Some of you know what it's like up here, some of you don't. My life is typical in many ways, but of course I'm not Everywoman any more than you are, so I thought I'd just lay out what I'm up to today to give you an idea of what a typical day is for me.
My son woke me up at 6:45 calling me from the Lower 48. He does that about once a week. He forgets about the time difference (four hours from the East Coast to here, three hours from Central, two from Mountain, one from Pacific). He wakes me up, I answer in my fogged morning voice and he says, brightly, "Oh, did I wake you up?" and then continues blithely on chatting. He knows from years of waking me up ever since he was a toddler (when I was sleeping and he pried my eyes open) that Mom can wake up fast.
I've got a long day ahead of me. First I look out the window to see how many clothes to wear while taking Sofia on her pee walk. It dusted a bit more snow so that means hat, sweater, knitted gloves and jam my bare feet into some boots. We go outside and thank goodness there are no bunnies, so she can remember to pee! A whiskey jack swoops over us, calls, and lands on the chokecherry tree, turns around and scrutinizes us. It's HIS chokecherry tree, I understand. He and his mate have had it staked out all summer.
Back in the house, feed Sofie a dog cookie and look around. Dishes. Crap. Okay, I have to get the crock pot out of its box and filled with chicken, potatoes, carrots and onions (darn, out of celery) and remember to turn it on before I leave so I'll have dinner when I get home.
Glancing at the wall I see that the tower filing cabinet my landlord gave me is starting to look a lot better and loom a lot less since I stayed up until midnight covering its dark, gray metal with beige, marble Contac paper. Much better and much less Addams Family!
Okay, pulling rock-hard frozen chicken out of the freezer and putting it into the microwave to thaw. I'd put it in the crock pot frozen, there'll be plenty of time to cook it, but I want to get the packet of yuklets out. I've been zapping it for fifteen minutes, and I still can't pry them out. Oh well, we might just give Sofie a treat of stewed yucklets for her dinner.
Gotta be in town by 12:30, and I'll work until seven. Doesn't sound too rigorousl, but giving a new person my total attention every half hour with no breaks in between for six and a half hours is intense. Wednesday is the day I give the most lessons. I'm a music teacher and I know that everyone has his or her own learning style. No one method fits all, and everyone is working on something different, or finds one thing difficult different from any other student. Sure, there are plenty of things all students have in common, but a good teacher pays attention to each student individually in order to truly help that person overcome whatever it is that holds him or her back. No Suzuki method here. Nope. There are no shortcuts to good teaching.
Since I have lucked into this place that includes a heated garage, I'm an atypical Alaskan! It's not cold enough to plug in the car yet (you wait until around zero) but I'd be watching the temperature a lot closer if I didn't have that nice garage. Still, I have to think about road conditions before I go out there.
I drive about ten miles to town. It only takes about ten minutes on dry pavement, about 15-20 in mild winter conditions. What the drive is like from here in deep winter, I'll find out, but generally driving gets easier once winter truly sets in. We are still in the Freeze Up period, one I hate, because it often means lots of very slick ice coupled with people who seemingly have forgotten how to drive in winter during the last three months.
This drive is gorgeous. As I come over the top of the big hill, I often see Denali, 190 miles away! Below me Fairbanks is spread out like a 3-D map. I have to watch out for moose every day, all the time. They can be anywhere, including in town. But the most likely place is on the highway into town. The brush cutters cut back the shoulders so that we have a clear view of 20 feet (gives us a fighting chance if a moose pops out) but that creates new willow growth (willows love disturbed earth) and moose love willows. So quite often they will be beside the road munch on willows and I have to slow way down just in case the silly thing decides to cross the road or run in front of me.
Before I go I have to do the dishes (very few Alaskans have dishwashers) and put that stew together, take a shower and make some breakfast. I probably won't have time to get any food until dinner, which is common for me, but I might find a helpful parent who will go get me something from the Japanese place across the street.
After my last student I'll drive very carefully home, and hope that the long grade up to my neighborhood has been graveled again or isn't very slick. Last night it was fine, but the night before I was going 7mph and my wheels still spun....and yet if I stopped, I might never have gotten traction again. I have a feeling that even the gravel they put out yesterday will help me tonight.
I'll come home and find a house that smells like chicken stew. Scott will arrive and we'll have dinner and watch a DVD. I'll check my email. And that's my day.
