up each day and teaches them some stuff. i am their example, parent, nurse, guidance counselor, instructor, performance evaluator, nurturer. i comfort them, scold them, coach them, nurse them back to health, reward them, encourage them, punish them, cry with them, praise them, steer them, adore them. i have these 23 incredible human beings DEPENDING on me for an entire year of their lives. they are mine. and i take that responsibility very seriously. but, ah, there's the rub. there are 23 of them. i both love and loathe the challenge in that number. i feel stretched thin sometimes because there is not enough of me to go around. i have so much to give them, but not enough time in the day.

for this reason, the second item has been on my mind almost constantly. if i have this much love for 23 that are not biologically mine, what must it be like to have just ONE of those incredibly precious lives to nurture and grow...one that belongs to me...one that i can pour every ounce of my love into. it thrills me to no end to imagine the joys of being a mom. so i'm forever daydreaming about our little family that just might come to be one day. we're going to have an amazing life together...

baking gets the short end of the stick, although it is probably my true passion in life. people always say that if they won the lottery, they would quit working. i wouldn't. i would open a bakery. i'm not quite sure what it is about putting flour and sugar and butter and eggs together that gets me. maybe it's just that....the simplicity of the idea. ordinary ingredients can turn into something extraordinary....every time. i guess, in a way, it also makes me feel more connected to my roots. my grammy is an amazing baker. it's not like she went to pastry school. and when we go to visit, she doesn't have this immaculate spread of beautifully crafted, magazine ready desserts. her baking is simple. and it's real. EVERY bread, pie, cake, roll, crumble, tart , and cookie is made from scratch. she grew up on a farm baking that way, baked for her own family that way, and bakes for her grandkids that way....there simply IS no other way. i agree. there is a wholesome satisfaction in creating something from the bare basics. you can almost taste the labor of love in every bite. i dream about spending a whole summer in the kitchen of her rural home. she will teach me the secrets of good bread making and her incomparable rhubarb pie. the windows will be open and the breeze will carry our warm oven smells out to the world. we will knead dough together for hours and she will impart her 80 years of culinary wisdom and soul to me. i also imagine my own life as a baker. i picture winning the pillsbury bake-off competition or having a world famous sticky bun that people come from miles around to taste. and when the reporters come to interview me about my masterpiece, i will be sure to give honor to my grammy for bestowing upon me the gift of baking....because that's really where it all began.

now off to buy some flour....and that lottery ticket...

ever looking back

in light of the fact that our trip ended two months ago, i decided to sum up our last 3 days in alaska in this blog. i need to get on with writing blogs about the rest of my life :)
Thursday, Day 7
we now had 2 days of "free time" since canceling the trip to fox island. on our river rafting adventure, our guide had told us about a free glacier hike, just at the edge of seward. having spent the previous day ogling one of these magnificent ice chunks, we were intrigued by the idea of climbing one. so off we went.
at the glacier tourist center, we found 3 possible hikes listed. the wheelchair accessible route to the base of the ice, the 2-3 hour route to the middle of the glacier, and the 8 hour route to the top of the glacier and the harding ice field where it originates. guess which one we picked...
it began with a 2 hour trek through thick woods, up rocks, and over babbling brooks and waterfalls. i will admit that i was a bit distracted on this part of the journey. the chalkboard in the tourist center had claimed several bear sightings on the trails that morning, and i wasn't taking any chances. marcus indulged my frequent "hey bear" warning shouts and ridiculous clapping. i cringed every time we happened upon fresh bear scat. i don't think i would have been so afraid if the trees hadn't been so thick and the trail hadn't been so winding. i kept imagining myself surprising a bear face to face as i turned the corners. so clapping and shouting were my ways of preparing him for my arrival. who knows if that actually works. like i said....marcus indulged me.
we made it to the top of treeline to discover our first snow patches. they were more like mountain blankets really. there were paths marked through the snow in order to cross them. they were slippery and melty from the warm sun. from every direction you could hear trickling water. it came from above us, ran below the snow under our feet, continued on towards the massive glacier to our left, and poured from deep within the crevices of the ice itself. the snow blankets were separated by rocky climbs and then followed by more snow blankets. this pattern of rock and snow went on forever. i think that the majority of this walk was spent mentally urging ourselves to keep going. we were tired, but it seemed pointless to turn around when we had already come so far. we weren't about to waste our efforts. so we kind of shifted into the robotic mode of just picking our feet up and setting them back down. each time we crested a hill, we found more to look at and more to climb. at some point, after the air had cooled down and the number of hikers had diminished, we found the view we had been waiting for. we were perched on top of the world. pristine, sparkling white snow COVERED the mountain tops for miles. it makes you feel so tiny and in awe. we were literally in the midst of a winter wonderland, only it was summer. but it sure felt like christmas...like we had opened this beautifully wrapped package, and the rocks were strewn about us like bits of paper that had been torn off to get inside. our immaculate present lay before us....all is calm, all is bright.
back down at the base, we found that the round trip had taken us 6 1/2 hours. we blissfully drove back to anchorage, snuggled into bed, and dreamt dreams of cozy mountain cabins nestled in the twinkling crystals of ice and snow. talk about peace on earth.
Friday, Day 8
this is the day of doom. with every incredible, unforgettable moment we had consumed, there was bound to be one disaster before the trip ended. we started the day with a trip to girdwood for some baked treats and a stop at the wildlife conservatory. it was a laid back and simple outing. nothing terribly impressive, just a relaxing drive, some fresh air, and great views. it was on our way back to anchorage that fate stepped in. we had passed a tourist stop called beluga point several times in the past few days. it was along the coast and you were supposed to be able to spot beluga whales at certain times of the day. we were nearly past it when i urged marc to stop. we didn't have anything else on the agenda and it was most likely our last time to drive this way. we might as well stop and soak in the ocean breeze, maybe catch a whale sighting or two. we walked over a lone train track to the coast which was sprinkled with giant, craggy rocks. it was beautiful. photo op! up to this point, marc had done the majority of the "fancy camera" picture taking on the trip. that thing was heavy, so he was usually nominated to carry it. but here, it was a short walk up the rocks and down to the beach....i could carry it this time, no problem. i enjoyed myself, snapping pictures of marc skipping rocks and the ocean spray as it came rolling in, practicing with the zoom lens and the lighting. but when we turned to leave, instead of walking back to the trail, marc headed up the big, coarse boulders. i'd been climbing all week, so i didn't think twice about following him up them. but oh, how i should have taken the trail. the borrowed camera, dangling loosely from my neck, swung away from my body and into the rocks as i took the first big step. i heard the scraping noise, i froze, and nausea hit me. after 10 seconds or so, marc turned to see if i was coming and saw me standing there, with that mortified look on my face. the guilt was overwhelming. i felt like i had ruined our trip. he was mad. i don't blame him. it was HIS co-worker's camera. there was a big grainy scrape right across the lens.....the $300+ lens. we rode back to the hotel in silence. there's really no one person to blame here. he had taken the lens cap off at the beginning of the trip and stored it in the glove box. i had carried the camera without putting it in the bag first. he had led me up the teetering rocks. but i had followed instead of taken the wiser, flatter way out. there was nothing that could be done. we finally talked about it over dinner. i couldn't apologize enough. but i had increased our trip cost by more than a few dollars. we eventually took some pictures with it and found that the scratch did not affect the quality of the pictures in the slightest. but there was no way we could return it to her like that. we had a beer, calmed down, and resolved to buy her a new lens and keep the scratched one for ourselves to use one day....one day in the far future when we could actually afford a camera of our own. we were already $300 short in the camera savings fund. Saturday, Day 9
our flight didn't leave until 9 at night. we looked into leaving earlier, but the flights were all full. we spent this day literally wandering around the streets of anchorage for hours. it was the fourth of july, so we waited for the parade to clear and then headed into the multitude of shops and outdoor markets that lined the main roads. i think i took a nap in the car at one point, and we sipped a coke and hot chocolate at an outdoor cafe. mostly we just stayed quiet and reflected on the incredible week we had just spent together in this unparalleled place of wonder. it is hard to imagine that we will ever be able to top this one....and i don't know that i really mind.

Pictures, Day 7

~on the glacier trail, thinking about bears~

~cool shot of us hiking up~

~halfway up, glacier behind marc~

~higher we go~

~snow blankets...tiny people in the middle~

~marc crossing a snow path (bottom right)~

~nearing the top...don't know why i'm so dark~

~mountain's majesty~

~the harding ice field~

~on top of the world~


~if only we had a dogsled~

Pictures, Day 8
~beluga point~

~one of the last pictures before doom hit~


~marc nestled in the giant, craggy rocks that took the camera hostage~


Pictures, Day 9

~on the plane, headed home~


~awesome view of ice swirl from plane~


~first dusk in over a week~

goodbye, alaska...

humble abode

Tuesday, Day 5, continued
feeling invincible to the world, we left the rafting adventure heading towards the coastal town of seward. we were booked to stay at a hostel called miller's landing right near the open ocean inlet. it was supposed to be quaint and outdoorsy and away from the tourist part of town...just what we were looking for. as we pulled down the isolated road, we passed several small cabins that looked rather shabby. then we drove past a broken down looking shack of four rooms. and past that were dozens and dozens of tents and campers. i had reserved a "backpackers" room for us for two nights. it was supposed to be one room out of four that were housed in one long building. as we pulled into the main lodge, i got a lump in my throat. this was NOT what the pictures online had looked like. surely that shack we passed wasn't our room. oh, but it was...and having a nonrefundable deposit, we took the key, held our breath and drove back to the shanty by the side of the road. we opened the door and just like that, the hot air was let out of our afternoon balloon. picture the worst motel room imaginable and then break all of the furniture in it, make the lone, fluorescent light flicker, and throw some dirt all over the ground. that doesn't come close to what we were looking at. we were devastated. this was not the way this glorious day was supposed to end. surely there was something we could do. we returned to the main lodge and asked if there were ANY other rooms....ANYwhere. we were told there was a cabin available for the same cost, so we asked if we could take a look first, and we headed over to see if it could possibly get any worse. hemlock cabin, as it was called, was a single room hut with two tree-carved bunk beds, some plastic lawn chairs, and a little heater tucked into the wall. it wasn't much better, but at least it felt more like being at summer camp than being in a $15.99 per night dirty motel. we agreed to stay, got some clean linens (which actually did smell fresh and clean), unloaded the car, made the beds, showered, and then drove back to town to eat dinner and ponder our misfortune.

we happened upon a little place called the salmon bake where we shared a heaping plate of local fish and crab. as delicious as it was, we couldn't help but think about what we had to return to back at the hostel. we decided that we would just have to spend as little time as possible there. as we sat at the table, we also began to rethink the remaining schedule for the week. the final two days were supposed to be spent on fox island at a place called kayaker's cove. it was an isolated hostel reachable only by water taxi. we had heard great things about it, and it would be a true adventure with no restaurants, stores, tourists, even showers. only exploring, sea kayaking to waterfalls and caves, and peaceful camping life. however, in light of our current situation, our desire for more "roughing it" was growing thinner. by then end of dinner, we had completely rearranged our plans. the next two nights would still be spent in the rickety cabin, but we would cancel the next two nights at kayaker's cove, use up all of our remaining hotel points, and stay the last two nights in and around anchorage. there were tons of other adventures to be had other than kayaker's cove. so with full bellies and a new plan, we headed back to the dungeon for a frigid night's sleep. when we approached camp, however, we noticed an older man sitting out beside a fire in front of the cabin next to ours. we stopped to say hello on our way in and ended up staying for the next hour and a half. the man, it turns out, lived in the artctic circle portion of north alaska. he was a lawyer working for the state of alaska in representation of the native people's rights. he wowed us with his heavy, handmade eskimo jacket, a petrified mammoth tusk, and stories about life in the polar cap. he was enjoying more than a few beers and, by the end of the night, had us in side-splitting giggles as he told tales about eating seal blubber, crazy bear attacks and blinding snowstorms that had him mistaking other people for animals. needless to say, he turned our night around. we couldn't help but think that we would have never heard about such a fascinating life if it hadn't been for that dust bucket of a place. as we headed into our cabin to start the heater up, we were actually grateful to have had the chance.

Wednesday, Day 6
we awoke to a great morning fog over the bay. we made our way down to the ship dock and found our small vessel waiting to bear us to sea on a 6-hour fjord and glacier tour. we didn't know quite what to expect since this was an actual "tour." however, we found that the boat was not terribly full, the tourists were reasonably laid back, and the captain quite pleasant to listen to. we spent some of our time outside on the deck, but the frigid air whipping past us would send us right back in to get warm again. the further out we got from shore, the clearer the sky became, and within the first hour, we had spotted our first humpback whale pair. i had not expected to see whales, nor had i ever seen one before that. i was mesmerized. the captain turned off the boat motor and we sat in silence, listening to them crest and blow over and over. this was just the first of many whale sightings. later in the day, we would see a mother and calf jump out of the water and then wave their pectoral fins at us before diving down below. we would also spot several porpoises playing chase with our boat and hundreds of puffins, gulls, eagles, and seals lofted up onto jagged rocks and tiny islands. eat your heart out, sea world. but the pies de resistance had to be the mighty Portage Glacier towering before us in the distance. the scale is really hard to comprehend. it seems like a large, blue piece of ice sliding down a mountain at first. but with each passing minute that we drew closer, it continued to growing and growing until it seemed an impressive moutain itself. the captain slowed the engines as he took us into the cove, where we began hitting chunks of loud, clunking ice....fresh from the glacier. soon we were sitting still, completely surrounded by ice in all directions....like a straw sticking out of a slushy drink. again, he killed the engines and we sat in silence. it didn't take long before we heard the first enormous thunder clap of ice breaking away from the glacier. showers white powder burst off of the side and crashed into the ocean below. i think i could have sat there all day. nature was putting on a free show, and we were the only ones who would ever see that exact performance. surreal, to say the least. we waited forever, trying to catch just one more calving. the captain was as intrigued as we were, but he apologized that we would have to leave and start back to the dock. as he started the engines, a HUGE piece of ice came erupting off of the side. the sound was phenomenal, even above the hum of the motor. we tried to capture it on film, but this was just one of those places where photos don't even begin to do it justice. every second of that trip was beautiful and unforgettable. we didn't even mind going back to our dingy cabin after what we had just experienced. it had been a great day.

Pictures, Day 5 & 6

~awful, awful, awful room that we did NOT stay in~

~quaint cabin that we opted for instead~

~our cruise ship~

~heading out of the inlet~

~foggy morning coast~

~seals on the rock behind marc~

~two whale humps~

~headed to the glacier behind us~

~getting closer~

~enter ice field~

~magnificent~

~as close as we could get....still quite a ways off~

~ice calving off of the glacier~