Welcome to our "normal"

We usually tell you that "no news is good news".....we think we are going to change that to "OUR 'normal' is so ABNORMAL!"

This is a statement we have recently heard from physicians, friends and family to boot.  Our 'normal' summer was a hodge-podge mix of highs to 80, 2 floods/high water (and remodelling of our property AGAIN) and a bit of everything in between. My body once again stymied physicians, and not in a good way.

In the midst of  our "you-can't-make-this-stuff-up" days, Bill found himself getting flown by a Coast Guard Search and Rescue heliocopter into the village of Nuisit (west of Prudoe Bay on the oilfields), His expertise and knowledge was called upon to come up with an emergency plan (and supervise its implementation) to re-open Nuitsit's washed out airport runway.  It was even more urgent as the village had about 350 additional  NON-residents of the village stranded as they had been attending the 45th anniversary celebration of the village,  The Coast Guard helicopter was used to bring in emergency food and shelter supplies. Weather hampered  some of the work (and delayed Bill getting home) but we are proud to say his plan worked and pilots praised him for his idea and implementation. 

While he was away, we were experiencing high water/floods. I was certainly glad Tim had gotten home a week early from working the summer in the village of Nak-nek/King Salmon, doing lab work. He took over for Bill, overseeing everything from power outages, roads flooding, vet duties as poor Bubba (our brindle Mastiff/Rhodesian Ridgeback) got a tooth abcess that required surgery and chauffering me.
They say when it rains it pours - I was just glad that when we had smoke there was no fire. 

I wrote the following the  other night. it explains a bit of where we are at the moment. We are still working to wrap our heads around what it all means, but for now it will be as always: one day at a time, hitting life head on, with our heads held high.   Book 2 (Don't Wimp Out!) is back from the editor, and as soon as I get my feet back under myself, I will get back to work on it. Sorry - "LIFE" got in the way to be able to have out for the holidays!! 

Thanks for hanging in  with us and for your support. 

Sleep eludes my exhausted and pain weary body.
Feeling as though I have hit my lowest of low points,
I am empty and void of feeling,
I roll out of the warmth my bed and wander the house, hoping to discover some magical remedy that would allow me some semblance of restful sleep, if even for an hour.
 
Recent weeks have been filled with disappointments, at times even despair.
My heart is heavy laden.
Friends do their best to fill voids with cheery sentiments and well wishes.
You want them to just go away. How can they relate to that which they’ve not known?
 
The floods of summer rains tore majestic trees from their firm roots, depositing them on mounds of gravel that were non-existent one short week ago. Unusually early warm winds swept away the bright Fall yellows and reds of birch and willow trees. In their place are left bare limbs with piles of brown dry leaves in their stead. While the thermometer states it is an unseasonable temperature, more like a warm summer day, my chilled body shivers uncontrollably.
 
Wearily, I continue to wander in the stillness of the midnight hour, in the quiet of the house. I hope to not awaken Bill,  sleeping soundly after laboring long hard hours, additionally performing my tasks as well. My days are relegated to prescribed rest, hoping to win another battle with my nemesis of physical foes. The constant companion of unrelenting pain plagues me with the guilt of having to let others take over, my depleted frame not able to achieve even the simplest of tasks. Relinquishing and humility are not easy.
 
I gaze outside one last time before returning to the bed that beckons. As I look to the heavens, I unexpectedly realize that  the daylight hours have become shorter, and we are able once again to see the majestic Big Dipper, the Alaska State flag, with its tip pointing directly to true North.
 
As if on cue, a grand spectacle unfolds. First, twinkling stars appear. I focus my gaze at the black and bold outline of the mountains we live beneath. A white shadow comes into view over the very tops of the bold black mountain tops. Suddenly, with no fanfare, no warning, the white shadow turns into dancing reds, purples, greens and yellows. The colors shape-shift as they cascade running the length of the mountain range. Great spires of color reach higher and higher, scampering quickly, then fade.
 
In the stillness of the night, when I thought I had hit my lowest point, when sleep eluded my weary frame, the utmost of His highest handiwork fills my soul deep within. So like God, to know what you need, when you need it the most. 

​So like God to be in the details. One hundred percent of the time.