Keeping the Spring in Our Step

by Ashley (AKPhlash Adventures Photo Album)

I really have been neglecting our blog this past year. I suppose that's normal, since the newness of our life here wore off some time ago. However, I also know I'll regret it if I leave gaps that are too large, and inevitably forget to record some pretty phenomenal moments. With that as my preface, I'll get into sharing our life over the past three months.

January

This winter was one for the record books. By this month, we were only halfway through our brutal winter, which would end up going down as the coldest winter here in 50 years. We had well over 30 days of at least -40 temps; and yes, most of our students still walked or rode their snow machines to school anyway. Our chickens fared well, requiring only a space heater out in the coop, and a heated waterer. Unlike Fairbanks, where they simultaneously had one of the snowiest winters on record, here in Kaltag, we had a lot less snow than our norm, which made for several instances of frozen pipes and power outages. I gotta say, I'd much rather go without electricity than water. Hauling in snow to melt isn't a fun task...

Our attendance at school was particularly rough this month as well. The flu hit our village pretty hard, and even our family, which hardly ever gets sick, fell prey to it (except Ave, who somehow managed to remain unscathed.) A good portion of my class missed close to two weeks of school, and there were days where I only had two students show up. Staff was also intermittently out, which made more work for those who were there. We also had several villagers who had to be flown out for more intensive hospital care. Fortunately, it passed, with recoveries all around.

Ems and Ave also become consistent babysitters for a couple of soon-to-be preschoolers in our village. They watch the two boys five days a week, for half of the working day, and it's felt like old times, in our Texas house. We always had young nieces and nephews around, with the sounds of laughter, wrestling matches, objects being thrown, and most fondly remembered, the sound of little feet running laps through our open floorplan design. Funnily enough, our small house here also allows for toddlers to run full circle, which the boys do every time they are here. It's been good to have cardboard box forts in the house again.

February: Still brutally cold. A little more snow. We were pretty tired of the bitter temps that make your lungs ache. But the sunlight notably began to increase, which improved moods all around.

The weekend of my birthday, Philip and I traveled to Anchorage to attend the ASTE (Alaska Society for Technology in Education) conference. We attended the previous year, and this year, Philip actually hosted a session. His topic was about the "IA of AI" (IA means internal assumptions) in the classroom, and how it should mostly be utilized to reduce the task load for teachers, rather than casually handed to students to play with. It was the only philosophical session at the conference, hitting hard on the effects that technology use has had in education over the last two decades, with surprisingly negative results, when honestly assessed. The majority of other sessions focused on strategies for using AI, or companies selling their products. Philip ended up being asked to host an additional session last minute, and it was encouraging to see several who attended his first session return for more.

We enjoyed our weekend in Anchorage, taking advantage of eating in a city once again, and partaking in fine dining for my birthday/Valentine's Day. One of the goals we had for our trip, was to find some pants for me that can actually handle life in Alaska. I typically wear my clothes out, which can take anywhere from 5-15 years, depending on the item. But I had only one pair of jeans, and two pairs of workpants, and they were borderline no longer acceptable to wear in public. Don't get me started on the flimsy quality of women's clothing. My biggest pet peeve is always the pathetic representation of pants pockets. On women's clothing, they're not really meant to function as pockets. They are best used for holding paper clips or imaginary items. Definitely not iPhones. Every single pair of pants I own ends up developing a hole in the pocket where I usually carry my phone. The front pockets are just as useless, because lets face it, pockets that could hold anything of significance expand the visual waistline of the pants, a feature most women abhor. So, my quest for quality pants, that would be tougher than my disdain for women's clothing, landed us at Duluth Trading. I am happy to report that I now have a pair of jeans, with a deep pocket on the leg, that holds my phone brilliantly. I can fit my keys in any of the five pockets I want, and the denim is tougher, which hopefully will be able to withstand our rigid water issues here (I say rigid, because the term "hard water" just doesn't do it justice.) I also got a few pairs of work pants, one of them featuring Duluth's "Fire Hose" design, which has heavy-duty reinforced stitching, a double layer hem line, made of a pre-washed canvas material that repels water and stains. I expect these pants to carry me into my 80s.

When our time in Anchorage was done, we flew back to Fairbanks that Monday, for our overnight stay, before being able to take the puddle jumper back to Kaltag. Tuesday afternoon, we boarded the plane and began our last stretch home, usually a 2-hour flight. When enduring these flights, I always end up looking in three places on these bush plane flights: 1) out the window (because it's beautiful), 2) at the instrument panel (because I love watching all the flight measurements, remaining flight time estimates, and the flight plan), and 3) the pilot. This last one is because the person flying the plane is the first clue you may have if something goes wrong. About an hour and a half into our flight, I noticed that our pilot began shaking his head. His face was strained. He kept consulting his manifest, and softly speaking into his headset. My curiosity and concern was piqued. We were about 10 minutes out from Kaltag, when all of the sudden, he banked sharply, and completely veered off the flight trajectory. I immediately knew we were not headed to Kaltag, but instead, most likely, to the closest village airport which was Galena. Sure enough, as we saw the Galena airstrip below, I began postulating what caused the change. Once we touched down, the pilot informed us that the weather was too bad in Kaltag, and we were going to try to wait out the storm before continuing on.

We ended up sitting in the Galena airport for about four hours. That time was spent conversing with strangers (who turned out to be working for the Alaska Geological Society, alongside the tribe, to monitor and assess our water systems in the villages), watching the windsocks start flying perfectly perpendicular to the ground, watching the snow pick up and swirl madly, and watching a woman nearby vomit repeatedly into a trashcan, wailing and moaning. This was not the best of times for us. Ultimately, the final decision was that Kaltag was closed for that day, and we had the choice to remain in Galena overnight, or fly back to Fairbanks. The locals who had friends and family there chose to stay, which fortunately for us included the violently sick passenger, who I will only say made our earlier flight....interesting. Philip and I, and the geologists, chose to fly back to Fairbanks. We couldn't really contact anyone because there are no cell towers in the villages, but our satellite capability on our phones allowed us to send one liner updates to our principal and the kids.

We flew back to Fairbanks, already anticipating the changes we'd have to make as soon as we landed, to find accommodations and try to get on the flight out the next day. Fortunately, our district did well in landing us a hotel room, which considering how booked everything was in Fairbanks, due to basketball season, and tourist season (to see the Northern Lights), was notable. We had no vehicle to get around in, and it was -45 outside, with snow drifts around the city that were taller than some houses, so we were confined to the hotel. We ate dinner, and then headed back to the room, choosing not to unpack since obviously, we expected to get out the next day, if the weather cooperated.

Wednesday morning, we were informed that we were in fact on the manifest to fly out to Kaltag. We got our stuff together, and took the shuttle to Wrights. When we got there, and checked in, we were then informed that we had been put on standby because the full flight we were on had had a reduction in available seats. With bush planes, what can be flown out is very sensitive to weather conditions. Since the weather was still precarious with winds and extreme cold, they had to lessen the weight on the plane. Also, a couple of passengers who had failed to check in earlier, showed up at the last minute. So...we sat there for two hours, hoping for a miracle, only to be told that once again, it wasn't happening. Once again, we called district. The assistant superintendent (who is an amazing woman) sent her husband to pick us up and chauffeur us around until lodgings could once again be secured. He took us to lunch, and we were able to enjoy good conversation over Korean food, all the while trying not to stress about our kids back home alone, and our students at school without their teachers. Philip ran his high school class virtually, to try to keep things going, and I even set up a virtual conference with my class, to touch in and let them know that we hadn't disappeared forever. Routine is incredibly important with our students, and they don't do well when the unexpected happens. And since Philip and I are the most stable and present teachers on campus, I hoped that by seeing my face, that would provide a sense of that normalcy to which they've grown accustomed.

We ended up back at our same hotel, different room, and once again, kept everything in the suitcase, ready to go.

The following morning, we called Wrights, determined we were definitely on the flight to Kaltag, and then headed that way to check in. Again. Not long after we got there, we were sitting in the airport, waiting, when all of the sudden, you couldn't see anything outside. It was a complete whiteout. The wind was blowing equipment all over the tarmac, and workers were working fast to make sure planes were secured. My heart sank. I thought there was no way we would be getting out that day. I began to think we might be in a Groundhog Day loop, and that this historic brutal winter was going to trap us in Fairbanks until spring. So I was rather surprised when the pilot started doing roll call for Kaltag. We lined up, and then walked outside to the plane, fighting the wind and snow the entire time. We got on the plane, buckled in, the pilot gave his usual safety speech, and then we began to roll down the runway. We then paused, and sat there for awhile. We later found out that the pilot was literally waiting for a pause in the wind gusts to take off. He then said, "Alright, let's do this!" We took off, bumping our way through the next 5,000 feet of altitude. Once we cleared that, it was a fairly smooth, beautifully clear flight. Of course, I watched the instrument panel like a hawk, willing us to stay on the flight trajectory all the way to Kaltag.

Boy was I thrilled when we touched down.

March: March was still cold, but our average had shifted to the negative singles and teens during the day. We were all ready for spring break, which found Philip and I once again in Fairbanks, to participate in a grant-funded math workshop hosted by our district. We had attended this workshop the first year we were here, and it was fun to pick up where we left off. The workshop entailed a group of teachers writing and solving place-based math problems for various grade levels, through the use of Google Slides. The aim was to write more relevant mathematical situations revolving around local village life, in an attempt to increase meaning and understanding for students. We did that for three days, 9 am-3 pm, fully engrossed almost the entire time. Philip and I found it enjoyable, and have been able to use the results of our work in our classrooms since we returned. I will admit that I was nervous that we'd be stranded in Fairbanks again, but the weather was far more cooperative this time around. We enjoyed trying out new places to eat, trying to soak up our last time out of the village, for what will most likely be another 5-6 months or more. Emily ended up joining us for part of it, so we could knock out a necessary doctor's appointment for her, and we had fun bowling, and eating in a well-reputed Korean dive, with food that lived up to expectations.

We celebrated Philip's birthday when we returned home, with presents from all of us, and East Ramp Pizza for dinner. East Ramp is a pizza joint down the road from Wrights. Our tradition has become to always pick up pizza when we pass through. We also enjoyed a chocolate-cream cheese-espresso-Oreo-whipped cream layered concoction made by Avery. It's weird to think of Philip and I as progressing through our 40s. I've come to call this year for me my, "two-score and four" year. Science says that people experience a rapid-aging process during this year, which I'm not sure how I feel about that. Philip and I started fasting for health eight years ago after his cancer journey, with the benefits supposedly being able to reverse or slow down negative effects due to aging, and allow your body to repair itself. We've also been far more conscious on our lifestyle habits since then, balancing the orthorexic tendencies of the modern day health culture with a relaxed approach, embracing that it's okay to splurge every now and then. Stressing about health undoes any purposeful attempts to achieve it, and despite my tendency to feel that I'm running from the diseases in my family history, I aim to live out this year with that same balance.

Also this month, the Iditarod once again passed through our village, as it always does. We were able to see most of the mushers come through, including this year's winner, Jesse Holmes, who also won last year. It's fun to watch the dogs, who are always so eager to go. My students also enjoyed getting to pet the dogs, and watch how the vets checked them over. If you ever get a chance to witness this race in person, it's a memorable experience.

Kids:

Ave has continued to develop her baking and soap making skills. Her danishes have become famous here, especially since she uses our jam made from local harvests. (We literally almost had a fight between two elder ladies at our cafe night this past week, over her danishes!) She's also able to sell her soaps here, and has enjoyed researching the benefits of different ingredients, and learning how to make different designs. I think she's read about 15 books in the last couple of months, because she loves book series, and can't put them down. She is also loving that the school librarian takes student requests to purchase for our school library. ;)

She's finishing up her 8th grade year brilliantly, still doing work at a junior/senior level of high school. She's looking forward to the opportunities that will open up for her next year when she's officially in high school. As of right now, she's shifted her career ambitions to nursing, and considering the different specialties of interest.

Josh is still our low-key kid, maintaining his slow pace of life. He's picked up an interest and his skill in basketball, with the possibility of our high school boys playing as a team next year. He also still works at our local Co-op, stocking shipments and doing inventory whenever he is asked. He has become the most reliable of our kids around the house, always checking on chickens, clearing the roof of snow, washing dishes when his sisters slack off, and helping cook dinners. He always helps those who ask, with little grumbling. He'll be a junior next year, and his post-high school interests haven't shifted much. He is still thinking of pursuing either geology or zoology, but he's unsure as to which school he wants to attend. He also remains a favorite with the students in my class, who love to tackle him every time they see him. He's always been amazing with younger children; a notable quality in a teenage boy.

Ems has been busy, busy, busy this year. To date, she has attended at least six CTE camps, covering career exploration, welding, small engine repair, cosmetology, and health care. In fact, she's currently out of town, having recently attended a camp at the University of Alaska-Anchorage, for a HOSA workshop and a health care class that allowed her to tour the facilities, and participate in some actual nursing procedures in a classroom setting. This particular camp was most ideal, since she has been accepted to, and will be attending UAA in the fall, to pursue a bachelor's in Nursing. She's already been taking dual credit classes to knock out some basics, as well as taken an introductory class to anatomy and physiology. She has also already secured a scholarship for academic performance, and is likely to secure one or two more. She's very excited about getting started on this next chapter, and I can't wait to see what twists and turns she'll experience out in the world. She really has come into her own, and it's good to see her formulating a plan that's going to push her out of her comfort zone. Of course, that means I get to experience round two of watching another child fly from the nest. She graduates May 18th! No worries. I'll be fine.

Jadyn, our eldest "child" (she's 20 now!) has stayed busy with online classes, and working as our Special Projects Coordinator on campus. She had more scholarships come through this year, and since she's not paying room and board, they've gone a long way to keeping her school debt at $0. Her tentative plans are to stay here another year working, and taking classes, to save money, and then transferring to UAA with little sister her senior year. After she finishes her BA in Psychology, she is seriously considering law school, since she has discovered just how much she loves engaging in informed, legal debates. (Hiding my shock face...) Selfishly, I've loved having her back for awhile, but I'm also looking forward to her getting back out into the big bad world. Life here does feel like it's outside the bubble, and the challenges here to one's comfort zone are small, other than basic survival, I suppose.

As for Philip and I, we signed our contract once again to teach next year. Every year we assess that choice, and it really has been a one-year-at-a-time trajectory. It remains so, since there are so many factors that determine that decision. In the meantime, as most of you know, Philip and I wrote a "children's" book, The Giving Moose. It started as a whimsical idea, that took over a year to complete. By the end of it, the story had deepened into one that touches on themes applicable all through adulthood, as well as highlighting cultural concepts that we have learned from our time here. It was a fun, yet painstaking process, trying to get it just right, and we gave it to several of our village elders to preview before taking it to publication. Our goal is not for fame and glory, but rather to have something that reaches beyond our personal time here, to share a story that transcends personal limitations. We also hope it gives children something real to read, in the midst of a publisher's wave of books centered around bathroom humor and emojis. We also wanted to have something tangible to give to our students, as a way of showing them they have taught us as much as we have taught them. Our end notes really hit on the challenges faced in village life along the Yukon River, and right now, the future looks bleak. It remains to be seen whether or not village life for people will even be possible here over the next 25 years, due to several confluencing factors.

Meanwhile, Philip is still working his way through grad school classes, pursuing his principal certification. He'll have one more class over the summer, and then next year is his internship year. It still humors me, since he's already doing so many things a principal does on our campus. He is our leader, no doubt. I'm always amazed at how many things that man can figure out on the fly, and juggle at one time, and on any given day, he has walked the equivalent of eight miles, just on campus. Literally. His smart watch has the evidence.

I have nothing of great significance to report about myself, other than I am still very satisfied with my job and our life here. Yes, there are bad days, but I'm better now at keeping them in perspective. I am very much looking forward to this summer, which is actually going to be strange one for Philip and I, because all four kids are traveling to Texas, shortly before the school year ends. Our elder two went last summer, and now for the first time since we moved, Josh and Ave will get to see friends and family again, in person. They all saved up their own money to pay for flights, and will be staying in Texas for about a month. This means that for the first time since our first year of marriage, Philip and I will be alone in the house, with no kids. I've come to think of this upcoming event as the "Empty Nest Rehearsal." After all, we only have four years left before that becomes a potential permanent status. I'm actually quite excited, as we both have our list of projects we want to get done. Writing more books, grad school work, wood shop projects, berry picking, cataloging an entire school library, teaching summer school, hiking along the river bank as far as we can go, just to see how far we can get; there's going to be more to do than the time we'll have. Of course, sprinkled through all of that will be the slow pace of morning coffees, puzzles, games, sketching, campfire dinners with a river view in our back yard, sleeping in (if we can), and working only by our own set schedule. I can't wait. We'll still have a month of summer left when the kids return, at which time we'll celebrate our annual Potter Party, and continue improving strategies of defeating the mosquitos and gnats (we're currently 0 and 3 against them.)

But for now, we have the end of the school year to get through, and the anticipation of our next big event: river break up. We've come to love clearing a path in the snow in our backyard to create seats, in which we'll watch the ice break up; big chunks churning and crashing into each other, the sounds of which we can hear from our yard. It's very peaceful and therapeutic to just sit and watch. The last two springs we've been here, the first major crack has happened on May 9th, with the ice going completely out about two days later. We anticipate this year will be a little later since it was colder, with less snow. But, we'll all start betting on our dates, and see who's right in the end. It does mean river travel is about to end for awhile, until all the ice goes out.

As always, we hope all is well with you and yours. Thanks for sticking with this novella to the end...I should do better this summer!