Thank you, Mom, for giving me an extra $20 for the road and depositing my last paycheck. Thank you, trio of hitch-hikers, for being good natured and hilarious as you crammed yourselves and your gear into my car from Soldotna to Anchorage, and for driving the last leg so I could take a nap. Thank you, Amanda, for buying me lunch at the Moose's tooth and sharing stories about living in India. Thank you, Dad, for buying me a fancy phone with GPS so that I'm not still lost in Anchorage. Thank you, Vanzants, for opening your beautiful home to me, sharing your homemade pizza and mead, and ensuring the best night's sleep I've had in ages. Thank you, bobcat, for crossing the road in front of me and locking eyes with me for a minute so I could be mesmerized by your ethereal feline beauty. Thank you, biker-chick, for helping me set up my tent in the wind. Thank you, tent, for staying dry during the most intense thunderstorm of my life. Thank you, left-front tire, for hanging on until Destruction Bay even though you had a staple embedded in your side. Thank you, Charlie, for accepting my last $17 in cash to patch up my tire. Thank you, James Taylor and Ben Harper, for soothing my nerves as I drove. Thank you, Haines Highway, for being the magnificent drive you always are. Thank you, Rita, for letting me stay in the loft of your kick-ass cabin tonight and showing me which bars have free wi-fi.
And thank you, life, for so warmly and enthusiastically returning my embrace.
Wednesday, August 18, 2010
Tuesday, August 10, 2010
the countdown begins
I was just halfway through a post and somehow lost it. And my short-term memory is not one of my strengths. So I'll just take this opportunity to write something else entirely.
It's windy out. The sun was streaming through the window earlier, but now it looks grey. I'm laying in bed on my side, propped up by one elbow, typing away on my little 11-inch laptop. My neck's starting to hurt because this is a really uncomfortable position. Okay, I'm sitting cross-legged now. That's better.
Sunday was my last day at the lodge. It was a bittersweet farewell. I loved that job. It has inspired me to consider running my own B&B. I enjoy the type of work it involves. Meeting and hosting people, cooking, cleaning, guiding. I especially enjoyed the cooking/baking for people. Getting paid to bake bread and cookies...having a lovely kitchen full of windows and counter space and fancy ovens. I especially love it when I have the kitchen all to myself. Listening to music while shaping a loaf of bread. I almost feel guilty being paid for that.
All this talk of food is making me hungry, so I think I'll go have some breakfast and figure out how I want to spend the second day of my last week in Homer (for a while).
Hope you are well and happy.
It's windy out. The sun was streaming through the window earlier, but now it looks grey. I'm laying in bed on my side, propped up by one elbow, typing away on my little 11-inch laptop. My neck's starting to hurt because this is a really uncomfortable position. Okay, I'm sitting cross-legged now. That's better.
Sunday was my last day at the lodge. It was a bittersweet farewell. I loved that job. It has inspired me to consider running my own B&B. I enjoy the type of work it involves. Meeting and hosting people, cooking, cleaning, guiding. I especially enjoyed the cooking/baking for people. Getting paid to bake bread and cookies...having a lovely kitchen full of windows and counter space and fancy ovens. I especially love it when I have the kitchen all to myself. Listening to music while shaping a loaf of bread. I almost feel guilty being paid for that.
All this talk of food is making me hungry, so I think I'll go have some breakfast and figure out how I want to spend the second day of my last week in Homer (for a while).
Hope you are well and happy.
Monday, August 2, 2010
If you blink, you'll miss it.
Summer in Alaska. It's such a frenzy of activity for all involved. Endless sunlight, explosive plant growth and animal activity, seasonal shops teeming with tourists, scruffy young fisherman scouring the seas, and late nights of live music and liquor.
By the end of it, everyone and everything is exhausted, making the dark, cozy, sleepiness of winter a welcome change of pace. At least until mid-January when cabin fever starts to set in.
I can't imagine living in a place that doesn't have distinct seasons. I think I would lose my mind. I need a way to tangibly feel the passage of time. I need that ebb and flow that creates a rhythmic cycle of alternating contrasts.
I'm starting to crave some routine, constancy and predictability in my life. And if I'm craving it now, I'm going to be ravenous for it by the time my road trip is over. Which, by the way, is happening in exactly two weeks. Two, busy, fleeting weeks which are going to slip through my fingers like...like something very slippery.
By the end of it, everyone and everything is exhausted, making the dark, cozy, sleepiness of winter a welcome change of pace. At least until mid-January when cabin fever starts to set in.
I can't imagine living in a place that doesn't have distinct seasons. I think I would lose my mind. I need a way to tangibly feel the passage of time. I need that ebb and flow that creates a rhythmic cycle of alternating contrasts.
I'm starting to crave some routine, constancy and predictability in my life. And if I'm craving it now, I'm going to be ravenous for it by the time my road trip is over. Which, by the way, is happening in exactly two weeks. Two, busy, fleeting weeks which are going to slip through my fingers like...like something very slippery.
Tuesday, July 27, 2010
at least I'm consistently inconsistent
And honest too, most of the time. I accidentally lie on occasion. I think I am genetically predisposed to "creative" memories. Memory is a fascinating thing. Being able to be conscious of a reality that no longer exists. Consciousness in general--being aware of our own existence. Life. Such an amazing, weird, bizarre, wonderful, horrifying, beautiful, tragic situation.
I love it.
Last night I got to help a friend "net owls" until 2 am. We didn't actually catch any to tag, but we did catch a little hermit thrush which I got to hold and release back into the night. I've decided that biologists are pretty much the coolest people there are. There's nothing more inspiring than seeing someone with a driving passion, who is truly fired up about what they do.
I leave town in less than three weeks. I'll be off the the open road, the kindness of strangers, credit card debt, and a great opportunity to get to know myself better. I might return to Homer for the winter, or I might not. I'll have all my essential belongings with me, so if I find a spot and a job I feel good about, I might settle down elsewhere for the winter. Yep. Into the great wide open, a rebel without a clue. Or a penny. But I have optimism, a sense of humor, and a good car.
It is my intention to take plenty of pictures and keep blogging along the way. I'm very curious to see where I end up come October.
I've also decided it's time to set my sights on my old dream of building a little homestead. I might try my best to persuade my parents to eventually sell their land in Homer to me. We'll see. It's a long-term goal, but it's nice to have dreams again. Dreams that belong to me.
I love it.
Last night I got to help a friend "net owls" until 2 am. We didn't actually catch any to tag, but we did catch a little hermit thrush which I got to hold and release back into the night. I've decided that biologists are pretty much the coolest people there are. There's nothing more inspiring than seeing someone with a driving passion, who is truly fired up about what they do.
I leave town in less than three weeks. I'll be off the the open road, the kindness of strangers, credit card debt, and a great opportunity to get to know myself better. I might return to Homer for the winter, or I might not. I'll have all my essential belongings with me, so if I find a spot and a job I feel good about, I might settle down elsewhere for the winter. Yep. Into the great wide open, a rebel without a clue. Or a penny. But I have optimism, a sense of humor, and a good car.
It is my intention to take plenty of pictures and keep blogging along the way. I'm very curious to see where I end up come October.
I've also decided it's time to set my sights on my old dream of building a little homestead. I might try my best to persuade my parents to eventually sell their land in Homer to me. We'll see. It's a long-term goal, but it's nice to have dreams again. Dreams that belong to me.
Friday, July 16, 2010
precarious precipices
I'm two days overdue for this post. But like any kind of minor or major slip-up in life, time that has passed, has passed, and things done or undone can't be changed. Thankfully, I still have now, and now is wide open with possibility. Like the possibility of me taking a moment to write about my life.
I have a week off from work while the owners of the lodge are out of town at a wedding. I was hoping to do some socializing, after my last off-time being fairly quiet and solitary. Coincidentally (or consequently, depending on your opinion) I recieved not one, but three separate couchsurfing requests for this week!
The first one, Dax, is a psychobiologist from Florida who is currently doing field work near Fairbanks for 30 day stints throughout the summer. She had a few weeks off and has been exploring the Kenai Peninsula before she goes back out again. I met up with her in town and we did a little bit of touristy sightseeing, and eventually had an interesting night out, winning first prize for "craft night" at Kharacters, the only local bar that had live music on a Tuesday night. The next night we headed over to the lodge, joining my little brother, my coworker, and her sister. We did a little kayaking, played chess (someday I will actually win a game of chess), and then went out exploring for an "extreme hammocking" site. We climbed around on the rocks for a while and eventually crossed a rocky little beach over to a steep face where someone had already rigged up a rope. We got up easily and found the perfect setup--two trees, just the right spacing, right on the very edge of a cliff over the bay. After Dax retied my improvised knots, I climbed into the hammock, hanging over what I'm guessing was about 70 to 80 feet over jagged rocks and crashing surf. It was fantastic! It was such an odd contrast, the precarious nature of the setup was more than a little unnerving, but the soothing embrace of the hammock was so comforting and secure feeling. It seemed to me to be a good representation of life as a whole. Sure, it was dangerous. There was risk involved. But my experience of it all depended on what I focused my attention on. If I had concentrated on everything that could go wrong, it would've been miserable. But I didn't. I enjoyed the incredible view, the sound of the water, the feel of the sun on my face, and the growing sense of peace and relaxation as I let go and sunk down into the hammock.
Death isn't something we can escape. I'm not promoting recklessness. I'm just coming to realize that there are a lot of worthwhile risks in life that I have avoided taking. Sometimes approaching the edge a little more, and sensing and appreciating our mortality, can enrich life in a way nothing else can. I'm a sensitive enough person that I probably won't ever have to do anything much riskier than hanging a hammock over a cliff to achieve that perspective, but I do need to to something like that from time to time.
And then we got stranded. We are both experienced enough around the ocean to know that tides can change things rather quickly, but while we were enjoying the hammocks and sunshine, we lost track of time, and our little peninsula had turned into a full-blown island. Oops. Luckily it only took a couple more hours for the tide to turn again and our path to reappear. All it meant was more lounging in the lovely day, getting sap in my hair and sunburning my nose.
This has been a summer of high highs and low lows. I've made some careless mistakes. A couple I even seriously regret. But I'm experiencing life, learning some lessons I'd managed to avoid by being tediously cautious for so long, and getting to know myself better than I ever have.
Today Dax and I plan to kayak to Glacier Spit and hike up the trail there. Its a sunny, cloudless day. We'll head back to Homer tonight, and tomorrow pick up Zuphit, (couchsurfer #2) who is from Israel and has spent the past year traveling all over the world. I'm sure she'll have some great stories to tell.
Love,
Leeann
I have a week off from work while the owners of the lodge are out of town at a wedding. I was hoping to do some socializing, after my last off-time being fairly quiet and solitary. Coincidentally (or consequently, depending on your opinion) I recieved not one, but three separate couchsurfing requests for this week!
The first one, Dax, is a psychobiologist from Florida who is currently doing field work near Fairbanks for 30 day stints throughout the summer. She had a few weeks off and has been exploring the Kenai Peninsula before she goes back out again. I met up with her in town and we did a little bit of touristy sightseeing, and eventually had an interesting night out, winning first prize for "craft night" at Kharacters, the only local bar that had live music on a Tuesday night. The next night we headed over to the lodge, joining my little brother, my coworker, and her sister. We did a little kayaking, played chess (someday I will actually win a game of chess), and then went out exploring for an "extreme hammocking" site. We climbed around on the rocks for a while and eventually crossed a rocky little beach over to a steep face where someone had already rigged up a rope. We got up easily and found the perfect setup--two trees, just the right spacing, right on the very edge of a cliff over the bay. After Dax retied my improvised knots, I climbed into the hammock, hanging over what I'm guessing was about 70 to 80 feet over jagged rocks and crashing surf. It was fantastic! It was such an odd contrast, the precarious nature of the setup was more than a little unnerving, but the soothing embrace of the hammock was so comforting and secure feeling. It seemed to me to be a good representation of life as a whole. Sure, it was dangerous. There was risk involved. But my experience of it all depended on what I focused my attention on. If I had concentrated on everything that could go wrong, it would've been miserable. But I didn't. I enjoyed the incredible view, the sound of the water, the feel of the sun on my face, and the growing sense of peace and relaxation as I let go and sunk down into the hammock.
Death isn't something we can escape. I'm not promoting recklessness. I'm just coming to realize that there are a lot of worthwhile risks in life that I have avoided taking. Sometimes approaching the edge a little more, and sensing and appreciating our mortality, can enrich life in a way nothing else can. I'm a sensitive enough person that I probably won't ever have to do anything much riskier than hanging a hammock over a cliff to achieve that perspective, but I do need to to something like that from time to time.
And then we got stranded. We are both experienced enough around the ocean to know that tides can change things rather quickly, but while we were enjoying the hammocks and sunshine, we lost track of time, and our little peninsula had turned into a full-blown island. Oops. Luckily it only took a couple more hours for the tide to turn again and our path to reappear. All it meant was more lounging in the lovely day, getting sap in my hair and sunburning my nose.
This has been a summer of high highs and low lows. I've made some careless mistakes. A couple I even seriously regret. But I'm experiencing life, learning some lessons I'd managed to avoid by being tediously cautious for so long, and getting to know myself better than I ever have.
Today Dax and I plan to kayak to Glacier Spit and hike up the trail there. Its a sunny, cloudless day. We'll head back to Homer tonight, and tomorrow pick up Zuphit, (couchsurfer #2) who is from Israel and has spent the past year traveling all over the world. I'm sure she'll have some great stories to tell.
Love,
Leeann
Wednesday, July 7, 2010
before things get busy
I'm writing a brief note so I don't get in trouble for posting late. I think tomorrow is my deadline, but we have guests coming to the lodge Friday, so things are going to be hectic until mid-next week. I've been caretaking the lodge while the owners have been at a fish camp. It's been nice, except for the dog killing chickens, running away and getting stranded, tearing up the house, and injuring his leg. Poor guy. My brother thinks he's going to be exiled because he killed a second chicken. We'll see. My mom came out for two nights. I'm glad she had a chance to relax and have some peace and quiet. Oh, and I hosted my very first couchsurfer last week! It was so much fun. I think I may have made a lifelong friend.
I've been almost crazed about planning my fall trip. I have a way of getting so immersed by things I'm excited about. But everything is falling into place so far. Ferry is booked, a couple of couchsurfing hosts are already booked. Now I just need to focus on gathering supplies I'll need. I want to spend as little as possible, so I'm going to try to find or borrow everything else I need. I need to check out Homer's freecycle group. I still have some time, but I know the next few weeks are going to fly by, with work being pretty busy.
Time to finish up some things around this place before everyone gets back. I'll try to remember to write a more thoughtful post sometime when I am not so distracted and rushed.
I'm happy. Did I mention that? For most of my life I've felt like I was waiting for something to signal its beginning. "Someday" I would do all these things I want to do. I don't have that sense anymore. For the first time, I feel like I am in it. I feel like the driver, rather than the passenger I was for so long. I'm actually enjoying being single, which is also a first. Honestly, not planning my life around a guy is unfamiliar territory for me. But I have to say, I'm fully enjoying it. I'm so glad I finally got to this point.
Love to you all,
Leeann
Thursday, July 1, 2010
and the days go by
It's amazing how time is flying this summer. Working, making new friends, planning my trip, it's all a blur sometimes. But an enjoyable blur. I feel really good about where I am at in my life right now. I have grown as a person by leaps and bounds, and my slef-confidence level is at an all-time high. I am still a bit shy, and fearful, but I have come such a long way from where I was a couple of years ago. For the first time, I feel like I am actually living my life, rather than waiting for some sort of event after which it will officially begin. It has begun, it is being. I'm happily immersed in it. And I'm enjoying being single and independent, which is also a first. And long overdue. I have finally decided to initiate the "me" time of my life, where I find out exactly what kind of lifestyle I want, and which parts of myself I want to fully embrace and develop. I am no longer shaping and molding myself to be someone I think others will like best. I am being true to my true self, and it is a very good feeling.
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