09-08-2010

After the three-day weekend, the kids were happy to be back in school. The weather is the same 50 degrees. Sometimes it is windy and rainy, and other times it’s rainy and windy. But mostly windy and rainy. The change up is nice. The weather isn’t too bad except when it is blowing in my face. Which is why I’m not shaving until I go home for Christmas. Ok, I’m not shaving because I’m lazy and have an aversion to dragging a sharp piece of steel across my face.

I want to mention that there have been several very nice comments posted at this blog. I will also clear up some apparent confusion; there will be no payment for kind remarks. But I do appreciate them. I’m getting free advice from my favorite principal in New Zealand (Don McLean), but I’m still searching for the definition of biffing.

I had been without water since last Thursday, but Joe Strongheart worked hard and fixed the problem. Joe is the maintenance man at the school and even though it wasn’t his responsibility to fix the problem, he did anyways. The crew who was working on it left last week for a two-week break, so I’m very glad that Joe would take the time to get me back in water. I also traded some plastic totes that I used to move my stuff up here to Joe and his wife for about 3 lbs of moose meat. I made bread and moose-chili this weekend. I had plenty left over, so I’ve been eating chili every night this week.

The town is also rebuilding the boardwalk throughout the village. The land is almost a marshland out here since we are on the Yukon River delta, so the ground is low quality for walking. Even where it is dry, it is like walking on a giant sponge. The boardwalks have little driveways that run right up to people’s houses. Most people have ATVs for the summer and snowmobiles (snow machines) for the winter. I’m going to just hoof it this year. It would be expensive to order one for this winter so I’ll do it like the old timers have done for years: lots of bitching and complaining.

The kids and their teacher are getting to know each other a little better each day. They mock my attempt at a beard and remind me “That’s not how Grover did it”. Grover was their teacher last year. I would like to ask them to cut me a break because I’m winging it here, but I smile and tell them “I’m not Grover”. They give me a confused look and tell me they know I’m not Grover, and ask why I’m shouting. Grover is probably wondering why I always give him a dirty look in the hall. He’s teaching social studies to 6-12 grades.

Now that I have water, I can get my dishes and clothes washed, admire my beard and eat another bowl of chili. I also still have time to figure out how to biff my textbooks without getting fired.