The View From the North

Mommy Blog: Obligatory Halloween Post

2011-11-06T21:15:00.001-09:00

Now that I have a child, I'm pretty sure I'm supposed to do a blog post about Halloween. I mean, what's the point of dressing up said child if you can't share it with the whole wide Internet? By the way, if the Halloween post doesn't go up until a week after Halloween, does it still count? So many things I'm still trying to learn...

Kaitlyn's first Halloween was a smashing success. As soon as we got to the school she was whisked away by school employees (Kaitlyn has quite a fan club). The kindergarten teacher took this picture of her.

Do I get Mommy Bonus Points for dressing in a coordinating costume?

In case you were wondering exactly how cute we were... we both had tails.

Note to readers: My mostly sincere apologies to anyone who is offended by the above tailage.

Despite our best efforts, Daddy was not willing to go along with the farm theme ("But Steve, you'll ruin Kaitlyn's first Halloween").

Kaitlyn also had a Halloween outfit to wear while we handed out candy to trick-or-treaters.

I had a second Halloween outfit too. :) Daddy was once again a party-pooper. Kaitlyn, however, was a real trooper. She came with me to answer the door almost every time. She only tried eating candy out of the bowl seven times.

Is it embarrassing to admit that my daughter had more than one Halloween costume?

We were a bit indecisive this Halloween.

We briefly considered combining the two costumes. I think it's best that we didn't. Cows and tutus don't belong together.

Note to readers: No actual candy was consumed during the taking of the above photograph. One fun size Butterfinger was only harmed temporarily by baby drool.

Happy Halloween.

*This post sponsored by grandmothers who can't help but buy festive things for their grandchildren...

Mommy Blog: Dangerous Pursuits and Other Cuteness

2011-10-23T17:39:00.000-08:00

This is how I found Kaitlyn when I went to get her after a nap a few days ago. It's only a matter of time before she's trying to crawl out of the crib...

This is Kaitlyn standing up on the swing. Someday this will not end well.

On a more positive note, you can see her teeth! Enjoy them because she doesn't show them off very often.

Kaitlyn holding her own bottle. A triumphant parenting moment.

Kaitlyn's BFF helping her with a little meal.

The face I get to see while I'm cooking dinner. Lucky me.

Mommy Blog: Progress We're Not Exactly Excited About

2011-10-13T16:59:00.000-08:00

Kaityn's been learning how to do new things. We're not exactly excited about them.

That's right ladies and gentlemen...

Kaitlyn can now pull herself up on things.

And while she looks adorable, it means our lives will never be the same.

Here's another one of her favorite tricks.

What? You can't tell what's going on in this picture?

Note to readers: for maximum enjoyment of this and the next picture, please notice that Kaitlyn is only wearing one sock. That happens a lot around here...

How about now? A baby on top of the stereo receiver and DVD player. What could possibly go wrong with that?

The final piece of bad news is that Kaitlyn's hair is now long enough to "be fixed." 500 small black rubber bands came in the mail yesterday, so now there is no excuse to not fix Kaitlyn's hair.

This may not seem like such a travesty, but it is. Readers who knew me growing up will understand why this is so scary to me.

Note to readers regarding the above photo: This was the best I could do. I am aware that her hands are cut off. And she's not looking. And there's a funky shadow. Please do not let it get in the way of enjoying this blog post. Thank you.

Additional note to readers: I am formally sorry for any baby blog pictures that I have judged in the past. Taking pictures of babies is hard. My respect goes out to anyone who even tries.

(I am the one on the left.) Not too bad, huh? That's because my mom did my hair.

(I am, again, on the left.) My mom was still doing my hair at this point, but it was starting to get out of control (Hey Mom! Thanks for the poofy bangs!) (Hey 1980s! Thanks for the crimping fad!)

(I'm on the far right.) But this. This I have to take full responsibility for. Not only did I dress myself, but I did my own hair.

(I'm the one standing on the far right.) I was way old enough to do my own hair at this point...

(I'm standing in the back left corner.) And the results were not pretty. Could my bangs be any thicker?

My sister Mandy's hair always looked nice. And she's fixed her own hair since about second grade. Sigh. (Hey Universe! Why are you so unfair?) Anytime in my life my hair has looked nice (Prom, my wedding, occasional church meetings when I begged her to help me out), it's because Mandy did it. Unfortunately, Mandy is far away from Alaska, or I would outsource the duty of fixing Kaitlyn's hair in a heartbeat.

So, Kaitlyn, I apologize for the years you are about to endure. It won't be easy. And you'll probably look back and cringe. There will be times you will wonder, "Why me?" Just remember, the alternative is Daddy fixing your hair...

Mommy Blog: Adventures in Baby Feeding- Part Two

2011-09-21T23:16:00.001-08:00

Today was the day we started Kaitlyn on food other than cereal. After obsessively reading all information I could find about what food to try first, I settled on avocados.

This is what Kaitlyn thought of my choice.

Even after some of the familiar rice cereal, she was still dazed...

Field Trip: Berry Picking

2011-09-18T17:16:00.000-08:00

I got to go berry picking with this little guy yesterday.

Astute VFN readers will notice that the little cutie is wearing a life jacket. And in front of a background of water. That's because we were on a boat. The good berries are always a little ways outside of town.

We stopped by the white truck. Apparently, it's a local landmark.

We were surrounded by beautiful fall colors.

At our feet were berries. They grow really close to the ground.

These are the berries from this post. They are called blackberries by people around here, but another name for them is crowberries. They are less desirable than blueberries or cranberries, but they were the most plentiful, so I decided to pick them.

My little boating buddy picked shotgun shells.

I was quite pleased with how many berries I got in a few hours. The women from Brevig and Shishmaref would probably laugh if they saw how few berries I got. They typically pick up to twenty-five gallons a season.

The berries are beautiful. I look forward to enjoying them this winter.

Mommy Blog: Kaitlyn Lately

2011-09-12T18:11:00.000-08:00

Taking the advice of my esteemed readers, I'm going to embrace the concept of the mommy blog. I'm not ready to give up all of VFN to mommy land, but I am willing to create a new category: Mommy Blog.

This is Kaitlyn's pose of choice. She seriously does it all the time, complete with her arm stuck out.

Bathtime is fun time. Now that Mommy has mastered the art of the getting the temperature right, Kaitlyn really enjoys her baths.

The drying off part is not so much fun...

Kaitlyn loves to stick out her tongue. Daddy insists it is a sign of intelligence.

We've officially entered the teething stage. Two coming in on the bottom, and two ready to pop out on top. That means a lot of drool, a little bit of fussiness, and a daily struggle to apply Anbesol.

Pro: Late Sunrises

2011-09-04T09:06:00.002-08:00

Anyone who knows me well knows that I don't do mornings. I ~~am super crabby~~ need some time to wake up and adjust to a new day before I talk to anybody or do anything. As such, the number of sunrises I've witnessed in my lifetime is very small.

Until I moved to Alaska. Daylight is coming later and later everyday, putting a sunrise within the realm of possibility.

I popped out of bed at 7:15am on Saturday (that doesn't sound impressive, but it's a good four hours earlier than normal on a Saturday) for no apparent reason. When I looked out the window, the sky was lit up in pink and purple. It was so gorgeous that I woke Steve up to share it with me (~~Irritatingly~~, Steve is a morning person. That is why waking him up was a good idea. If the situation were reversed, waking me up would be hazardous to Steve's well-being).

Steve watched the baby while I went outside to pursue the sunrise with my camera. That's when I got this:

No photoshop. No color enhancement. No nothing. Just plain beauty.

When I turned around, I saw a rainbow. Best. Morning. Ever.

Introducing Cooking In Bush Alaska

2011-09-02T22:47:00.001-08:00

You may have noticed that VFN has been sort of preoccupied with food lately. That's because the editor-in-chief has recently found herself with a lot more time to cook and experiment in the kitchen.

Lest my faithful readers get overwhelmed by all the deliciousness, I decided to start a food blog. Those of you who are into food, cooking, and eating can enjoy all of my culinary adventures. Those of you that are just here for the witty commentary about life in Alaska can enjoy that commentary without all of this food stuff getting in the way.

I reposted all of the VFN Creative Cooking posts on the new blog just to flesh it out a little, but there's some new stuff. Expect more.

Cooking in Bush Alaska

Check it out.

Fun Fact: My Favorite Way to Eat Berries

2011-09-01T10:18:00.004-08:00

I was going to tell you that these berries were Alaskan blueberries, but then I did an internet search to make sure. It turns out I've been misidentifying these berries for almost seven years. According to this and this they are blackberries or crowberries.

At any rate, the above picture is of Alaskan berries. They grow near Shishmaref and Brevig Mission.

Frozen berries are best served in a little glass bowl...

sprinkled with sugar...

and covered with evaporated milk (my friend Ginger uses half and half, but I don't keep that around the house).

The milk crystallizes around the frozen berries, and the sugar makes it just sweet enough.

Mmmmmmmm. The bounty of Alaska.

Creative Cooking: Salmon Yakitori

2011-08-30T21:40:00.001-08:00

This is what Steve brought home from his initial fishing adventure.

Isn't it beautiful?

This is the freshest salmon I have ever cooked with. From the ocean to the net to my hands in mere hours.

I went to my delicious bookmarks and looked up salmon. I rediscovered yakitori, a recipe I've been meaning to try from one of my favorite food blogs.

I started with a little sugar.

Note to readers: I attempted to be artistic while taking these photos and placed the salmon in the background of every ingredient picture. Consider appreciating that. Thank you.

Some smashed garlic.

Note to readers: If you use a knife to smash garlic cloves, use the same knife to slice a cucumber, and eat that cucumber slice, it is a bad idea. Trust me.

The original recipe called for rice wine. I had no rice wine. The suggested substitute was apple juice. I had no apple juice. I had a packet of caramel apple cider, but I thought that might throw the flavor of the dish off... I ended up using rice vinegar.

Because I'm an idiot, I added oil to the marinade. The oil was supposed to be used when cooking the salmon. Oops. Luckily, I don't think it ruined everything. In fact, because I used sesame oil, the flavor may have even been enhanced.

I had the foresight to mix the marinade in a ziploc bag...

which made it really easy to let the salmon chunks soak up the goodness overnight.

These pictures aren't the greatest, but I wanted to add them to prove I actually did make this dish. The above picture is the marinated salmon in (some more) sesame oil.

This is the salmon when it was done. (Again, the photo is primarily to prove my culinary activity, in fact, took place.)

The finished yakitori. Even my non-fish-eating husband enjoyed it.

Fishing With Teachers or The Post in Which I Use the Word Fillet As Often As Possible

2011-08-27T23:38:00.001-08:00

Steve and I have lived in Alaska for going on seven years, and we went fishing for the first time today. This was a massive act of love on Steve's part because he doesn't even like fish.

Last night a few of the teachers put a net in the water. The net is attached to the white buoys you can see in the pictures above.

We pulled the net to shore looking for fish.

Okay, so the use of the word "we" was a little generous. Steve was the only Alston that did any of the actual pulling of the net.

The fish get tangled as they try to swim through the net.

Steve was a pro at untangling the fish.

The lineup. Notice the sanitary conditions. :)

Me with the future fillet.

Steve humored me and posed for a fish picture too.

The beginning of the fillet. A nice slice below the head.

Hard at work in the filleting process.

The other filleting stations.

This is what was left after I was done filleting. The leftovers were donated to one of the local dogsled teams.

The fillets were reserved for human consumption. I took a couple and cooked them in a bit of hot vegetable oil. After a couple of minutes, I put them in the oven.

Note to readers: the pictured fillet was not filleted by me. It was filleted by another teacher earlier in the day.

While the fillet baked, I gathered some of this beautiful lemon zest.

I added the zest to some butter, shallots, and lemon juice, inspired by this.

The finished fillet with the sauce. It was delicious. Even Steve agreed. Maybe there's something to this fishing thing after all...

Adventures in Feeding a Baby

2011-08-24T18:26:00.000-08:00

It was time for this little lady to eat something besides formula.

We started off introducing the spoon.

Immediate success. Spoon to mouth. Check.

Then we added a little rice cereal.

Bland, yet satisfying.

We ended with a slightly messy but reasonably happy baby.

I got a little excited about the prospect of feeding Kaitlyn, so I started to prepare for the days beyond rice cereal.

Hello, food processor.

Hello, cute baby in a walker while Mommy works in the kitchen.

Am I a bad mom if I didn't take the time to smooth the baby food in the ice cube trays?

Note to Readers: Broccoli does not make good baby food.

After a few more days of rice cereal practice we made the above progress. Notice how she is opening her mouth for the spoon. Notice also how her tongue is on the side of the high chair tray. :)

This little girl is well on her way to entering the world of solid food.

***Apologies to readers if this post is suspiciously like a mommy blog. Commentary on life in rural Alaska will resume shortly.

Introducing Kaitlyn Emily

2011-04-30T23:40:00.001-08:00

Just a little over a month ago, Steve and I were given the opportunity of a lifetime: adoption.

We got the call that our baby was being born on Monday, March 21, but bad weather in Brevig Mission kept me in town until the next morning (it was an agonizing night of waiting).

While I was traveling, this little lady was born.

I got to the hospital in Anchorage about six hours later, and she looked more like this.

As the adoptive mother, I got to stay in the hospital with Kaitlyn. We had matching identification bracelets. I slept in a bed next to her bassinet. I got to wake up to feed and change her. I loved it.

I had to buy a carseat so that I could take her home from the hospital.

Note to readers: please don't judge me because I let my daughter go home from the hospital wearing hospital-issue clothes. Thank you.

The scariest part of the trip was the flight from Nome to Brevig Mission. I was wearing Kaitlyn in a baby carrier under my jacket. I was terrified that I was going going to smother her. I was also afraid to check on her because I didn't want her to get sick from the cold. I spent most of the flight praying like crazy and straining to hear her breathe.

Needless to stay, we made it home safely.

Daddy came home for lunch to meet his little baby.

It was love at first sight.

We aren't the only ones who love Kaitlyn. Her birthmother is from Brevig Mission, so there is a host of grandparents, aunts, uncles, and cousins that adore her. People have been bringing over clothes and gifts (including the hat in the above picture) since we got home. It's amazing.

To prove we are first-time parents, Steve and I do things like take take pictures of the first time we changed her clothes...

And taking nearly identical photos of Kaitlyn sleeping and sending them to the grandparents.

We also think that every little thing she does is cute enough to warrant preserving for posterity.

Even her crying is cute...

But we certainly prefer moments like these.

We are tired. We are thrilled. We are grateful. We are happy.

Look for more Kaitlyn posts in the near future.

Things We Never Thought We'd Do: Adopt a Village Mutt

2010-12-04T14:08:00.003-09:00

I had some very good reasons for not liking dogs:

-my mom's dog nipped at my heels every time I walked into my parents' bedroom

-my sister Mandy always forced herself to gag at the sight of dog food, resulting in me feeding the dog WAY MORE than my fair share (Hey Mandy! I haven't forgotten about this!)

-doggie doo patrol was a regular part of of "being a family" (or so my mom said)

But, on Easter 2010 I was walking from house to house visiting my favorite babies, when I came across this pretty thing. It embarrasses me to to say this, but have you ever seen a more gorgeous puppy?

I thought about her the rest of the day. And when it was nighttime, I went searching for her and brought her home.

She made herself comfortable, and after searching for her real owner and the exchange of some cash, she was ours. We named her Sadie.

(Note to readers: The name Sadie was on our short-list of names for any potential daughters we may have in the future. I insist that using the name for a dog REMOVES the name from the potential baby list. Steve insists otherwise. It's still a point of debate around our house.)

Sadie was willing to take time from her busy schedule to answer a few questions.

View from the North: What did you do all day as a puppy?

Sadie Alston: Steve and Angie tried barricading me in the kitchen. But, in addition to looking absolutely pitiful, I was a little escape artist. They eventually got a generously-sized kennel for me to stay in.

VFN: Wow, being cooped up in a cage doesn't sound very fun.

SA: It wasn't. That's why I whined a lot the first few days.

VFN: Did they leave you in there all the time?

SA: No, they took me on walks.

VFN: In the snow?

SA: I think they liked it.

VFN: How did Steve and Angie adjust to being puppy parents?

SA: They did all right. They were obsessed with keeping me clean. Steve said something about me smelling funny. Unfortunately, Steve didn't know that I'm absolutely terrified of water. That was a fun surprise.

VFN: Did they have all of the equipment necessary to take care of a dog.

SA: Ha! They had nothing! My first toys were pieces of rope tied in knots and soaked in beef bullion.

VFN: That sounds rough.

SA: Angie overcompensated by buying me designer stuff. Steve was absolutely appalled, and Angie has since decided that kind of shopping is unnecessary. It was good while it lasted.

VFN: Who do you like better, Angie or Steve?

SA: Angie is nicer to me, but I like Steve better.

VFN: Did you have any friends in Shishmaref?

SA: There were a few neighbor dogs I ran around with, but I was a little young for permanent attachments. There's nobody I keep in touch with.

VFN: What did you do for the summer?

SA: I was going to stay in Alaska, but Grandma Alston insisted on meeting me. She said I wasn't quite as good as Steve and Angie having a baby but almost. I split my time between both sets of grandparents.

VFN: Don't Angie's parents have two ridiculously spoiled wiener dogs? How did you get along?

SA: Grandma and Grandpa Busch were afraid that I would use the tiny one as a chew toy, but I just ignored her because she yipped at me a lot (man, that was annoying!). The medium-sized one and I were great friends. She even shared her bed with me.

VFN: What about the rest of the family?

SA: They were nice. Uncle Joe was a little weird, but I hear there's one in every family.

VFN: Did you pick up any strange habits while visiting the Busch House?

SA: Grandma Busch helped me discover that I like to eat watermelon rinds. She would save them for me.

VFN: What was your least favorite part of the summer?

SA: Well, there was one extremely invasive surgery. Also, Steve tried to teach me to be unafraid of water.

VFN: I didn't know Steve was a swimming instructor.

SA: He's not. His lessons basically consisted of repeatedly tossing me in the St. Joe River and making me swim to shore.

VFN: How did you like the move to Brevig Mission?

SA: There are a lot more places to walk in Brevig Mission. Angie used to take me on walks every day.

VFN: Used to? What happened?

SA: It got icy. I thought the ice beautifully reflected the sunsets, but Angie has this fear of falling.

VFN: Isn't that fear sort of well-founded?

SA: Definitely, given her history. Although, I personally think she's a little whiny.

VFN: Isn't it also really dark now?

SA: Yeah, Angie promises the walks will start up again once it gets lighter out. I'll believe it when I see it.

VFN would like to apologize for degenerating into the kind of blog that spends an entire post on a dog. It was never VFN's intention to blog about a dog, let alone adopt one. Please consider continuing to read this blog. Thank you.

My Love-Hate Relationship With Snow

2010-12-02T22:33:00.000-09:00

I used to love snow. I associated it with Christmas, sledding, hot chocolate, and all sorts of happy memories. Now I have a whole different set of associations: a stinging face and close calls with frostbite, puddles in my house that get my socks wet, and walking to and from school in the dark.

I could enjoy snow for about two weeks. Unfortunately, it arrives in October and stays through May.

Snow does, on occasion, make for some beautiful scenery. (Disclaimer: this is not a local photo. It was taken in Juneau. And since you were wondering, it's Mendenhall Glacier.)

There is even beautiful local scenery.

And yummy local scenery.

Then there was coaching cross country skiing. That was fun. And snow is a relatively imperative aspect of the sport...

~~Wandering around~~ Purposefully conditioning with the ski team allowed access to some pretty striking views.

And when ski practice takes place during sunset. Boy howdy, that's beautiful!

Cold weather brings out the most adorable cold weather gear. Seriously, could this little guy BE any cuter?

And there's something about Eskimo cheeks that look even more compelling when bundled in fleece...

Of course, there are also less than cute cold-weather outfits.

But my main beef against snow is the accompanying slipperiness. Packed snow that has been repeatedly trod upon is very slippery. So is ice. One Inupiaq word that I've become very familiar with over the last five and a half years is "kataq." It means to slip or fall.

This picture was taken after one of my early kataqs. I was on skis. I fell flat on my back. I was surrounded by laughing children. It wasn't one of my proudest moments.

In addition to leaving me sprawled across the ground, my kataqs have caused: trips to the clinic, prescriptions for heavy-duty pain medication, and physical therapy. For reals.

This winter, I’m trying to take a stand against the slipperiness by religiously wearing YakTrax. I haven’t had a single fall since I started wearing them (although there was one close call involving a metal grate that I don't really want to talk about.)

(By the way, do you love my boots? I inherited them from the teacher before me. Hey Sandy! Thanks for leaving your boots in Brevig!)

Who knows, maybe the YakTrax will change how I feel about snow. Maybe.

Creative Cooking: Zucchini Cake

2010-03-21T23:29:00.001-08:00

It started with these... We got some zucchini in our CSA box. Being as I'd already dabbled in savory zucchini delicacies, I decided to try something sweet. I turned to my buddy the Amateur Gourmet to figure out what to do with it. Olive oil cake sounded a little strange, but Adam has rarely led me astray.

Note to readers: Only one zucchini chunk was harmed in the shooting of this photo. (I considered picking the chunk up and using it anyway, but I haven't mopped my floor in a while.)

Update: Since beginning this post, I have mopped my floor. You're welcome.

The recipe called for grated zucchini, but I put the zucchini in my food processor (believe the reviews, this baby is as LOUD as a jet engine). I think I overdid it on the processing thing, but subtlety has never been one of my strengths.

Note to Readers: I do not in any way consider myself qualified to give useful recommendations about household appliances, but I want to say a few things about my blender/food processor. I don't love it, but it gets the job done. I only bought it because I couldn't justify one of these. Actually, I had no trouble justifying the aforementioned blender of bliss. I just knew that Steve would retaliate by buying one of these. Then I would be forced to buy this. The whole thing could spiral out of control very quickly.

The recipe called for toasted walnuts.

They also ended up in the food processor. And got over-processed. (I think they were supposed to end up walnut chunks, not dust...)

I have a problem.

My mood improved dramatically when I got to use my sifter on the flour and spices.

I had a moral dilemma when I looked at the ingredients list of my shortening tub. WARNING: SOAP BOX AHEAD I just finished reading Michael Pollan's In Defense of Food. A lot of what Pollan said really resonated with me, and I've been making an effort to be more mindful of the things I eat. I needed to grease the bundt pan, but the shortening had all kinds of multi-syllabic ingredients that I only vaguely recognized.

Butter was much more sensible. Ingredients: cream (milk), salt.

But butter is expensive. And I only needed to grease the pan. And is it even worth debating the health of individual ingredients when making a cake? That you will probably eat mostly by yourself?

If I had been thinking, I would have used olive oil. I'm kind of embarrassed to admit this, but the reason I didn't is because I was afraid it would make the cake taste funny. It seems I temporarily forgot that the name of this cake was OLIVE OIL Zuchinni. Duh.

I ended up using the butter. I expect to reach food nirvana sometime tomorrow afternoon.

After wrestling with my culinary conscience about the greasing of the pan, I mixed up the ingredients into a moderately thick batter...

And baked it in my bundt pan.

Note to Readers: This is the third time I've used the bundt pan this school year.

Note to Steve: It was still totally worth it.

The glaze consisted of lemon juice, sugar, and powdered sugar. I didn't even bother contemplating the nutritional value.

The finished cake showed no signs of the inner turmoil it generated.

In fact, it will probably be made again.

Full disclosure: I am not making any money from any of the links in this post. I was just in a facetious mood and felt like over-linking. It happens.

Pro: Funny Kids

2010-02-09T00:05:00.001-09:00

I'm sure there are funny kids everywhere. But I happen to think there are a higher concentration of them in Shishmaref.

This book was made by a student that used to be in Steve's class. He's in sixth grade now. He delivered this book to me after school.

Note to readers: I think the title is supposed to read "The Appreciation of Steve and Angie Alston: The Disaster Sequence"

Additional Note to readers: I am totally impressed by the use of the colon in the above title. And the fact that Alfred nailed Steve's goatee.

Additional-al Note to Readers: Does anybody else think that the phrase "The Disaster Sequence" is especially clever?

This is Alfred's perception of how I would react if Steve ever forgot our anniversary. It's surprisingly accurate. (For the record, Steve has never forgotten our anniversary. I think it's partly because I quiz him on the date about every ten days.)

Note to Readers: While the Angie to Steve height ratio is a little skewed (I'm not typically twice as tall as Mr. A), my svelte figure is eerily realistic (yeah right).

Apparently, Alfred thinks that Steve and I settle our disputes in the boxing ring. (For maximum enjoyment, notice the peace sign Steve's cartoon is making in the upper left hand corner.

Note to Readers: Monday Night Raw is an actual wrestling program (or used to be), but I didn't know that until I looked it up on Wikipedia.

Informational Note to Readers: K.O. stands for knockout. And I knew that without Wikipedia because sometimes I play ~~nerdy comic book character~~ Superhero Battle Simulation Games with Steve.

Note to My Students: Wikipedia is NOT an appropriate source for a research paper.

(Sorry for the fact that I have no skills and can't seem to size the above photo correctly. My speaking bubble reads, "I am tired of u being lazy and playing games.")

Cartoon Angie was dissatisfied with the results of the boxing match, so she decided to hit Steve where it hurts. I admit that I have threatened to smash Steve's X-box before, but I was only semi-serious.

For maximum enjoyment, notice the angry eyes on my cartoon.

Note to Readers: This panel was kind of traumatic for Steve because when he was a little boy, his Star Wars X-Wing was smashed by a hammer as a punishment for some type of inappropriate behavior. The man wielding the hammer was Steve's dad. The one who ordered the wielding of the hammer was Steve's mom.

Note to Brave Readers: Steve's mom gets really embarrassed if this story is mentioned (which pretty much happens every time we're in town).

"You never gave me a love card." Ha! This is what I am now going to say every time I am unhappy. I'm serious.

Maximum Enjoyment Tip: Notice the authentically-shaped 360 controller.

Cartoon Angie has managed to find a club that's either moving very quickly or has large flexible spikes. She wields it on the unsuspecting Steve (who has somehow reparied the X-box) but ends up falling prey to the call of Steve's games.

And that is how we know this is a work of fiction. But I think I proved my original point. Kids in Shishmaref are funny.

Creative Cooking: Bread in Five Minutes a Day

2010-01-28T02:09:00.000-09:00

No-knead bread started showing up on several of my favorite food blogs quite a while ago. I've also been meaning to read this book (unfortunately, I'm a complete cheapskate, so the book has not been purchased).

I really loved the five-minutes-a-day idea because sometimes I can be kind of lazy when it comes to cooking (this is a problem because my husband thinks that tater-tot casserole, chili mac, and meatloaf count as "meals" (Hey Mom Alston! Sorry you haven't won me over to the meatloaf loving way of life! I still hate it but appreciate your conversion efforts!). The basic premise of this philosophy is that you make a big batch of dough and use it daily/almost daily over the course of two weeks. I settled on trying this recipe, which was recommended as a good starting place. (You can also just have at it with a simple ratio, but I ~~was lazy~~ wasn't confident enough.)

You begin by throwing all of the ingredients together. (I use my KitchenAid because I heart it.) I doubled the recipe because I wanted enough for eight loaves instead of four.

The dough will seem pretty runny, but that's okay.

When you realize that you got confused and tripled the amount of salt, baking soda, and yeast, you need to go back and add more water and flour, thus making enough dough for twelve loaves.

The dough needs to sit on the counter for a couple of hours. If you want to be able to use your Kitchen Aid during the resting time, you should probably transfer the dough to another container. If you had a momentary brain lapse and tripled the recipe because you were too lazy to use ratios, you will probably need to let the dough rest in two bowls...

But, you should make sure that they are both big bowls. Otherwise you will have an overflowing mess after two hours.

Feel free to use quick thinking and put some of the overflowed dough in a series of ziploc bags to freeze for use later.

The rest of the dough can go in the fridge until your ready to use it. Make sure the container isn't airtight.

Note to readers: Accidentally tripling a recipe and trying to force dough into containers that are too small can result in continued expansion in the fridge. Be ready for it.

When you're ready to bake your bread, just pull off a chunk of the dough.

The recipe calls for a baking stone. I do own a baking stone, but it's in storage in Seattle, along with all of my other real dishes, kitchen equipment, etc. My wise colleague Denise (who functions as my pseudo-maternal advisor in Shishmaref- "Um, Denise, if I bring this oil over, will you smell it and tell me if it's gone rancid? And then not judge me if it is?") suggested that I use a nice baking dish that would hold the heat evenly.

I do own a nice baking dish. I bought it in Paraguay. Steve made fun of me for carrying it all the way back into the U.S. and up to Alaska.

Note to readers: A small baking dish is nothing (in size or inconvenience) compared to the berimbau he brought back.

For those of you kitchen snobs, it is a Le Creuset baking dish. It is the only Le Creuset piece I own at this time. Steve has been warned that someday I intend to own a lot more.

I greased the dish with shortening.

Note to readers: this shot is completely staged. It turns out that I'm too uncoordinated to operate my camera or grease a pan with my left hand. I had to settle for holding-the-paper-towel-with-shortening-on-it with my left hand and operating my camera with the right.

Shape the dough into a ball and tuck all the edges underneath so that the top is smoothish. (This ball of dough will magically grow in the next few shots. Do not be alarmed. It is just a different batch of bread. VFN's Creative Cooking shows are not always shot in real time...)

Apparently, you can also shape the dough into sandwich loaves, but that technique hasn't been ~~botched~~ tried in VFN's test kitchens.

Let the dough sit for forty minutes. Preheat the oven at 450 sometime during this resting period.

Sprinkle the loaf, or boule, with flour...

and slice any design that makes your heart happy.

If you're really brave, you can bake the bread over a dish of water. Maybe you can avoid using a glass dish.

The final product has been greatly enjoyed in the Alaska Alston household.

Creative Cooking: Side Effects of Artisan Bread

2010-01-19T00:35:00.002-09:00

One of the latest experiments is with artisanal (also spelled artesianal, ahrteezhunuhl) (just kidding, it's not spelled that way) bread. It involves making two weeks worth of dough at a time, cutting off the amount you need as you need it, and baking it over (here's the important part) a pan of water to allow for a steaming effect.

I'd like to be able to show you the beautiful results of a successful foray into the world of artisanal bread making. (Un)fortunately, what actually happened is much more interesting.

Note to concerned readers: the following post, combined with my most recent post of the hazards of moving organized bookshelves , may lead readers to assume that I have completely lost control of my life in a way in a way that brings to mind a vortex of despair and idiocy. This is only partially true. I am actually quite happy. Thank you.

On Sunday I made the bread with decent results, and brilliantly refrained from removing the pan of scalding water. "I'll take it out when it cools down," I wisely told myself.

On Monday I made the bread again. When I preheated the oven, I realized that the pyrex pan of water was still in the oven. "No problem," I said in my wise voice, welcoming the experimental phase of this new addition to my culinary repertoire, "maybe it will just make the oven extra steamy and even enhance the bread."

When the oven was nice and hot (this part is key), I decided I should add more water to the pan with a glass measuring cup. And I learned the stunning effect that room temperature water has on a hot glass dish:

I miraculously managed to avoid having my eyes and/or face impaled with glass shards, which was nice. (It also prompted me to immediately offer a prayer of gratitude- not kidding/joking/being sarcastic.)

Here is me trying to have a good attitude about the whole thing:

I was even in a good enough humor to pose a la Ego-Centric-Teenager-Obsessed-With-Self-Portraits-For-Use-As-Social-Networking-Profile-Pictures (remember, I teach Junior High and High School):

Check out that pout! (It almost disguises the fact that I have smeared mascara and no left thumb.)

FYI, an oven covered in glass shards will still bake a round of artisanal bread. In fact, these pictures were all taken after baking said bread (explaining the ease with which I posed on the oven door).

FYI.2 a round of artisanal bread baked in an oven covered with glass shards is actually quite excellent.

I plan on accepting my awards for culinary excellence and kitchen safety later this month.

Social Studies Does Not Always Rock

2010-01-14T20:28:00.003-09:00

I'm getting a class set of laptops. That probably sounds like a weird thing to be complaining about, but consider the following things:

-A class set of laptops requires a laptop cart.

-The laptop cart was place in the middle of my classroom at the end of last week.

-There was no room for aforementioned laptop cart.

-Finding a place for the laptop cart required rearranging my entire classroom (probably long overdue, since the room's been basically the same since I came five years ago)

-I have several heavy shelves and bureaus in my classroom.

-I have no measurable upper body strength with which to move said heavy objects.

-The strapping boys in my student government class were thrilled (yeah right) to help me.

-The boys, whom I love dearly, have a tendency to be L-A-Z-Y.

-There is only one set of shelves in my classroom that is painstakingly organized.

-The boys dismissed the suggestions of their teacher (who is obviously dumb as dirt) to remove the books prior to relocating the shelves.

This was also the day before Parent-Teacher Conferences. Good thing I managed to find it in me to laugh and take a picture. :)

Pro: Develop Super Powers

2009-12-27T00:14:00.009-09:00

[Sorry about the post title. It's reeking lamenessosity, but it was better than the alternative: Pro-Do Things You Never Considered Yourself Capable Of Doing. I almost vomited while typing that title. I tried adding a clarifying subtitle: This Post Sounds Cheesy, But It's Actually Not. However, I ultimately decided I didn't wanted to be associated with the original title, let alone attach my name to it. So I settle for something vaguely synonymous, if slightly inaccurate. :) ]

Shishmaref has presented the editor of VFN with a lot of first:

-eating various parts of marine mammals
-being lost in a blizzard on foot
-having my picture in the newspaper with a balloon shoved up my shirt
-and, losing my only pair of inside shoes so completely that I was forced to teach in my socks for a week.

Earlier this month, I experienced another first: making a wedding cake.

VFN readers may not appreciate the magnitude of this achievement, so allow me to share the following facts about myself:

-my first grade teacher used to make me stay inside during recess in order to practice coloring in the lines
-I couldn't tie my shoes until third grade
-when I told my brother (who I know for a FACT happens to ADORE me) that I was asked to make a wedding cake, he responded with, "Wow, that person must have been desperate."

Let's just say that a life of craftiness and hand-eye-coordination has not been mine...

However, I've recently teamed up with one of my students who oozes craftiness, good taste, and overall perfection. Daphne and I try to bake during as many weekends as possible, and our efforts have been met with good results and a reputation as skilled creators of all things yummy.

Leaning on a recipe recommendation from my sister (who inherited far more than her fair share of domestic ability) and the expertise of our heroes Bakerella and Pioneer Woman, we produced our first fondant creations. They were by far the cutest things I have ever been a part of (this parenthetical comment exists solely to prevent this sentence from ending with a preposition).

We produced a host of them and shared them with people who provided appropriate validation by ooohing and aaahing. (Steve does his best, but he can only feign so much interest in the adorable.)

Our next challenge was to master full size cake layers. Which we did. We also learned how to make fondant turtles and experimented with peppermint flavored fondant (which I loved, but Daph thought tasted like toothpaste).

(Note to Readers: Please consider not judging me based on the messy table and cake platter. Thank you.)

For the sake of comparison, this is Daph's.

(Note to Readers: Please see the note for the above picture. Thank you.)

We were happy with our mastery of larger-scale fondant use, but we weren't completely sure what to do to elevate our decorations from cute to elegant.

Luckily for the bride, the universe fortuitously send us Erin (Hey Universe, thanks!). Erin teaches Family and Consumer Sciences at NACTEC and minored in food garnishing. She made a visit to Shishmaref and agreed to teach my tutoring group (of which Daph is a part) how to make fondant roses.

Erin introduced us to all sorts of amazing things, including this little tool that we found in the Home Ec room that cuts perfect circles.

(Note to readers: I apologize for the blurriness of the above photo. I'd like to be able to say that one of my students commandeered my camera and took the photo, but I don't think that's true, and I try to avoid lying whenever possible. Please consider that there's an excellent chance that the photo is blurry because my fingers were covered in marshmallow fondant and not because I possess zero photo skills. Thank you.)

This photo documents my pathetic attempts at learning the art of edible flower sculpting. While I am using the correct technique of beginning with a series of an odd number of overlapped fondant circles, I used way too much water as an adhesive and ended up with a gooey mess.

Not surprisingly, Daphne was far better than me at creating sugary flora. It was at this point that I officially became her assistant.

We started on the actual cake two days early by making the cake layers and the fondant. The next day we made several fondant roses of various sizes.

When I say "we," I actually mean Daphne. I did apprentice level tasks like roll out the fondant, cut out the circles, and get Daph beverages.

We used a shiny frosting recipe from my Better Homes and Gardens Cookbook.

(Tip: When you quadruple a frosting recipe you need to consider that, even with a Kitchen Aid, you will not be able to beat that much frosting. Even if you tackle it in two batches. Be prepared to beat the frosting to the appropriate stiffness in layers using your friend's hand mixer.)

(Tip: Quadrupling the Better Homes and Gardens Shiny Frosting Recipe results in way too much frosting.)

Kate helped us smooth the frosting. Kate also provided us with the pans in which to bake the cake. And all of the decorating tools. And her kitchen table. And her husband, who proved himself immensely useful.

The finished product with the topper the bride selected and ordered.

For most wedding cake creators, the hard part would be over. We still had to get the cake to the church. A challenge considering it was both windy and snowy on that typical Saturday afternoon. Kate's resourceful husband John saved the day by loading the cake into a sideways microwave box and taping a garbage bag over the open side. John was also the champion who carried the cake to the church. (Hey John, thanks!)

Image of the evil tape dispenser that prevented me from being able to assist John in the taping.

With the cake in place, Daph and I were free to enjoy the wedding.

Just because I know you're dying to see, I'll share my favorite moments of the wedding (please do not consider the following pictures as an accurate representation of my actual ability to take wedding photos. Consider that I was exhausted from the extremely stressful yet satisfying experience of baking the wedding cake. Also consider that a hard drive failure took with it my copy of Photoshop. For an example of an Alston with actual talent in wedding photography, see here) :

The ring bearer trying to wink at me...

The flower girl who got scared and froze halfway down the aisle (for maximum enjoyment, note the equally terrified flower girl seeking refuge on Grandma's right hip and the wedding guest sticking her pink camera into the aisle for a picture of the bride)...

The son of the bride and groom hiding under his mom's veil after fussing to be picked up in the middle of the ceremony but before being removed from the chapel (let's just say that the wedding was not the best day of his life nor the most fun he's ever experienced).

It was a great wedding. I was honored to be part of it.

Flat Stanley's Final Adventures

2009-05-12T21:03:00.001-08:00

Flat Stanley had to return to his home in North Ogden, Utah. He enjoyed a Priority trip via the USPS. (Hey Post Office! Thanks for getting him there safely!) In his honor, I thought we would do a showcase of Flat Stanley's final adventures in Shishmaref.

FS made lots of new friends. Some of his friends were even cute girls! Wahoo!!!

One of FS's new friends even shared a candy bar with him! (Don't worry, no germs were spread.)

FS made cinnamon rolls. He was a little disappointed that he didn't get to learn how to butcher seals or walrus, but the school was having a little water shortage problem. No water = no way to clean up marine mammal guts = gross.

The older girls gave FS a lesson on scissor safety and let him help make kuspuks (traditional Inupiaq shirts). FS was going to make his own, but he didn't like the flowery material.

There was more sewing action in the elementary wing.

FS couldn't thread his own needle, but his stitches were nice and even.

FS was super excited when we let him paint. I guess he doesn't get to do that very often at home.

His finished product turned out pretty good. Way to go FS! (You'll notice he labeled the paper underneath his lantern so he could tell it apart from all the other ones.

FS even got to help the eighth graders make cotton candy for a fundraiser. That could have been a drag, but he got to eat some of the extra cotton candy, so it was all good.

FS watched some kids coloring Tlingit headbands.

The kids were especially cute and friendly.

They invited him to join in, and he got to show off his mad skills with a red crayon.

The finished products turned out pretty good.

This is FS with Peggy. Peggy came to Shishmaref from Fairbanks to teach art for Inupiaq Days.

FS took advantage of Peggy's expertise by creating a Zen Tangle under her direction.

FS also learned what happens when you have high cholesterol. Your blood is supposed to flow through your arteries like the tube on the left, but if you have high cholesterol your little blood beads get blocked like the tube on the right. Very sad.

I heart Flat Stanley.

Thanks for staying with us.

Fun Fact: Ice Fishing Hooks

2009-05-11T23:49:00.001-08:00

Ice fishing is a popular past time and subsistence activity in Shishmaref during the winter.

Note to readers: I've never actually gone ice fishing in Shishmaref. I've only, so this post might lack the usual VFN expertise. My apologies.

Other note to readers: This picture was taken decades ago in Shishmaref. I got it from our librarian Bill Nayokpuk.

You will notice that the "fishing rod" is a small piece of wood. That piece of wood is usually referred to as an ice fishing hook, even though a hook is only a small part of the apparatus.

My kiddos got to make ice fishing hooks during Inupiaq Days, and Flat Stanley joined in on the fun. They started by using a file to make an indentation down the length of the wood. FS did a great job filing, even though the file was as tall as him.

I got to give the filing a shot too. My kids totally cracked up. Let's just say it's harder than it looks. Hence the look of extreme concentration.

The next step is to sand the wood so that it's nice and smooth. FS got to master the use of sandpaper and, uh, the clampy things.

Once the wood is smooth, you have to drill a hole to tie the fishing line through.

My high school boys made sure FS was instructed on proper use of the drill. Power tools can be fun!

FS wasn't able to take his finished hook fishing, but he can rest assured that his efforts helped secure a yummy dinner for somebody.

Note to readers: one more Flat Stanley post coming up (in time for the due date). Stay tuned!

Fun Fact: The Inupiaq Alphabet

2009-05-01T15:34:00.002-08:00

In the early seventies, linguists from the University of Alaska Fairbanks partnered with local experts to create a standardized written version of the Inupiaq language. Shishmaref is extremely lucky to have one of the local experts in our village. John Sinnok was instrumental in creating the written version of Inupiaq and preserving our local dialect. He taught a basic Inupiaq Writing class during Inupiaq Days, and Flat Stanley and I attended.

The Inupiaq Alphabet has 23 letters. Some you probably recognize. Some you probably don't. (Wow, that was profound. Get ready for the Pulitzer nomination...)

This is the "belted l." You begin pronouncing it like you would a regular English "l," but then you make a sound kind of like you're clearing your throat.

(Note to readers: Stay with me. The descriptions will get better from here on out. I promise.)

This is the dotted g. It's pronounced kind of like the belted l. You begin pronouncing it like an English g and end with a sound like you're clearing your throat.

(Note to readers: Just kidding about the improved descriptions thing...)

This is the "n" with a tail. It is pronounced like the "ng" in "song."

Fun facts about Inupiaq consonants:

-you will never have three consonants together in an Inupiaq word

-the letter "v" makes a "b" sound if it precedes the letters "l" or "z"

-zr together sounds like "sh"

-the Shishmaref dialect of Inupiaq has five consonants that are not used in other Inupiaq dialects

-four of the consonants in the other dialects are not used in the Shishmaref dialect (they are represented in the top picture with a squiggly line underneath them)

Inupiaq only has three vowels: a, i, and u, but they can be combined in nine different ways, each with its own pronunciation.

a = uh
aa= aahhh (like a doctor is checking your throat)
ai= long a (like ape, ate, or angelic)
au = oh (like oat, only, or ode)

i= short i (like is, if, or iridescent)
ia= ee-uh
ii= eeeeeeeeeeeee (like something started you)
iu= eee-oo

u= oo (said in a short syllable, like you're shouting "Boo!" at someone (you wouldn't say, "Booooooooooooooo!"))
ua = oo-uh
ui= oo-ee
uu= ooooooooo (like booing a bad ref at a basketball game, "Boooooooooooooooooooooooo!")

After learning the basic phonics of Inupiaq, John gave us a series of quizzes. He would say words or letter combinations, and we had to write them down, spelling them according to Inupiaq phonics. Flat Stanley and I did AWESOME on the quizzes until John got to the six- and seven-letter words. Then we started tanking it.

I guess we need a little more practice. Maybe we should check out the following sites:

Alaskool's Inupiaq Text Dictionary

BSSD Inupiaq Dictionary With Pictures and Sound Recordings

How to Survive: Keep Warm

2009-04-16T23:12:00.001-08:00

Subtitle: Flat Stanley Arrives in Shishmaref

VFN would like to extend a warm welcome to our newest cast member: Flat Stanley. Flat Stanley hails from North Odgen, Utah. He was sent first class to Shishmaref by my cousin Ben. (Hey Ben! Thanks for sending us Flat Stanley! We're taking good care of him, I promise!)

One look at Flat Stanley told me that he was not going to survive in Shishmaref unless he got some warmer clothes.

This is a parka. It's the traditional Inupiaq winter coat. The student in this picture is making a silly face because he's wearing a woman's parka. A man's parka wouldn't typically be purple and pink. Or have flowers on it.

Note to readers: In Shishmaref, parka is pronounced "park-ee."

This is a pretty common man's parka. It's called a hunting parka. They are all white, thus camouflaging the hunters amid the winterscape.

This isn't really the best picture of a parka, but I thought it was too adorable not to include. Ahhhhhhhh!!! Cuteness attack!!!

I took FS over to visit my friend Kate. She hooked us some supplies to make a parka. FS wasn't sure what size he was, so I had to trace him. He wiggled a little bit, but we managed to get a pretty decent outline.

We made the parka out of blue material so there would be no doubt about FS's masculinity.

Much better. The fur ruff is Tuscany lamb. FS now has a chance to make it in Shishmaref without freezing.

FS should consider himself pretty lucky. Neither Steve or I have a parka. We brought our Rexburg coats up to Shishmaref. (Hey BYU-Idaho! Thanks for preparing us a little bit for the cold!) They lasted for about 3.5 years before we upgraded. We both went with The North Face jackets. Steve got a coat in rust, and I got one in black.

Note to Readers: In the above picture, Steve is demonstrating a very UNwise way to dress around Shishmaref. Shorts are a no-no, unless you don't mind sacrificing your knees to frostbite. However, he is wearing the boots that are very typical for life in Shishmaref. We both have a pair. Thank you.

The latest addition to my cold weather ensemble is my gloves. They are made out of seal skin and lined with beaver fur. I received them as a gift in the staff Christmas gift exchange. Steve took this picture of me right after I opened them. I might have been a little bit excited about them. They are super warm and super comfy. I recommend them to anybody that in need of warm fingers.

Easter Thoughts and the Saga of Grandma Plant- Part II

2009-04-12T22:19:00.003-08:00

VFN interrupts our usual coverage of life in Alaska to bring you our annual Easter photo:

This is the Shishmaref graveyard.

I had a lot of fun editing this picture. So much fun, in fact, that I couldn't decide which one I wanted to share. So, I decided to share them all...

I liked the colors in this one. Steve thought it looked like it was taken in the seventies. I told him that was kind of the point.

This one was fun too. It looks really old, like maybe I found it in an old book about Shishmaref.

This one was almost my favorite. I loved the purple tones and the warm colors. Mmmmmmmm...

All of these pictures could be considered sad pictures, but I like thinking of the hope of a next life.

And I can't think about hope without thinking of Grandma Plant.

The original story of Grandma Plant was published last Easter, but here's a quick recap:

-After my beloved Grandma Busch passed away, my dad adopted her houseplants.
-Dad gave me a cutting of one plant to try to grow in Alaska.
-A series of traumatic events threatened the livelihood of Grandma Plant.
-The little plant pulled through.

I thought I would post an update for this Easter.

Grandma Plant is doing great. The old plastic cup has been upgraded to a ceramic pot. The four leaves have turned into twenty. Grandma Plant has not resisted my attempts to guide its growth in an aesthetically pleasing shape. (Hey little wooden stick! Thanks for helping me shape Grandma Plant!)

Once again, I am amazed at the resilience of this little plant and ever grateful for the memories it preserves. Life triumphs over death. The Grandma Plant thrives, and Grandma will live again.

Field Trip: Serpentine Hot Springs

2009-04-06T00:20:00.003-08:00

This is perhaps the coolest field trip that VFN will ever provide its readers.

It begins by being the farthest VFN field trip (my adventures in Morocco are a completely different category). The editorial board at VFN generally prefers to remain indoors in Shishmaref for the following reasons: it's cold outside, polar bears are scary, and it's cold outside.

This is a satellite image of Serpentine Hot Springs. (Hey Google! Thanks for creating Google Earth! I heart it!) You will notice that the area surrounding the hot springs is green. That is NOT what it looked like when we were there.

This picture, also from Google Earth, shows the basic path we took from Shishmaref to Serpentine. As you can imagine, we did not actually travel in a perfectly straight line.

This is a picture of the land we traveled over to get to the hot springs. If you look closely, you can see little yellow tri-pods. Those are trail markers.

Here's a close up of one of the trail markers. It is right outside of the hot springs. You can see that it marks Shishmaref as being 52 miles away. The trip took us about three hours on snow machine. Yes, that's right three hours. In descending order, here is a ranking of my coldest body parts during the trip:

-hips
-toes
-fingers

The rest of me stayed relatively warm, but my hips were COLD. I thought that was kind of odd, given that they're more generously padded than, say, my elbows or nose. I was wearing underclothing, Cabela's thermal long johns, warm-up pants, and snow pants, and that still wasn't enough. It got so bad that I was pounding my hips with my fists and not feeling anything. The only thing that kept me from freaking out was the fact that I've never heard of anyone having their hips amputated. (On the way home I added a pair of jeans and flannel pants to the layers. I was still cold.)

(Note to readers: Apparently, we passed a herd of about forty moose on our way to the hot springs. That's the most anybody's ever seen out there. Unfortunately, I didn't see anything because my goggles had iced over. I felt pretty stupid when everybody kept asking me if I'd seen the moose.)

Serpentine Hot Springs is in a little valley. As you get close, you can see the steam rising from the warm water.

Ta-dah! Serpentine Hot Springs in all its glory. The small building on the left is the bath house. It's built directly over the springs. The large building on the right is the cabin. It has a largish room on each side that each house sixish twin beds, a camp stove, a heating stove, and assorted dishes that have been left for people to use.

You can't see it, but just to the right of the picture is a wooden outhouse. It is approximately 4,392 miles from the cabin. It is also the first outhouse I've used where everything inside was frozen. It was so cold that one of the moms in the group set up a bucket behind a tarp in the cabin. We used the bucket for our, uh, human waste removal.

This is a close up of the bath house. In case you're wondering, we walked from the cabin to the bath house wearing our bathing suits. I still get the chills thinking about it.

Here is the front door of the bath house. You can see that the steam has created a coating of ice everywhere. Just wait, it gets worse.

Walking through the qanitaq, we were immediately assaulted by the dense steam-filled air.

This is the stairway leading into the tub. You will notice that the area around the stairs is completely covered in ice. And yes, I walked over that ice in my bare feet to get into the tub. I didn't really notice how cold it was because I was too busy worrying about slipping and cracking my skull or coccyx.

One of the most bizzarro things about the pool was how warm it was. Even with the entire bath house covered in ice, the water stayed nice toasty.

It was extremely relaxing to be able to soak and rest in the warm water. Sometimes the steam would condense and freeze on our hair. I don't have any pictures of it, but it looked kind of like the window in the above picture.

There was a stream of hot water running into/nearby/underneath the bath house (I'm really not sure how everything worked, and my geothermal understanding is pretty weak. Sorry). I thought this picture illustrated the interesting juxtaposition of such warmth in the midst of the freezing cold.

This little bridge went over the stream. It was very important to use it instead of trying to leap over the stream. I was smart enough to not even attempt leaping, but others in the group were not so fortunate. :)

The primary activity at Serpentine Hot Springs is lounging. There's even a journal of Serpentine adventures.

When you're all relaxed out, you can go explore the rocks in the area.

Apparently, this rock formation looks like an eskimo drummer. Apparently, I am too stupid to take a picture of it from right direction so that you could see the resemblance.

The kiddos had fun sliding and snowboarding.

Animal tracks = major excitement. I think these are fox tracks, but I have absolutely no expertise or experience to back that claim up. I saw a few foxes on our snow machine ride back home, but I didn't see any foxes while we were at the hot springs.

Not seeing foxes when I'm not on a motor vehicle = major comfort.

We also spent a lot of time eating.

Mary brought her own sourdough starter to use for pancakes.

The yumminess of the pancakes was rivaled only by...

the adorable Eskimo boy eating the pancakes. (Looking at this picture right now makes me want to kiss the little Eskimo boy. I'm serious.)

He also showed me the Eskimo way to eat pancakes. Apparently, you're supposed to roll up the pancakes and dip them in syrup. I was not cool enough to eat my pancakes like an Eskimo. (Maybe coolness wasn't actually a factor. I was more afraid of sticky fingers.)

My Moroccan Fulbright partner also got to enjoy the sourdough pancakes.

(VFN, meet Brahim. Brahim, meet VFN.)

(Hey Mary! You rock at making pancakes! You also look really cute in the background of this picture!)

Brahim also tried caribou (Hey Glenn! Thanks for shooting the caribou! It was yummy!) and seal oil. He liked the seal oil so much that he started dipping bread in it.

It's almost impossible to leave Serpentine Hot Springs without adding your name to collection of signatures on the walls and ceilings. There were several groups of names of kids on their senior trip.

Apparently, it is also a place for political statements.

(Question to readers: Who are the Teds? And why do we want to tight them?)

Brahim left his mark in several places around the cabin in English and Arabic.

And I left my own signature on the ceiling. I like to think that a little piece of me will remain at the hot springs forever.

Creative Cooking: Just Another Sunday Dinner

2009-03-22T21:39:00.001-08:00

It's been a while since I've shared our culinary adventures with the VFN readership. I don't really have anything exotic or exciting to share, but this is a pretty typical Sunday dinner for us.

It started with some cauliflower. I know, I know, cauliflower is one of those unglamorous vegetables with a fairly high yuck-factor, but I've been in love with roasted vegetable recipes ever since I found an earth-shattering broccoli recipe. (I'll take pictures and share it next time I make it. It will make your heart flutter.) Roasted broccoli with garlic was so good that when I came across a recipe for roasted cauliflower, and the store had fresh cauliflower THE EXACT SAME WEEK, I knew I was destined to make it.

I poured some olive oil over the cauliflower.

Note to readers: Steve and I have gone through over two liters of olive oil this school year. Is this unhealthy?

I added whole garlic cloves. (They're kind of hard to see, but they're there, I promise.)

As far as Steve is concerned, this is the secret ingredient: bacon. (Or, more accurately, bacon bits. You know, the real kind. The hefty chunks of bacon in a ziploc bag you buy at warehouse stores.)

Sprinkle it all with kosher salt, throw it in the oven, and out comes...

this. And, yup, it tastes as good as it looks (unless you think it looks nasty, in which case it tastes much better than it looks). Steve and I polished off an entire bunch of cauliflower. By ourselves.

But, the cauliflower was only a supporting character to the porkchops. I have a really good recipe for pork chops with a creamed herb sauce, but I wanted to try something sans sauce. One of my favorite food blogs posted a simple pork chop recipe, I got right on it (this was kind of a week of food blog providence).

I started the pork chops with rosemary...

brown sugar...

cumin and pepper.

Then mixed it all up on a paper plate because I was too lazy to wash a real dish.

I coated the pork chop with the mixture and threw it in a hot frying pan with some olive oil (see, I use it in everything).

A few minutes on each side, and it was done. I was kind of embarrassed by the blackened parts, but they tasted really good, so now I display this picture with pride.

Tossed a quick salad with dried cranberries, pistachios, and blue cheese. Mmmmm, mmmmmm, mmmmm.

I love Sundays...

Fun Fact: Christmas Races

2009-03-17T22:06:00.002-08:00

I know it's been about three months since Christmas. But, all of the recent snow makes it seem like we're still in the middle of winter, so I only feel moderately embarrassed about writing a post about a Shishmaref Christmas tradition...

The week in between Christmas and New Year's is full of Christmas games. One of the games is foot races. This is me and one of my students before the races.

Everybody races against people in their age group. My age group consisted of women ages 25-29. The race marshall is writing down our names on the official clipboard.

Getting ready to start. You will notice I had my game face on. I take these things very seriously.

Our race was about 100 meters long. It consisted of running down "main street" and around a man that was our place marker. You will notice that we all began the race in a pretty close pack.

During the home stretch I pulled away from the pack.

Toward the end of the race, I was clearly in the lead. I was also clearly wearing snow pants that were too short for me.

(Note to readers: I don't typically wear pink Nikes with my winter apparel. Big boots are just hard to run in. Thank you.)

The award ceremony for my race was later that night. There was a big board with the rankings for all of the day's races. For your viewing convenience I circled my race results with my red spray paint tool in Photoshop.

They call of the racers up individually, and their honeys pin a ribbon on them. Steve pinned my ribbon on. There's no picture of that because he was also acting as my personal photographer and couldn't fill both responsibilities simultaneously.

(Note to readers: the top I'm wearing is a traditional eskimo shirt called a kuspuk. Many people in Shishmaref wear them on special occasions. Racing awards are definitely considered a special occasion.)

The IRA (tribal council) gave each racer a check. First place got $30, second place $25, and third place $20. I am examining my sa-weet $30 check. Hey Shishmaref IRA! Thanks for the moolah! I used mine to go on a Joann.com shopping spree!

This is where things get really fun. After the checks are presented, a member of the IRA council gives each racer a bag pull of presents and leads the crowd in a hip-hip-hooray for all of the racers. That promotes all kind of warm fuzzies. Then, community members come up and put presents in your bag!!!!

I was totally jazzed to check out the presents in my bag, but I had the decency to wait until after the award ceremony. This is me with my bag of presents from the IRA.

The bag was tied securely with a knot. Hey IRA, thanks keeping my presents safely sealed in the bag!

These are pretty typical items in the IRA gift bag. Both are very nice to have. I am often too cheap to buy paper towels on my own.

(Note to readers: I always buy toilet paper. No matter what the cost.)

This year's IRA bag also sported instant oatmeal. Sweet!

IRA gift bags always contain at least one item of clothing. I'm not sure where the clothing comes from, but this year I totally scored vintage Guess jeans.

These are the original authentic stovepipe-leg light-colored straight from the eighties Guess jeans. I'm thinking of selling them on E-bay for $300.

(Note to readers: I would love to rock these jeans with a side ponytail and a hot pink sweater with beads on it, but they're size negative fourteen and a half. I won't be wearing them any time soon, barring any unfortunate incidents with accidental liposuction or parasites.)

There was also the obligatory bag of ribbon candy and nuts. I chipped a tooth trying to crack open racing nuts one year. (Hey Dad! I know using my teeth for things is bad! I'm sorry!)

Once the IRA bag was emptied I moved on to the other goodies people had put in my bag. One of my students made these ornaments out of seal skin.

Some of my presents had my name on them. That made me happy. It was like they were meant for me and not just randomly placed in my bag (not that I mind random presents...).

This is me opening a pair of fuzzy pink socks. You can tell by how wide my mouth is open that I was pretty excited about them.

The pink socks were a gift from one of my students. She said she bought them for me, "So you don't have to wear those stained ones any more." That's a direct quote. Nice to know people are watching out for me.

This is the gift Steve put in my bag. It was a book. He had given me on Christmas Day. That I had already unwrapped. It turns out, Steve forgot to save one of my presents to use as a racing gift. That's a huge relationship no-no in Shishmaref. Luckily, our marriage is strong enough to handle such incidents.

To spare all of my gentle readers from endless pictures of all of my gifts (and believe me, I have one of every single thing I was given), I decided to group the gifts into general categories for group shots. This is the "Edible Category."

"Personal Hygiene Category."

"Useful Kitchen Supplies Category."

I'd love to be able to post pictures of Steve's racing adventure, but he DIDN'T RACE. Not even the IRA check and bag of presents was enough to entice him.

He might have had a good reason. This is a picture of Steve after his race during Christmas Week 2005. A person should only have to go through that once in their life.

Field Trip: A Blizzard

2009-03-09T22:40:00.001-08:00

This was the view out of my side kitchen window yesterday morning, afternoon, and evening.

I could just barely make out the school snow machine and other assorted items that usually occupy the space near our house...

This was the view from my front kitchen window.

I actually braved the storm enough to stick my camera out the front door.

I realized that the above picture was kind of useless to my gentle readers that don't know what the view from my front door usually looks like. So, this is the normal view (except that sometimes the water is more frozen).

And this is what the view looks like during a storm that's not a blizzard.

But yesterday was a blizzard. I did not feel like walking out into this, so I spent the day doing the following things:

-curling up on my couch
-wearing my jammy pants and fuzzy socks
-spending quality time on my laptop

(It has recently come to my attention that my behavior during a blizzard is mostly the same as my behavior NOT during a blizzard...)

I couldn't avoid the snow any longer this morning.

I had to go to work.

So, I put on my biggest boots and crawled through the massive drifts...

(Note to readers: My husband, who usually exercises outstanding judgment, didn't bring his boots home over the weekend, so he had to make his way through this snow in loafers. I mustered enough sympathy to only laugh semi-loudly as he soaked said loafers, along with his socks, slacks, and the bottom portion of his coat.)

to my classroom.

The snow made this cool pattern. I'm sure you could tell something about the wind speeds by looking at the pattern of the snow plastered to the side of my portable. I just don't know what that is.

The rest of the village was similarly covered.

Drifts were piled up against houses...

the health clinic...

storage units...

and over vehicles. Luckily, this truck hasn't gone anywhere for a while anyway.

This is our buddy George.

George is digging up his snow machine. Good luck George!

I'd like to say that this will be our last storm for a while, but I just can't muster the optimism.

Why I am Glad to Be Back in Alaska- Part 2

2009-03-07T13:34:00.002-09:00

I wish I could say that I just got back from Morocco. That would be an acceptable excuse for my four month absence from the blogosphere (has it really been four months? Yikes!!!). Unfortunately, I've been back in Alaska since the middle of December... I have no excuse other than the fact that I was drowning in a massive amount of holiday preparations, grading, mopping, graduate classes, and quality time with Steve-O.

I thought I would celebrate my return to VFN with a little list of why I am glad to be back in Alaska:

Internet- That was hands down the hardest part of being in Morocco. You would have thought it would have been the squatting toilets, lack of toilet paper, or prevalence of sheep droppings, but it wasn't. I am an Internet addict. It killed me not to be able to check my e-mail every day. It was agony waiting to blog about my latest adventures, and if I had known how to swear in Moroccan Arabic, I would have when discovering yet ANOTHER Internet cafe that didn't have wi-fi for my laptop.

Cheese- This one is going to shock the heck out of my mother-in-law because I'm really not a big cheese eater. Even still, Steve and I usually keep at least bleu, feta, fresh parmesan, mozzarella, and cheddar in the fridge. There was virtually no cheese in Morocco except for the creamy little triangles at breakfast time. And, those are more like cream cheese, so they're another matter entirely. There's just something about the ooey gooey cheesey goodness that's supremely satisfying, and my American stomach felt hungry without it.

Talking to Other Teachers- I'm pretty isolated in my portable in Shishmaref (to be honest, I prefer it that way). And, granted, my staff room interactions really aren't all that profound. They generally consisty of complaining about the copy machine, physically kicking the fifth grade teacher every time she walks by, or making fun of the maintenance men (not behind their backs, to their faces, they love me). Despite the banality of these interactions, they are one hundred times more fulfilling than smiling akwardly and nodding a lot All of the Moroccan staff members were extremely friendly and accomadating. However, only four of them spoke English. I spent most of my staff room time trying to look engrossed in my English textbook while keeping a pleasant look on my face. Longest ten minute tea breaks EVER...

Morocco was amazing. Home is amazing. I have lots of stories to share, so stay tuned.

VFN is in Paris

2008-10-29T23:22:00.004-08:00

Okay, so VFN will only be in Paris for six hours, but it still counts. Well, maybe not since I'll be in the airport the whole time... (Note to readers: I have been to Paris before. Just not for six years.)

Anyway, I'm on my way to Morocco for my Fulbright Teaching Exchange! I'm excited, nervous, exhausted, and all sorts of emotions all jumbled into one.

Now is a good time to announce my Morocco blog:

http://angieinmorocco.blogspot.com

I created a separate blog for my Morocco adventures so that my students could follow along without being overwhelmed by the intelligence and profoundness that is VFN.

I won't be updating VFN while I'm in North Africa. Steve was offered a position as interim editor of VFN, but he declined. I will return after December 14th, so DON'T ABANDON ME. Please.

P.S. Lest you worry that my Moroccan experience will keep me from exercising my right to voice my opinion in the future of America, I offer the following proof that I voted:

Hey State of Alaska! Thanks for sending my absentee ballot in time! (You'll notice I took the picture before I filled in the bubbles. That was on purpose. I didn't want to offend any friends and/or family members who may have different political philosophies than me. VFN needs all the readers it can get. It doesn't have the luxury of pontificating opinions with reckless abandon.)

Field Trip: New Playground

2008-10-24T19:12:00.000-08:00

Shishmaref School got a new playground this year. This has been a colossal event to the kiddos in town. Steve and I took a jaunt down to the playground (before the snow fell), and I thought I'd bring VFN's faithful readers along for the ride...

Here is the playground in all its splendor. To truly appreciate it, you have to know that our old playground was tiny and WITHOUT SWINGS (doesn't that seem criminal?).

One of the coolest features of the new playground is the vortex. It appears to be a type of merry-go-round. The kids use it to pile up on top of each other and then fight about whose turn it is to get off.

I took a few twirls on the vortex. It was fun. It had all of the thrill of a merry-go-round without the omnipresent risk of flying off to your doom. I appreciated that.

Steve enjoyed spinning kids as fast as possible. He gets a real kick out of making people almost throw up.

Another cool feature of the playground is the steering wheel. You may not be impressed, but wait until you see the next picture.

A gear shifter!!!! That's brilliant. If I had one of these growing up, my life would have been a lot easier (I learned how to drive a stick in front of an audience of middle-aged men. I was working at the paper mill in Lewiston the summer after my freshman year of college. Part of my job included driving an ancient truck. It was scary. I didn't like it).

The second best feature of the playground is the swings. I don't think any playground should be without swings. I have always loved swings, even though I received the only pink slip of my entire elementary career while on a swing (hey playground monitor at Grantham Elementary, I'm sorry! I didn't know that having four people at a time on one swing was against the rules! I was only a kindergartener).

The Shishmaref kids were extraordinarily impressed with how high I could go on the swing. I tried to explain the physics of why I could go higher, but I failed miserably. (VFN extends moderately sincere apologies to anybody that is offended by the above picture. It seemed necessary to illustrate exactly how high I was able to go on the swing. Thank you for understanding.)

Without a doubt, the best feature of the playground is the adorable kids that hang around.

Seriously, be still my heart...

This girl is cute AND sweet!

I'll never get tired of watching these kiddos have fun.

They remind me of everything I love about Shishmaref.

Social Studies Rocks: Mock Election

2008-10-22T19:22:00.000-08:00

This is a message from your friendly neighborhood social studies teacher reminding you to vote in the upcoming election or any election that might be happening in your respective country/state/province/city/village. If the students of Shishmaref can vote, you can too.

The Shishmaref Mock Election was school-wide, but it was kind of sponsored by my older kids. We started by making posters to hang in the elementary school hallway.

The posters featured facts about each candidate and posters cut up from five months worth of news magazines. (Hey Shishmaref Library and fellow teachers! Thanks for letting me steal all of your magazines!) Since we get enough negative advertising in the actual media, I insisted that the posters all be positive, much to the disappointment of my students.

You may be noticing quite a few McCain posters. That's only because I made my kids draw names out of a basket. They were forced to make a poster for the candidate they drew. (It's not a secret: I'm mean.)

Otherwise, all of the posters would be like this (my kids are nutty for Obama). Notice the obligatory Biden mention. Ha! It's a nice representation of the percentage of real news coverage he gets. (Note to readers: do not interpret that as a Biden bash. It's simply commentary of his non-domination of campaign coverage.)

My big kids were the poll workers. When the other kids came in, they had to sign their names on the "voter rolls." If they hadn't filled out a registration form earlier in the week, they had to do that before they voted. (The second question on the mock registration form was: Are you at least five years old? Ha!)

The city let us borrow their voting booths and ballot boxes, which made things feel really official. The IRA let us borrow one of their buildings, so all of the kids got to leave school to come vote.

The tiniest kids had to stand on chairs to reach the voting booth. My big kids helped them fill out their ballots (anybody caught coercing an elementary student to vote for a certain candidate was threatened with the wrath of Angie).

The kiddos put their completed ballots in the ballot box.

My older kids voted too, but, let's face it,

they are straight up not as cute a the little guys, especially when the little guys have to stand on their tippy-toes to reach the box.

(Note to my students: I still heart you!)

We made stickers to give to all of the students that voted.

Some of my big kids decided it would be cool to put their stickers on their foreheads...

starting an epidemic of little kids who also put their stickers on their foreheads.

I have to admit, it was kinda cute.

Don't you just want to take this girl home? I do. Unfortunately, her mom and dad like her a lot too...

This little girl took things to the next level.

I let my big kids tally the votes. They learned what it was like to be an election judge (what if somebody circled Barack Obama and Sarah Palin?) and had to determine when to disqualify ballots. It's too bad we didn't have punch out ballots. Then I could have introduced them to the intricacies of chad. As you can see, we used the highly scientific method of tally marks.

We found this ballot when we were counting ballots. I laughed. This pretty much sums up the sentiment of most of my students.

When all the votes were counted the results were as follows:

House of Representatives: Don Young (Republican)

United States Senate: Ted Stevens (Republican)

President of the United States: John McCain (Republican)

My big kids were furious. They blamed the results on the elementary students and suggested that we do the vote without them next time. I tried to explain why it wouldn't be fair to disenfranchise over half of our school, but I don't think they bought into it. Maybe that's a lesson for next year...

Fun Fact: How to Qapsraq Seals

2008-10-19T13:41:00.004-08:00

Qapsraq (pronounced kup-shuck, sr makes the 'sh' sound in Inupiaq) means to remove blubber from seal skins. It was the second part of my seal butchering adventure. Much to the delight of my extremities, it took place inside.

First you have to gather all the supplies. You will recognize the blade in the above picture as an ulu. (This is one of the tasks for which ulus were intended. They were not intended as pizza cutters, as frequently used in the VFN household.) The other items are qapsraq boards. They are curved cutting boards made from driftwood. These qapsraq boards are very old and were used by the grandmothers of the ladies were were working on the skins. Very few people make new qapsraq boards, and they're prized possessions.

This is a small stool. You sit on it while you qapsraq.

You also need rubber boots because the blubber makes an oily mess. Some boots are pink and girly...

And some look like they've been ordered from Cabela's. I didn't have boots, so I was in my bare feet.

You start by using your ulu to cut in between the blubber and the skin at a corner.

Then you stretch the skin over the qapsraq board. You use the ulu to slice the blubber away from the skin. Sometimes you have to scrape a couple of times in order to get all of the blubber off of the skin (it's actually not really scraping, it's more of a quick slicing motion).

You continue pulling the skin over the board as you cut off the blubber. This is a really good workout.

When the blubber is removed, the skin is a lot smaller (duh).

We took the de-blubbered skins outside to soak for a while.

Then we dumped the water and brought clean water inside for another round of washing.

People use lots of different solutions to clean their seal skins. The ladies I was with prefer Dawn or Joy dish soap.

I actually got to help wash the skins. It was fun.

You have to pay extra attention to the edges of the seal skin, because you want to make sure you remove all traces of oil and blubber. If you don't, the skin will turn yellow when it's tanned. Yellow seal fur is ugly, although you can sometimes still use it to make things to sell to ignorant tourists. I personally know better than to buy a handicraft made with yellow seal fur.

(By the way, you can tell that those are my arms washing the furs because they are so white. Not even six weeks in Southeast Asia could remedy that.)

After scrubbing you squeeze out excess water.

Then you spread the skins out to dry. You try to make sure the fur doesn't curl under at the edges because that can cause discoloration. Astute readers will notice that the above picture is of me in my barefooted glory. Don't you recognize my pootoogooks? (Pootoogooks means toes in Inupiaq).

Unfortunately, some of our skins needed to be rewashed. The above picture is one of our skins the day after we washed it. Can you see it? Around the arm hole? The discoloration? It looks kind of matted? And greasy? That would make for some ugly slippers or mittens, so it was rewashed.

My fabulous Eskimo lady friends agreed to let me try my hand at qupsruq-ing (please forgive me, I don't know how to conjugate for present participles in Inupiaq yet).

You can tell a couple of important things from the picture: 1. They lent me rubber boots. 2. They had to really help me to get started.

I actually managed to qupsruq by myself for a while. It's a lot harder than it looks. You have to really use your muscles. All of them. Ask me if I have a sore back. Or a sore neck. Or hamstrings. Or shoulders. Or gluteal muscles. Go on, ask me.

I started to feel like this because I was bad at the following things:

-holding the ulu appropriately
-completely removing the blubber from the skin
-not hacking up the skin

(Note to my mother-in-law: please don't be offended that I wore the shirt that you gave me for Christmas while I was qupsruq-ing. It isn't a statement about my feelings toward you or our relationship. Thank you.)

(Note to the surprised student who dropped by, took this picture, and said I looked scary: Ha ha, I learned to qupsruq before you!)

I perservered, and after an hour and forty-five minutes (and some help with the hard parts), I completed my first skin. That's an extremely long time for one skin. Some of my friends had finished three seals in the time I did my one.

Note to readers: You may notice two arm holes in the skin. Those are supposed to be there. You will also notice a large hole in the middle. That's not supposed to be there. That's the result of an idiotic white lady who had an unfortunate incident while she was trying to cut off excess blubber. Sigh...

Luckily, the seal was only a common seal. Common seal fur is less valuable than spotted seal fur. I still felt stupid, incompetent, and lame for my oops, but at least it won't be financially devastating to somebody.

VFN would like to, again, give a shout out to her super tough incredible Eskimo friends for showing her what it means to be a true Alaskan woman. I hope one day I will measure up...

Fun Fact: How to Butcher Spotted Seals

2008-10-18T23:26:00.003-08:00

Today was one of the best days I've ever had in Shishmaref (and there have been some pretty good ones). Today I learned how to butcher a spotted seal. I didn't actually do any of the butchering, but I watched very carefully.

***WARNING: The following post contains seal guts. Lots of them.***

First, you make a cut through the skin all around the tail. The blade Aaka is using is called an ulu. You can tell by the condition of the blade that this wasn't the first butcher of the day...

These seals are spotted seals. They are not used by the Inupiaq people as food, even though some places in Alaska eat the spotted seals. The people of Shishmaref only ate the spotted seals during starving times. Otherwise, the meat is used to feed dog teams. The skins, however, are beautiful and used in making mittens, hats, ornaments, and just about anything else.

You make a similar cut around the head. I am aware how disturbing this picture is. Aaka noticed me staring sympathetically at the seal, and she said, "Real cute, huh?" Then she commented that it's easy to see how people are against eating meat when you see the butchering process up close. So much of our food is generally processed, so we never see its original state.

We then had an interesting discussion about the use of animals to sustain human life. Aaka said that the Eskimo way is to kill animals with as little suffering as possible. Good hunters will keep all of their tools in good condition to be able to end an animal's life quickly without much pain. Good hunters and their wives will even keep their knives sharp to be able to butcher the meat quickly and easily.

There's an Eskimo legend about a man who turned into a caribou. He lived with a herd, and they explained to him the difference between good and bad hunters. Bad hunters killed for pleasure and wasted meat. Good hunters killed for food and took care to waste no meat. The caribou always fled fromt the bad hunters, but they allowed to good hunters to catch a few of their herd. The caribou would comment among themselves about the state of the hunters' tools and their treatment of their prey.

The lesson of the story is that the best way to have success as a hunter is to treat the animals with respect, even after they've been slain.

That story made me feel better about taking the above picture. Hopefully it makes you feel better about looking at it.

Of course, this story was told as Aaka continued to butcher her seal. She sliced the seal down the middle of the tummy.

This little guy kept interrupting in order to get his picture taken.

He insisted on equal screen time as the seal.

But after modeling his ultra cool camo face mask he got cold and went inside.

We were taking samples for the Fish and Game Department, so we measured the layer of blubber. Turns out, spotted seals have slightly less blubber than Alaskan teachers who have spent a lot of time on their couches during the last three and a half years...

Then we felt for the joint in the flipper. You're supposed to cut right on the joint.

Found it!!

Once the flipper is cut off, it's discarded. This flipper happened to land on a previously butchered seal, close to the intestines. I'm kind of amazed that I can take pictures of this without vomiting.

Then you use your ulu to cut between the blubber and the dark meat.

If you're doing it right, you will be able to easily slide the ulu underneath the blubber along the contour of the body.

We had to take a sample of the liver and the kidney. I can't remember which this was.

This one I know. This is the stomach. We also needed it for our samples.

Anybody know what this vital organ is? Yeah, neither do I. I just know it was in the way when we were trying to get to the stomach.

Inupiaq girls used to learn how to butcher seals when they were about ten. Nowadays school takes up a lot of the time that would otherwise be used learning how to butcher. Most women now learn after they're finished with high school.

Sometimes it's easier to hold the seal with a metal hook while you cut. I got to hold the hook for one seal. I felt very helpful.

This little guy is almost done. You can see that his skin has been almost completely pulled away from his body.

If your skin ends up being really messy, you need to carry over some snow...

And use it to clean up.

Then the skin gets folded over and put in a pile.

VFN would like to thank the amazing Aaka...

and her lovely sister Kate for modeling the correct procedure for spotted seal butchering. Stay tuned for our next installment when you learn how to qapsraq (and, possibly, what qapsraq means).

How to Survive: Develop Hobbies

2008-10-16T18:56:00.004-08:00

One of the keys to surviving in Shishmaref is to develop hobbies. Without movie theaters, malls, restaurants, and family around, Steve and I have a lot of available time. One of the hobbies I recently started pursuing to fill my evening hours is photography. I bought a Nikon D80 and a couple of sweet lenses last year (Hey Steve! Thanks for letting me make a major purchase!).

After fiddling around and perusing Flickr and some photography blogs, I started to be able to take some pretty decent pictures. I got to practice this summer when my little sister Lisa married Jason Davenport of Pocatello.

Now, I'm not pretending to be a wedding photographer. I'm not nearly as talented as my amazing sister-in-law, and I'm not planning on quitting my day job. I just like to have fun taking and sharing pictures.

But... pictures like this? They inflate my ego.

So, excuse me if I show off a little.

I'm actually quite proud of some of these shots.

I may not have been able to replace the real photographer, but I'd like to think that only a sister could could capture a few of these moments.

Because only a sister can inspire true silliness.

And the professional photographer's not always there when Mom and Dad are late picking us up.

And you never act more like yourself than when you're around family.

Since we're talking about family, I might as well show you this picture of me with my brothers and sisters. (I'm third from the left. Just in case you're from Alaska, and you've only ever seen me with my hair in a ponytail.)

We more typically look like this... I may be the loudest and spazziest Busch child, but all of us are pretty silly.

I originally titled this photo "Busch Babes." Then I realized that wasn't exactly accurate. One of these babes is a Busch, but one is an Alston. And one is a Davenport. And one is a Winterbottom. Weird.

Thanks for getting married Lisa and Jason!!! It was a great chance for me to practice my new hobby.

Social Studies Rocks: Inupiaq Dictionary

2008-10-14T17:42:00.001-08:00

Many of my social studies classes have been consumed by our most recent project: the Inupiaq Dictionary.

Several forces combined to make the Inupiaq Dictionary a reality:

-my desire to learn the local Inupiaq language

-my first year teaching Alaska Studies Levels 3-5

-Ginger, one of my teaching idols, showing me a cool project that a school in Marshall, Alaska did using the Yup'ik language

Ginger and I put our digital heads together and we came up with the Inupiaq Dictionary project.

Here's how it worked:

I sent my fourth hour class out into the village to take pictures with digital cameras.

Taking pictures of Eskimo food was pretty popular.

This was my favorite picture of the activity. (This is a caribou head f.y.i.) I love how the tongue is hanging out. I'm not sure if that's natural or if it's the result of high school boys combined with a digital camera.

Some of the pictures turned out to be pretty good quality. I was impressed.

Some were kind of silly. This is a bellybutton. The group who took this picture refuses to reveal who the bellybutton belongs to. I have my suspicions...

Once my little photographers had completed taking pictures, one of our bilingual instructors came in and taught the kids (and their teacher!) how to write and pronounce the Inupiaq words.

It was fascinating!!! I learned that my favorite picture is tuttum niaqua.

tuttum = caribou (possessive)
niaqua= head

My kids took a picture of this four-wheeler (referred to generically as "Honda" - think kleenex, sneakers, xerox, etc.) to be funny. Hondas are a recent addition to the Inupiaq way of life, so they thought that there would be no Inupiaq word. They were wrong.

Turns out that if there's no Inupiaq translation, you add a 'q' to the end of the word. Honda becomes hondaq.

Once we mastered the pronunciations, the kids recorded their voices saying the words. Then they added a page to our School District Wiki and uploaded their sound file, picture, etc.

Our school district wiki is powered by MediaWiki. Editing requires a very rudimentary knowledge of computer code. Now, I know some of my readers have been coding since birth (you know who you are...), but imagine trying to teach a crew of junior high and high school students how to code.

It was at times painful. Coding is an exact art. One missed slash, and your page looks like this. It took some time for the kids to get used to making everything perfect, but we persevered. Ginger and some other tech savvy teachers helped us implement a template, and that made things easier.

The kids who had the easiest time with the coding were the kids who are super into MySpace. All the time they spent tweaking their profiles came in handy. (Hey MySpace! Thanks for actually teaching my kids something!)

I made the above page. I'm quite proud of it. If you click here you can actually play the mp3 file and hear my very white voice pronouncing the word. One of my boys (who is quite skilled at speaking Inupiaq) said my pronunciation was perfect. I beamed. (He was probably just being nice, but I'll take what I can get.)

My fourth hour class was championriffic as we refined the process. Now a few other Social Studies classes in Shishmaref are contributing. Last week I flew to Unalakleet and helped teach students and teachers from other schools how to contribute. Next week Ginger and I will help teach an inservice workshop on the same subject. We're hoping the project continues to grow. Meanwhile, be prepared to learn a little Inupiaq...

VFN's Big Announcement

2008-10-11T13:44:00.002-08:00

Okay, okay, so this announcement isn't really all that big a deal in the grand scheme of things, but it is a big deal in the world of VFN.

I was granted a Fulbright Teaching Exchange in Morocco. I will be spending six weeks in Tahanaoute, Morocco, 20 kilometers south of Marrakech. I will be team teaching in a high school English classroom.

For those of you who need help locating Morocco (don't feel bad, you probably just had bad social studies teachers), I have conveniently provided this satellite image thanks to Google Maps (Hey Google! You rock!). The little pinkish bubble with the letter "A" marks the location of the town where I will be staying.

This image shows Tahanaoute relative to the rest of Morocco.

This is as close a look at Tahanoute as your going to get until I get there. Notice that Tahanoute is at the foot of the High Atlas Mountains.

I am working feverishly to get ready. The above picture shows the reading material I've been working through (please excuse my dreadful appearance. Our heater isn't working. That fact is made even more traumatic by the recent weather. I've spent the last eighteen hours wrapped up in multiple layers of clothing and cocooned in my down comforter. I haven't felt my toes and nose for hours (Hi Mom! I generally brush my hair every day! I promise!)). The books on the left are the ones I've already read. The books on the right are the ones I still need to read.

It appears that I only have four books left. That is woefully misleading. There are about three books that you can't see in the picture because the little blue book is blocking them. Turns out it's kind of hard to hold lots of books upright with one hand.

These are the books I am currently reading. I had hoped to be able to hold all of my Morocco books in the same picture, but I'm too uncoordinated (and cold). (VFN would like to sincerely thank our backup photographer Steve for taking the time out of his busy Saturday to take the above pictures. Your willingness to pause old episodes of Stargate on behalf of this blog with only minimal grumbling is truly inspiring.)

In a pale and feeble imitation of American Dresdner's hilarious and witty interviews, I present the first VFN exclusive interview:

View From the North: Why Morocco?

Angela Busch Alston: Because it's so different from Shishmaref.

VFN: Aren't most places on earth different from Shishmaref?

ABA: Well, yeah, but Morocco is super different from Shishmaref.

VFN: Super different? Wow. What an outstanding command of the English language you have. You'll be a great teacher.

ABA: (Fidgets uncomfortably)

VFN: So, is Steve going with you?

ABA: No, Steve will be staying in Shishmaref.

VFN: How long will you be gone?

ABA: Um, six weeks.

VFN: Weren't you already apart from Steve six weeks this summer?

ABA: Um, yes.

VFN: So, do you guys still like each other or what?

ABA: Actually, Steve is my most favoritest person in the universe, thank you for asking.

VFN: You just happen to be spending significant amounts of time on a different continent than your husband?

ABA: Exactly.

VFN: I see. How come Steve is staying in Shishmaref?

ABA: It's hard enough to find one long-term sub. We didn't want the school to have to find two.

VFN: What is Steve going to do with himself while you are away?

ABA: Probably watch movies and eat lots of Chili Mac.

VFN: Does this concern you.

ABA: Nah. He did it for seven years before we got married, and he survived.

VFN: When do you leave?

ABA: October 27th.

VFN: Are you ready?

ABA: Not even close. I still have to finish my lesson plans for my substitute, pack, collect all of the materials I want to take to Morocco, order Christmas presents and cards...

VFN: Wait, order Christmas presents and cards?

ABA: Well, let's just say certain members of the Alston household are less than reliable about selecting and ordering gifts in time for important holidays. If it doesn't happen before I leave, it probably won't happen at all.

VFN: What will happen to your blogging while you're traipsing around Northern Africa?

ABA: I'm going to start a Morocco-experiences only blog so that my students can follow all of my adventures.

VFN: Will you keep VFN readers posted of the new blog address.

ABA: Absolutely.

If you having any follow-up questions to submit to VFN, leave them in the comments. I think I'm going to go read another book about Morocco.

Field Trip: Church Conference

2008-10-09T19:27:00.000-08:00

When I was in Teller, I attended the semi-annual Lutheran Church conference. The conference is a gathering of Lutheran congregations across the Seward Peninsula. The 2008 Fall Conference was hosted in Teller.

Part of the conference was dedicated to groups of people getting up and singing. The lady in the reddish (mauve? magenta? dark fuschia?) shirt is the math teacher in Shishmaref. She sang some hymns in Inupiaq. It was very cool. She was accompanied by the pastor from Brevig Mission. In addition to being cool enough to play the guitar, he also sang the songs in Inupiaq (what a guy!).

The math teacher convinced me to sing a few hymns with her and her mom. We sang "I Need Thee Every Hour" and "Come Thou Fount." It was scary.

My favorite part of our songs was when this little guy (the offspring of the woman in the above picture singing Inupiaq songs) spilled his sippy cup of water all over the floor. I had no idea that the volume of sippy cups is deceivingly large.

I spent some of the time looking for familiar hymns in the Lutheran hymn books.

One of my all time favorites...

One of the first songs I sang in a stake choir. (Shout out to Sister Hunt who was the director! Shout out to Teira who was her daughter and my classmate at Cannon Middle School!)

One of my favorites from a Mormon Tabernacle Choir CD.

Two ones I knew on one page! Bonus!

Some songs I also recognized from hours of road trips with my grandparents.

Thanks Grandma and Grandpa...

my musical horizons were broadened because of you...

Thanks also to Celine Dion for her rendition of this song that seems to get trapped in my head.

I also spent some of the time looking at songs I wish I knew. Like the above song.

And this one...

This is the conference theme verse translated into Inupiaq. Cool, huh?

Attending and singing in an Inupiaq Lutheran Conference. Another one of the many things I never considered doing before moving to Alaska...

Pro: More Adorable Eskimo Kids

2008-10-07T18:58:00.000-08:00

Last week Steve and I went to this little guy's first birthday party.

He was having a great time with Steve.

He was really snuggling up to Steve-O, so I decided to get in on the action. After all, kids always like me more than they like Steve.

Unfortunately, this was the best I could do. Sigh...

Oh well, at least I got this adorable picture of the big sister eating his birthday cake.

Hello Snow

2008-10-05T19:37:00.002-08:00

Hello Snow. Welcome to Shishmaref. You came a little early this year.

Hello icicles on my neighbor's roof.

Goodbye wearing my Chacos to class. Goodbye cuffing my pants because they're too long with sandals.

Hello big clunky winter boots.

Goodbye sand that tracks in on our shoes and gathers in piles throughout the house.

Hello snow that tracks in on our boots and makes wet puddles on our floor.

Goodbye frolicking on the beach.

Hello beach covered in snow.

Goodbye hours of watching temperate sunsets over water.

Hello watching seconds of freezing sunsets over snow.

The seasons have changed...

Creative Cooking: Doughnuts Shishmaref Style

2008-10-04T20:53:00.003-08:00

Last week I took a cooking lesson from one of my favoritest students. She brought over her grandma's doughnut recipe, and we gave it a whirl.

This is not a frothy heated beverage. It is yeast and warm water. It was the first step of the Shishmaref doughnuts.

I was feeling pretty lazy, so I decided to try to mix the dough in the bread maker. Our Kitchen Aid is still in Washington, and I really didn't want to stir everything by hand.

Things got a little un-okay when I added the eggs. The bread maker created this little yellow vortex surrounded by a majority of the shortening and sugar.

I used a little wooden spoon action (or maybe it was rubber spatula action) to scrape the sides, resulting in a more appropriate egg/shortening/sugar mixture.

I added the flour...

and let the dough rise for a few hours.

We rolled it out. My cooking tutor rolled her dough thicker than the dough in the above picture. I ended up re-rolling mine in order to have more thickness.

We used glasses to cut the dough into circles. I was informed that my glasses are, in fact, too small to make proper doughnuts.

My cooking tutor showed me how she uses her fingers to make the doughnut holes.

After letting the doughnuts rise for about forty-five minutes, we threw them in hot oil. The above picture is of my pot of hot oil and doughnuts.

This pot belongs to my cooking tutor. You'll notice that she has significantly more doughnuts than mine. That's because she's a doughnut pro, and I'm a mere amateur.

I was satisfied manning my four. That way I could flip them over when they were golden.

Our effort resulted in a pile of doughnuts. This is just one of the piles.

I added my own little twist to the Shishmaref dougnuts: toppings! I've almost always seen doughnuts in Shishmaref served plain (like the one on the right). We topped ours with powdered sugar (that was Steve's idea), maple frosting (the one on the upper left that looks like glaze), and chocolate fudge frosting (left over from some killer cake I made a while ago).

The verdict: two thumbs way up!!! I had to give most of the doughnuts away so that we wouldn't eat them all...

Here's the recipe for Shishmaref Doughnuts:

3 packets of yeast
1 c warm water
2/3 c shortening
2/3 c sugar
2 tsp salt
3 eggs
1 c Milk
7 c flour

Mix the yeast with the warm water and set aside. Mix the shortening with the sugar (using a bread maker is fine and especially labor saving). Add the eggs, milk, and salt. Mix. Gradually add flour. Mix.

Knead the dough (or let it go through a dough cycle in your bread maker). Let the dough rise until doubled in size.

Roll out the dough. Cut it into appropriate doughnut-sized circles. Use your thumb to make doughnut holes. Let the doughnuts rise until doubled in size.

Heat oil. Put the doughnuts in the oil. Flip when golden. Take out of the oil and drain on paper towels.

Enjoy plain for an authentic Shishmaref experience. Frost for a little VFN flair.

Con: High Shipping Prices

2008-09-27T18:50:00.002-08:00

One of the worstest (I know it's not a word, but it's the weekend, okay) things about living in Shishmaref is the high shipping prices.

Whatever it costs to mail things to the Lower 48, the shipping rates invariably increase exponentially (I'm sure VFN's international readership can commiserate) when mailing to Alaska. Sigh..

Last week, or so, I did a little shopping in order to, literally, spice up some of my cooking adventures.

I was tired of using powdered garlic. I am a bona fide garlic lover, and the powdered stuff just didn't have the oomph I was looking for.

I also have an affinity for limes. I picked it up from my beautiful sister who spent six weeks in Mexico and Central America. She told me that the people she met squeezed limes on everything. (I tried it, and it turns out that Mexicans and Central Americans are right: food does taste better with a little lime!)

I spent entirely too much time on Amazon.com trying to find a place that 1)carried both minced garlic in water and lime juice, 2) wasn't some quote-unquote-gourmet-type-place-that-thinks-it-must-charge-seventy-five-times-the-market-value-in-order-to-appear-prestigious, and 3) shipped to Alaska. It's harder than you might think...

I was so thrilled when I found a store that fit those qualifications that I ordered right away. I was equally thrilled when the box arrived.

I didn't pay too much attention to the invoice until Steve pointed the total out to me.

Here's a closeup for those of you who missed it the first time. Yes, that's right $64.70. You'll also notice that the actual cooking supplies were only $3.99 and $5.49. THE OTHER $55.22 WAS FOR SHIPPING!!!

It turns out that the nice Amazon merchant did in fact ship to Alaska, but he/she charged over $25 an item to ship. Grrrrrr...

Now, gentle readers may be wondering why VFN agreed to such an outrageous price. Here's the truth: VFN didn't notice the shipping prices. VFN ordered a lot of other stuff on Amazon.com at the same time. When the editor-in-chief saw a big shipping number, she erroneously thought it was because she ordered lots of things.

Sigh... I think I'll go hang my head in shame.

How to Survive: Trips to Town

2008-09-21T19:06:00.004-08:00

Steve had to go into Nome this weekend. The reason he had to go had nothing to do with grocery shopping, but that was definitely a bonus.

I sent Steve with a list of groceries to bring home. I thought we should take advantage of an opportunity to buy things we can't get in Shishmaref.

I was so smitten with the beautiful bottles of vinegar that I had to take some wannabe artistic shots.

It's fun to play with pretty bottles.

Steve also made some of his own purchases. I was especially excited to see the cilantro (that's the green stuff on the left). Cilantro is our favorite herb.

Steve also picked up some plain yogurt. I've been dying to try some recipes with plain yogurt. I'm especially excited about the prospect of making my own cream cheese and sour cream.

Our new ingredients freshened up our fajitas. Fajitas make regular appearances at the VFN household. Not to brag, but we make the awesomest homemade tortillas. Our tortillas were joined by some equally awesome homemade salsa, which started out as the above pictured canned tomatoes. (I would have loved to use fresh tomatoes, but the tomatoes at our store were all moldy.)

Then I added beans, corn, and lime juice

Then I chopped the cilantro with my ulu. As you can tell, I got a little lazy with my chopping.

I added the cilantro and sealed the salsa in a tupperware dish. Then Steve reminded me that I forgot to add the white wine vinegar. (One of the reasons I wanted to make the salsa was because Steve brought home the white wine vinegar. Duh.) I sealed the tupperware again. Then I had to open it to add the fresh onions. Double duh. I put the tupperware in the fridge for the third time. Then I let it sit overnight so that the flavors could meld.

I also used cilantro to season the chicken for the fajitas.

This is how fajitas start Alston style. You always put the sour cream on the tortillas first.

Then you add the meat stuff.

If your husband went to Nome over the weekend, you add your delicious homemade salsa. The online recipe said that some people like to eat it with a fork straight out of the bowl. I thought those people were weird until I tried it. It is definitely worth eating with a fork. In fact, I may do exactly that after I finish this post. :)

Field Trip: Teller

2008-09-14T13:25:00.001-08:00

This weekend I got to travel to the village of Teller for some training on using Google Earth in the classroom (stay tuned for some future Social Studies Rocks posts featuring this amazing program).

I thought I would take VFN readers on the grand tour.

Disclaimer: I was taking most of these photos in very bright sunlight. I also was feeling very lazy. As a result, most of these pictures are not exposed correctly. I know that. I just chose not to care. Thank you.

This is a view of Teller from the airplane. Teller is an Inupiaq village of about 300 people.

This is the Teller School. This is where the workshop was held. This is also where I spent the night.

Teller School sports a fairly typical playground...

and a fairly atypical school bus. I think they are the only school in our district with a bus. The village is split between two locations: New Site and Old Site. The school is in Old Site, and it's kind of far from the homes in New Site. So, the bus makes a couple of trips out to New Site every day.

Do I really need to mention that this is the Teller Lutheran Church? Probably not. Teller has a Lutheran Church and a Catholic Church. My friend Mary told me that the Catholic Church is more popular. The pastor of the Lutheran Church actually lives in the nearby village of Brevig Mission. He comes over to Teller every Saturday night and gets the church ready for the Sunday morning sermon.

Here's the National Guard station in Teller. If it's anything like the Shishmaref National Guard station, it's pretty empty most of the year.

Most villages have a community hall. Said halls are primarily used to play bingo.

The Teller clinic, in all it's glory.

Looks like something crazy happened on the walls of the clinic...

This was my favorite spot in Teller. A perfect place to sit and look out across the bay. And have a BBQ! I love Alaska.

Teller is connected to Nome by road. Lucky Teller. As a result, people from Teller spend a lot more time in Nome than the people from other villages because they don't have to pay ridiculous plane fares to get into town.

The Nome-Teller connection also means Teller is also home to lots of dead cars.

When cars (or vans) die, there's really no place for them to go.

So they just sit outside and wither away slowly. Future generations may refer to Teller as "The Place Primitive Vehicles Went to Die."

This is the view of the village from just outside of town.

This is what my feet looked like after I walked back into town.

This is a shot to prove that we really did spend time learning about geographic measurements and GPS programs. (Hey Federal Government! Thanks for the grant that made this possible!)

A view of Teller from the airport as we were leaving. I love the fall colors.

If anybody is interested in visiting Teller as a vacation destination, let me know. I will do my best to hook you up with four star accommodations, dining, and entertainment.

Field Trip: Angie's Classroom!

2008-09-09T20:48:00.004-08:00

VFN now brings you the views you've been dying to see: the insider's view to my classroom. For the convenience of my beloved readers, I annotated the photographs. I could have taken the time to make text boxes, but I thought the text boxes lost a lot of the "graffiti feel."

This is a photo of the outside of my portable.

1. I used to have a banister here. Some kids got a little too rough with it over the summer.

2. The vast expanse I have to cross daily to get to my classroom. It doesn't look intimidating now, but imagine it covered in four feet of snow.

3. Some towers behind me. I think they have something to do with providing electricity for our village.

4. Some random barrels. I think they used to hold oil.

5. The staircase that will be completely covered in snow before Christmas.

The Angie Board. It's right behind my desk.

1. Pictures from the senior trip Steve and I chaperoned (yes, I took a work trip to Hawaii; hate me if you must).

2. Wedding announcement and wedding candids. So my kids know what I looked like before I was an old married woman.

3. Caricature of me drawn in Hawaii. In case you can't tell, I'm wearing a cape, and the drawing is titled "Super Angie." How appropriate.

4. Interview with Dave Barry. I've read his column ever since I was in grade school. One of the biggest disappointments of my life (okay, I admit, I've had a very good life, but STILL) was when he stopped his weekly column. Luck for me, he re-emerges every four years to cover elections.

5. My pink water bottle. It goes everywhere.

6. Do I really need to tell you who this is? Do you really not recognize the first woman to serve on the Supreme Court? You must have had bad social studies teachers.

One of my hobbies is cutting up news magazines to make posters for my classroom. (It's okay. You can think it's lame. I've already come to grips with it.) This is my latest set of posters about the election.

Some of the cut up magazines also make it to my bureaus. This one highlighted the Olympics.

1. Cover photo of LeBron James. My students affectionately refer to him as "LeBrick."

2. The amazing Dara Torres. When I grow up I want to be like her. But I probably won't be.

3. Shawn Johnson. One of the boys in my last hour class is in love with her. He has a picture of her on his binder.

Behind the Olympians is my supply cupboard. The kids are supposed to stay out of it, but it's unbelievably attractive to their little fingers..

1. Filing supplies. I hate running out of them.

2. A rolled up poster of something. I didn't know where else to put it.

3. Binder clips. I have a compulsive need for them.

This is the paper and writing utensil cupboard.

1. My nifty paper holder that stores them according to color. It's new this year. I heart it.

2. Evidence of my failed attempts to teach my students organization. Each class period has a cupboard, but some of the kids insist on stashing their binders on top of my bureaus.

3. Smelly markers. Another item in my classroom I heart.

4. Paper scrap box.

5. Class set of grownup size scissors. I ordered them so that my kids would stop borrowing mine out of my desk.

I heart my smelly markers so much that they deserve a close up. I couldn't teach without them. They are a huge motivation to my kids.

This is the art cupboard. We use it for all sorts of fun hands-on projects.

1. Little plastic containers. They're like the containers for fry sauce (whoa, Idaho alert!). We use them for paint, beads, and spices.

2. Bubble wrap. I just saved it in case it came in handy.

3. Raffia. It just seemed like a good thing to have in an art cupboard.

4. Feathers and other random paraphernalia. They come in handy at the oddest times.

This cupboard belongs to two of my most lovable students. For three years I tried to help them organize their social studies binders. I begged. I pleaded. I stood over them while they put their papers in the right sections. It didn't work. Their binders were a disaster. They could never find anything.

Finally I gave them their own cupboard. Miraculously, they can find everything now. Works for me...

This is my teacher of the month poster. You may not be impressed that I was teacher of the month in a school with only sixteen teachers, but I'll have you know that there have only been three teachers of the month from Shishmaref School. I was the third. :)

My poster makes me feel better about myself when I look at my files. I made the mistake of ordering the cheapest metal frames out of the supply catalog. They didn't last a week.

1. My little magnet clippy men. I have about ten, but I can only ever find about four of them at a time. My male students like to hide them around the classroom attached to random metal surfaces.

2. It looks messy, but it's actually organized topically by World, U.S., and Alaska History.

3. Label left over from a Law and Order video we made during my first year in Shishmaref. I haven't bothered to remove it yet.

1. The most beautiful item in my classroom. I bought this chair at Sam's Club in Anchorage last year. It was only fifty bucks. It cost forty dollars to mail to Shishmaref. Best ninety dollars I've ever spent.

2. My Disney princess calendar.

The second most beautiful thing in my classroom: my princess desk. I couldn't bear to throw away last year's princess calendar, so I made it into a desk cover.

My boy students were extremely unimpressed with the princess desk. In order to appease them, I granted them (almost) complete control over one of the bureaus. It is called The Boy Cupboard.

1. Advertisement featuring Kobe Bryant and Shaquille O'Neal. I have some diehard Kobe fans in my classes, and the advertisement has sparked intense feelings.

2. Another glaring advertisement of my failure to instill a sense of organization in my students.

Congratulations on making it all the way through the field trip. The classroom is actually quite bare right now. It will become slightly more alive looking after we create some things. I'll be sure to keep everybody posted.

Social Studies Rocks: Our Political Blog

2008-09-03T17:01:00.001-08:00

I thought I'd take advantage of my status as supreme empress editor at VFN and put in a shameless plug for my Social Studies Class Blog.

My kiddos are evaluating election advertisements, speeches, propaganda, etc. They are very new to blogging, and they just made their first posts TODAY!

It would totally rock their world if they got some comments from far away places (pretty much everything is far away from Shishmaref...). So, do me a favor and stop by. Rack up their view count, ask them thought-provoking questions, watch the movies they embed. Feel free to also mention how outrageously outstanding their teacher is. :)

How To Survive: Take Advantage of Fresh Stuff

2008-08-30T17:07:00.002-08:00

I hadn't been to the store for a while, so I thought I'd take a walk over and see what was available. Imagine my surprise when I was BOMBARDED with fresh stuff! Wahoo! Needless to say, I exercised no restraint and bought it all. Now I have some very big plans. Here's what I scored:

Butter. Real butter. I went to the store hoping to find this so that I can make Steve some from-scratch chocolate cake. It turns out that my recent baking escapades have only involved my favorite types of desserts (mainly centered around caramel). I had been selfishly ignoring Steve's preferences (it happens sometimes).

one pound of butter = $5.15

I postponed my chocolate cake plans when I discovered these apples. They weren't the firmest apples around, but they were free from mold, rottenness, and oozing juices, which makes them outstanding village apples. I will use them to make an apple pie. Lucky Steve...

four apples = $5.65

Peppers! Green peppers! Steve didn't like peppers when we got married. Now he loves them. I consider that one of my finest achievements. Some of these beauties are destined for fajitas with homemade tortillas, but tonight I will use two of them in stuffed peppers. It was going to be a surprise for Steve, but as soon as he woke up from his nap, I told him.

five green peppers = $6.25

Onions make pretty regular appearances at the store, but I'm still grateful for them. Mostly I'm grateful that when I put my hand in the onion bin I didn't touch anything soft and squishy.

Four yellow onions = $3.92

These are my babies. I heart tomatoes. I used to eat them like apples when I didn't live at the edge of the earth. The tomatoes that make it to Shishmaref are usually mushy, but these look pretty good. Of course, it helps that I dumped out the little green basket and filled it with only the firmest red spheres. I felt a little guilty, but I'd do it again in a heartbeat.

pint of cherry tomatoes = $2.29 (I was so jazzed when the cashier said that price that I hollered, "Wahoo!!!" Right in the store. In front of people.)

Since I bought the tomatoes, I had to buy cream cheese so I could make garlic stuffed tomatoes. I'm a little bit ashamed to admit how excited I am to eat the tomatoes stuffed with the cream cheese. My fixation on them has reached the "unhealthy" stage.

sixteen ounces of cream cheese = $8.55

Eggs. Always a good idea, especially if Steve is overcome with a desire to make me breakfast in bed.

one dozen eggs = $3.49

This last purchase was purely a token of love for Steve-o. He likes to make pizza. I want him to be able to do things that he likes. I also want to encourage him to cook as often as possible. :)

thirty slices of pepperoni = $3.15

Grand total (with tax) = $39.22

Major excitement and staving off food boredom for another week = priceless.

Dirty Jobs: Shishmaref Style

2008-08-25T17:28:00.002-08:00

Back in March I introduced VFN reader to our unique plumbing situation. Today I learned a little bit more about how our non-plumbing works.

My fourth hour class was out taking pictures for an Alaska History assignment (they're going to learn the corresponding Inupiaq words tomorrow). They came back with images of typical Shishmaref life, including some of the finer points of Shishmaref plumbing.

These are the waste bins. No big deal. You saw these in the last blog post about plumbing.

Here are the anuq men in action. They use the hose to suck up the waste from the bins.

Here's another view. This one nicely highlights the waste tank.

This wide angle shot shows the anuq vacuum attached to a truck. The vacuum attaches to the truck via a regular trailer hitch.

Nice, huh? Now you know for a fact that these guys actually use a gigantic vacuum cleaner to remove the waste from the bins. I wasn't exaggerating.

Creative Cooking: Spaghetti Carbonara

2008-08-24T16:26:00.004-08:00

Food boredom has already set in out on the Alaska Frontier, so I had turn to my trusty friend. Amateur Gourmet. His spaghetti carbonara seemed reasonable and (more importantly) was compatible with the contents of my pantry, so I decided to give it a shot.

(Warning: for some reason today I completely forgot how to focus my camera. The pictures looked fine in the viewfinder, but they ended up blurry. Maybe I should have put my contacts in before shooting... My sincerest apologies, and please don't sue me for eyestrain. I probably can't afford it.)

Alaskan cooking is always in adventure in substitutions, and this recipe was no different. In fact, the only ingredients in this recipe I didn't substitute were spaghetti noodles and olive oil...

I was supposed to add pancetta to the olive oil. I don't usually keep pancetta around the house, so I had to settle for a handful of bacon bits (at least they were the real bacon bacon bits).

I looked at the bacon/olive oil mixture in the frying pan and decided I needed to add more oil. Due to the fact that the olive oil had the above pictured pour top (also due to the fact that I am a moron), I ended up putting way too much in the pan. I briefly considered trying to pour it back in the bottle, but I decided that if I'd used real pancetta the whole thing would be full of fat anyway. (If Steve dies of a heart attack this week, it's my fault. I sincerely apologize to his family and friends.)

Fresh garlic turned into garlic powder. I'm usually a throw-however-much-looks-good-into-the-pan kind of chef. But, I recently had a very bad experience with some garlic mashed potatoes, so I busted out the old measuring spoon for this addition.

I fried this all up, and it smelled great!

I was supposed to add white wine, but I was fresh out (if only the recipe had called for red wine*), so I used chicken broth and lemon juice. Stop laughing. The sages at switcheroo.com said it was okay.

I added the "white wine" to the wannabe pancetta mixture, and it boiled down to a nice sauce.

Meanwhile, I did have parmesan cheese in the refrigerator, although I'm not sure it's what Amateur Gourmet had in mind when he said "fresh grated parmesan."

I mixed the high quality parmesan with a couple of eggs. The resulting substance looked, but did not, I repeat: DID NOT, taste like corn muffin batter.

I stirred the noodles in the egg mixture like crazy. I was terrified that I wouldn't stir fast enough, causing disgusting egg chunks to develop. Luckily, the disgusting chunks were evaded. Pppphhhhhheeeeeewww!

After mixing in the faux pancetta, I had the finished product. Ta-da!!! I know, I know, it's a little anti-climatic. Please excuse the poor presentation. I lacked the fresh parsley to use as garnish, and I didn't think dried chives or oregano would have the same effect. Don't judge this recipe based on the poor picture above. Look at Amateur Gourmet's picture in order to be inspired to prepare this recipe.

Despite its homely appearance, the Spaghetti Carbonara was delicious. I was thrilled to be able to serve it to my well-deserving husband who said, "This was a lot better than the chili mac I was going to have for lunch."

Sigh. Oh well. At least he didn't put ketchup on it.

*That was a joke. The Alston household is one hundred percent free of both red and white wines. Thank you.

Social Studies Rocks: Burying Our Chicken Mummies

2008-08-22T22:25:00.003-08:00

Because I have no children, pets, or cable TV, my social studies classes consume my life. So, I thought I would create a new feature here at VFN to share some of the fun things we do in class.

My apologies to anyone who is bored with the following post. I am only a teacher in an isolated place. I don't have a lot else to offer the blog world. :)

Last year my last hour social studies class did a unit on Ancient Egypt. The culminating project was mummifying chickens (okay, actually they were cornish game hens). They dehydrated the carcasses in salt, designed and constructed sarcophagai, oiled and spiced the dehydrated carcasses, wrapped the spiced hen bodies in athletic bandages, made amulets, and everything.

It was a very involved project. Someday I'll blog about it, but not right now (If you're absolutely dying for the details, you can go to our school district wiki page and check out the pictures here).

Unfortunately, by the time our chicken mummies were ready, it was winter, and the ground was too frozen for us to bury them. I promised the kids we would bury the chickens when I came back after the summer. Today I kept my promise.

They were totally engaged in the burial process by the time I caught up with them. (I'll admit it: I'm slow. I like to meander. And chat. And take pictures.)

The most efficient means of digging turned out to be jumping on the shovel.

One group chose a really tough spot to dig. I suggested that they move to an alternate location, but they ignored me because I am obviously an idiot that doesn't know anything.

They kept trying to break the ground...

and trying.

Some of the kids got bored while their classmates were busy trying to dig up Sarichef Island's most impossible piece of ground. They started throwing chunks of earth at each other.

Because I'm such a good teacher, I took pictures instead of stopping them.

Other kids picked blackberries. Notice that these are Alaskan blackberries, not the electric kind or the kind that look like black raspberries. I ate a couple of these berries. Then my kids pointed out that they wouldn't be ready for another couple of weeks. That explained the extremely bitter taste and the fact that I spit them out after chewing.

Here is a picture of the blackberries in their natural habitat. Notice that they don't grow on bushes of the traditional variety. They grow really close to the ground.

Finally, the kids decided that I was right (whouda thunk?) and they needed to switch locations. The chicken mummy was transported with the utmost care. (BTW, I majorly heart this kid. He is the cutest funniest little guy. He's the one that convinced me to coach cross country skiing last year. If he asked me for $100, and I happened to have a Benjamin Franklin in my pocket, I'd probably just give it to him. He's irresistible.)

I just have to show this sarcophagus off for a minute. Isn't it adorable? It's products like this that make me think I might not be a complete failure as a teacher. This sarcophagus was, obviously, created by a pair of girls. The boys thought they were done painting after about 2.3 seconds.

Eventually, the kids managed to dig some pretty respectable holes.

Then my little honeys put the mummies into the holes...

and buried them.

We had talked about the fact that the Ancient Egyptians built pyramids as tombs, so they made little sand pyramids on top of their buried mummies.

One group decided their mummy needed a weed instead of a pyramid. Don't ask me. I was just the white lady supervising them. (Incidentally, this was the same group that ignored my suggestions about proper burial locations.)

On our way back to school, we got a little distracted. We HAD to stop at the basketball hoop so that I could take pictures of the kids trying to dunk the ball.

This was lots of fun and made for some very cool shots. Unfortunately, it made us late getting back. When we got back to the school, the next class had already started. The principal had my sixth hour kids in the library, and I had to write tardy excuses for all of my chicken buriers. Oops.

I didn't get fired, which was cool. Plus, the kids and I had a lot of fun. Nobody got outrageously hurt. I only got sand in my mouth once. I pretty much consider this a very successful day of social studies.

Why I am Glad to Be Back in Alaska

2008-08-18T21:41:00.004-08:00

After three months of gallivanting around Southeast Asia and bouncing between Washington, Idaho, and Utah, I am glad to be back in Alaska for the following reasons.

-I don't have to live out of a suitcase anymore. In Asia I lived out of a 35L backpack. In the states I lived out of a carry-on sized suitcase. My clothes were perpetually wrinkled, and I wore the same ones over and over and over and over.

-I now have Internet access twenty-four hours a day. This summer I sometimes had to go DAYS without getting on the Internet. My youngest sister said it best, "You and the Internet are, like, one." I am an Internet junkie. Why spend time looking for a phone book when you can google the phone number? Why walk upstairs and ask my mom how to cut pineapple when I can get an illustrated step-by-step guide in 0.63 seconds? I feel unstable if I can't check my bloglines and headlines. I feel much better now that I am connected.

-I get to sleep in my own bed. Those of you VFN readers that don't own a memory foam mattress pad and a down comforter need to buy one right now. I'm serious. If you can't afford one, start saving your pennies. I am so in love with my bed. Best money we've spent since getting married.

I am back. Life is good. More witty commentary to come soon.

VFN Celebrates the Flower Festival

2008-06-01T01:48:00.004-08:00

This picture is completely unrelated to the blog post. I just wanted everyone to say hello to the adorable little lizard that shares our shower. To appreciate how tiny he is, compare his size to the size of the drain holes.

(Anybody who wants to complain about the bluriness of the photo, especially considering the high class quality of my sweet macro lens, can imagine themselves squatting in the shower of a Thai bathroom. It was a little uncomfortable. I also had to manual focus, and the little guy kept moving because I was scaring him.*)

*I actually have no idea if this lizard was a male or female. He just seemed boyish to me.

Colleen and I were lucky enough to be in Chiang Mai for the Flower Festival. It is a holiday honoring the Buddha. We went to the Wat (temple) in Chiang Mai that is at the very center of the city.

These are the amazing people we spent the evening with. The girl in the orange shorts work for Boong, our travel agent. She and her friends took us to the festival and helped us understand what was happening and what we were supposed to do.

In addition to being super helpful, they were also very fun and friendly. It almost felt like they weren't being paid to hang out with us. :) (They all studied tourism in college, so that might have contributed to their excellent customer service.)

(Please avoid any smarmy comments about how bad my hair looks or how sweaty my face is. I know. It is OUTRAGEOUSLY hot and humid here. My poor little Alaskan body can barely handle it. Thank you.)

Note to readers: please get used to the shirt in the above picture. I only brought three shirts on this trip, so you're going to be seeing it a lot.

Outside of the Wat, there were stalls lined up selling flowers, candles, birds, and other tokens. We bought a basket of goodies as our offering to the Buddha. The candles had our birth day written on them. Since I was born on Sunday, I got the Sunday candles. The ladies who sold us the goody buckets were very concerned that we get the right candles.

(This is not the best picture. I'm sorry. Our guides said it was appropriate to take pictures, but I was trying to be mindful about the fact that these people were participating in a sacred ceremony. I tried to be as inconspicuous as possible. I didn't want to be obviously about my picture taking because I didn't want to desecrate the experience for any of the local people.)

We took off our shows and took our goody buckets onto a platform where we kneeled down. Then we lit our candles, made a wai (that's the gesture with your hands in praying position), and said a prayer silently. The woman in the above picture is on the same platform and going through the same process.

We left the platform and placed our flowers on little stands that were all around the temple. We also rang lots of big bells for good luck.

There were also smaller candle stands around the temple that people used to make offerings.

It was amazing. There were so many people there, and I really enjoyed watching them. I spent a lot of time standing at the side of the platform watching the locals make their offerings. A lot of incense was burning, so the air smelled really good. The temple was beautifully lit up. The flowers were gorgeous. It was a wonderland for all of my senses.

I've read about Buddhist festivals and ceremonies and watched some on YouTube and National Geographic, but it was a new understanding to be able to participate.

VFN is in Chiang Mai

2008-05-30T18:47:00.003-08:00

Faithful readers, you are fortunate enough that last night's lodgings in Chiang Mai, Thailand were nice enough to offer a flushing toilet, air conditioning, and free Internet access. The first two only contribute to the mood of VFN's head editor, but the third one directly influences the workings of the blog.

First, here is why I am going to Asia: I want to.

I wish I had some noble goal like busting child prostitution rings (thanks for that line Jaz!) or translating ancient Pali texts. I don't. In Kindergarten my teacher showed our class pictures of the Padoung/Karen tribe in Thailand. I was fascinated. I've wanted to go ever since. Twenty years later, I finally made it happen.

While researching travel options, I realized how close Laos, Vietnam, and Cambodia were to fantastical Thailand. What started as a ten day itinerary grew to encompass six weeks! (One of the major perks to being a teacher (besides all the cafeteria food): long vacations.)

Note to readers: Korean Air gives away a lot of free stuff! We were greeted by blankets, pillows, eye masks, sockies, and toothbrushes and toothpaste. It rocked. Almost worth the $1200 plane ticket right there.

Note to readers: Korean food served on Korean airlines. This was called Bibimbap.

Note to readers: Adorable Korean Air flight attendants (who apparently must meet the job requirements of being tiny and beautiful) will identify you as an ignorant American and provide you with illustrated instructions for how to prepare Bibimbap.

Summary of instructions: dump everything in the bowl. Stir. Eat.

Hilarious Colleen quote after trying the Seaweed Soup: "It has recently come to my attention that I cannot eat this."

Note to readers: try to have a long layover in the Seoul Airport sometime. They have a little area where you can do Korean arts and crafts!!!!

Colleen and I both made one of these little boxes. They have a name. The nice Korean ladies taught me the name. I have forgotten the name, but I know that it rhymed with "Angie."

Note to hygienic readers: bathrooms in the Seoul Airport are covered by a self replacing layer of what appears to be industrial strength saran wrap.

It is so humid in Thailand that your lens will immediately fog up when you are standing on the balcony overlooking your hotel's garden. :)

My favorite shot from my first morning in Thailand. The sun is illuminating the leaves outside our balcony.

Well, my Flickr pictures have finished uploading, so I no longer have any excuse to stay on the computer while Chiang Mai awaits!!!

VFN Goes to Southeast Asia!!!

2008-05-28T23:38:00.003-08:00

Gentle readers, it is with great excitement that I inform you that the editorial board of View From the North will be journeying across Southeast Asia for the next six weeks. Honorary editor Steve Alston (world renowned for his quick wit, mad ninja skills, and stunning good looks) will not be accompanying the rest of the editorial board. Instead, VFN's head editor will be accompanied by her Second Best Friend and fellow Shishmaref teacher Colleen (you may refer to her as Cool-een if you desire).

VFN is unsure about the availability of Internet access in the proposed destinations. VFN is also unsure about the desirability of spending hours in Internet Cafes when we could be doing investigative work and getting massages.

VFN urges readers to not abandon the blog if posts are sporadic. Thank you.

Graduation Shishmaref Style

2008-05-24T23:26:00.002-08:00

There are a few things I remember about my high school graduation:

-It was really long.

-My grandmothers sat in the front row.

-I tried to smile the whole time and clap for every graduate because I was in the front row.

-It was really long.

-Brian Winterbottom played his gameboy through the entire thing. I mocked him, but secretly I was envious.

Lucky for me, I get to relive high school graduations every single year!!! Wahoo!!! I thought I would take this opportunity to compare Shishmaref graduation with my Lewiston High School graduation.

LHS graduates: 363
SHS graduates: 4

Number of cakes at LHS graduation: 0
Numbers of cakes at SHS graduation: 10+

We took the seniors into the kitchen before the ceremony to preview the cakes. I encouraged them to sample the cakes ahead of time. Because they're used to ridiculous instructions from their spastic social studies teacher, they humored me.

This senior actually tasted the frosting. I was proud.

Since I was married to one of the cake servers, I scored the world's largest piece of pineapple upside down cake. It was good. The man who gave it to me was good-looking. He winked at me.*

Number of diplomas given to small children at LHS graduation: 0
Number of diplomas given to small children at SHS graduation: Uh, I don't know exactly, but it was about 10.

The preschool kids are awarded "diplomas" at the beginning of the graduation as the replacements for the senior class. It's very cute. One of the little girls had to be dragged on stage while sobbing hysterically. Luckily, she recovered.

Choir at LHS graduation: Uh, some performance choir. They sang a song. I think it was from a musical.
Choir at SHS graduation: The Lutheran Church Senior Choir

Number of kids eating popsicles at LHS graduation: 0
Number of kids eating popsicles at SHS graduation: about 6

Seriously, one of the sixth graders wandered in from the store with a box of popsicles and started passing them out during the middle of the ceremony. My jaw dropped. Only in Shishmaref would this every happen (kids also bring pop and candy to church, but that's a story for another blog post).

I was busy being disgusted when the sixth grader offered me one of the popsicles. I shrugged and accepted it (when in Rome...). You'll be happy to know that I waited until the lights were out during the slideshow before I ate it.

What I did during the graduations-

LHS: sat in the front row with a frozen smile plastered painfully on my face.
SHS: sat in the audience behind a laptop. I ran the speaker's PowerPoint Presentation, the Slideshow, and the music from my laptop.

(Note to astute readers: this picture was taken before the popsicle.)

One of the best part of graduation is watching the receiving line after the ceremony. The graduates line up, and community members come through and congratulate them. This picture (which I happen to think is the best graduation picture EVER) is our valedictorian hugging her basketball coach. Very sweet moment.

It was a happy night. I cried. I hugged my four graduates. I thought the ceremony was a little boring, but I think that's something all graduations have in common

*Nobody freak out. It was Steve.

How To Survive: Barbecue In the Snow

2008-05-18T20:58:00.004-08:00

Sometimes, you have to have real food. No matter how creative you get with the stove and treasure hunts to the store, there comes a time when you have to have real meat. And it has to be grilled.

We are very lucky because we have a big tough Eskimo friend with grill. He likes to bring it over to our house and cook for us.

This is our tough Eskimo friend barbecuing hamburgers on Steve's birthday. Notice the snow in the background. (Also notice the adorable small child "helping" his dad.)

There are two difficulties when barbecuing in the snow: braving the cold outside long enough for the meat to cook and keeping the meat hot as it travels into the house.

Our tough Eskimo friend takes care of the first difficulty. He can stand outside forever as long as he is equipped with the above grilling necessities.

I usually tackle the second difficulty. As soon as BTE (Big Tough Eskimo) hollers that the meat is almost done, I run outside with a plate. He piles the meat on, and I buzz back into the house as fast as my short legs will carry me. Then I cover the meat with foil and put it in a heated over. During this flurry of activity Steve is usually...uh...um.... I'm not sure what Steve is doing. Probably playing his Nintendo DS or something and giving thanks that BTE is outside grilling in the cold instead of him. (This comment is in no way meant to imply that my strapping husband is in any way lazy. He works very hard, and I love him for it. Thank you.)

On our last night in Shishmaref, BTE decided to spoil us with some of his grilling delicacies (I thought about being offended at the fact that he was celebrating our departure, but I knew the food would be good enough that I wouldn't care. I'm kind of shallow that way.)

This is the barbecue sauce that BTE used to marinate the ribs. It is made of bottled barbecue sauce, lots of garlic, and probably some other stuff (sorry for the vague details, I was busy doing important stuff on my laptop while he was concocting it). He soaked the ribs in Sierra Mist as a tenderizer before marinating them in this sauce.

These are the ribs cooking. I'm salivating just remembering them. The soda pop tenderizer really did the trick. They were so easy to chew and yummy!!! I practically transformed into a feral animal gnawing the meat off the bones as fast as possible.

This is the chicken marinade. BTE made it by mixing ranch dressing, lots of garlic, bacon bits, and Sierra Mist. I'm not always a huge ranch dressing fan, but this stuff smelled a-freaking-mazing. I wanted to eat the marinade all by itself. Only my fear of salmonella from eating it with a soup spoon.

The chicken was major yum too. Steve came close to falling in love with it. That's funny because he usually thinks that chicken is a sissy food. He said it was Rodizio's good (Rodizio's is our favorite Brazilian grill in Salt Lake City. It's like an Alston family law that we have eat there every time we're in Utah).

My contribution to these dinners usally consists of running the meat back and forth to BTE and other mundane tasks like slicing pickles and asking Steve to set the table as soon as he finishes the next level of Mario World. In honor of Steve's birthday, I tried this home fry recipe from my favorite cooking blog: Amateur Gourmet.

I would recommend this recipe who wants to celebrate the real gem of Idaho and is okay with a little deep frying. (If you're interested, definitely check out Amateur Gourmet's directions. They will be way better than mine.)

I started by boiling the potatoes. When they were soft enough that my weak wrists could stab a knife through them, I took them out and cut them into chunks.

Then I fried them on one side with in oil and butter. After slightly browned, I flipped the chunks and added minced onion and an assortment of seasonings.

The finished potatoes were a huge hit. Everyone at the birthday party (BTE, BTE's oldest daughters, our coworker Coleenie, and our new friend visiting from the Netherlands) devoured them completely. This recipe instantly made its way into our list of favorites.

I usually leave one of our kitchen windows open when we (meaning: BTE) barbecue. That way I can hear when BTE needs something, and we can pass meat, foil, sauce, small firearms*, etc. through the window. Our open window becomes a magnet for any young (and not so young) children in the village. I've even had my high school students hanging inside my kitchen asking me questions and making small talk...

Our Arctic Barbecues break up the monotony of my crock pot and/or frying pan delicacies. I would encourage all readers to barbecue even if the obstacles include freezing temperatures and high meat prices. It's worth it.

*No members of the Alaska Alston family actually have any type of firearms in their possession.

Field Trip: Junior High Sliding Trip

2008-05-12T22:28:00.002-08:00

As the seventh grade advisor, I had the extreme pleasure of accompanying the seventh and eighth graders on the annual Junior High Sliding Trip.

We rode in sleds pulled by snow machines. I have never driven a snow machine, and I didn't want to learn with a bunch of junior highers behind me. I opted to be a passenger. We spent the trip huddling under tarps and blankets and making faces at each other (I like to set a really mature and refined example for my students).

I claimed the sled with the highest sides and kicked the boys out. Then I invited the girls to ride in the good sled with me. We sat on top of a very nice very thick reindeer skin. It is pictured in the above photograph.

The trail was marked with these three legged things. They're meant to show the way during bad weather.

This was my first time being outside of Shishmaref (other than flying out by plane). It was really fascinating to see different scenery. Even though that scenery was small hills covered in dirt and snow.

We traveled to a place about sixteen miles outside of Shishmaref. It took us about forty minutes to get there. The kids spent a lot of time seeing how much air they could catch with their little plastic sleds.

One of the bonuses of going sliding with a bunch of snow machines is that they kids got to be pulled up the hills. They would loop their sled ropes through the backs of the big sleds and hang on. This was the best part of the trip for me. Sometimes I would ride up to the top of the hill just to ride back down on the snow machine. It was fun.

Sometimes I rode on the back of the sleds and take pictures of the kids trying to hang on.

When the snow machine drivers drove fast (which they did a lot), kids fell off. This was my favorite series of action pictures. It started out as two classmates sharing a sled.

When they started to go fast, the boy in back grabbed his friend for protection.

As speed increased, it progressed into a full headlock...

before ending in a wipeout!

We dined on ham and cheese sandwiches out of plastic garbage bags.

We also had these yummy frozen peaches cups. They were so good that I ate three of them.

One of the highlights of the trip was when the shop teacher shot a pair of ptarmigan. Being as the ptarmigan is the Alaska state bird, we spent a moment of silence in their honor. The other chaperones on the trip said that ptarmigan is better than chicken. As soon as I can confirm that report, I will. :)

In case you ever wondered what ptarmigan feet look like, this is it. They're kind of fuzzy.

Lucky for me, I get to go on the next sliding trip. Also lucky for me, it won't happen until next year.

Con: Polar Bears

2008-05-07T21:59:00.004-08:00

There are a lot of things we don't have to worry about in Shishmaref: frequent houseguests, demanding social lives, long commutes to work, paying for car insurance, etc. In exchange, we have to worry about polar bears.

I hate polar bears. I hate every cartoon, stuffed animal, or greeting card that makes them look cute and cuddly. Polar bears are not cute and cuddly. They are scary.

Look at the claws on that thing. These claws were not designed for snuggling. They were designed for tearing open flesh.

We don't typically see polar bears Shishmaref. They generally come into the village when they're hungry. That means that they're looking for a meal. Polar bears are one of the few animals that will attack humans even when unprovoked.

The following pictures were not taken in Shishmaref, but the COULD HAVE BEEN! They were taken on the North Slope.

The man being chased works with our librarian's son. They work on the oil pipeline.

Polar bears are very persistent.

And tall.

Did I mention persistent?

I used to have bad dreams about polar bears. I was always trying to run away or protect kids and something was stopping me. It was always terrifying. My students told me that I think about polars too much. The dreams would stop when I stopped being so afraid.

They also asked me what I would do if I was walking with a little kid and a polar bear started chasing us. They wanted to know if I would push the little kid down and run away. In case anybody is wondering, under no circumstances would I ever use a small child as polar bear distraction. The only thing worse than being eaten by a polar bear, would be knowing I fed a small child to a polar bear.

Lucky for me, polar bears don't last long in Shishmaref. Every male over the age of eight is anxious to shoot one. They are quite the prize. When word gets out about a polar bear in town, everybody grabs their guns and starts riding around looking for it.

So please don't think I'm bloodthirsty or savage if I prefer to see polar bears like this...

or this...

or this. I just feel safer that way.

Celebrating An Anniversary Alaskan Style

2008-04-29T19:16:00.006-08:00

Step One: Plan ahead. You will not be able to purchase quality meat on demand in Shishmaref on the day of your anniversary, so it it imperative that you bring steaks with you from Seattle after Christmas.

Step Two: Find this biscuit recipe on Amateur Gourmet. Use it to get results like this:

(Steve told me that these biscuits were better than KFC's. As a full time lover of KFC biscuits, I took this to be a supreme compliment.)

Step Three: Find this steak recipe (also on Amateur Gourmet) and follow it to make some pretty good meat. Be so involved in the searing process that you are unable to take a picture. :(

Step Four: Eat the above food in addition to salad, cinnamon sugar carrots, and Guava juice.

Step Five: Take obligatory anniversary photo:

Third Anniversary

Blast from the past:

2nd Anniversary

1st Anniversary

Wedding!!!

Our favorite game to play with these pictures is "Spot the Weight Gain." You will notice a distinct difference in face shapes from the beginning of the pictures... You will also notice for the third anniversary picture that I failed to bother with makeup or even lip gloss. (You will also notice that Steve has a slightly stupefied look in each picture, although each year it is a slightly different stupefied look...)

The cutest part of the evening was reading the cards from Steve's third graders. I am going to share a few of my favorites. Be prepared for major cuteness...

"Sup Happy Cupul" or "What's Up Happy Couple." This gives you a good idea of slang and spelling in Shishmaref...

The same student offered us a nice compliment. It's good to know people around here think we are a nice couple, as opposed to a mean couple, an ugly couple, or a nightmarish couple.

This one cracks me up. Apparently, Steve's kiddos didn't make these cards of their own free will. This little guy gives us an insight into the instructions Steve gave his class. I love that he wrote it down. My favorite part: I don't care what you draw.

The kids are absolutely obsessed with my maiden name. They are fascinated by the idea that I used to have a different name. They call me Angie Busch all the time.

Some good advice for an anniversary evening.

Most teachers in Shishmaref go by their first names. Steve has his kids call him Mr. Alston. I think it's funny that this little girl addressed the card to "Mr. Alston and Angie," as opposed to "Steve and Angie, " or "Mr. and Mrs. Alston."

Here's my favorite:

Okay, Sarah. We will.

Field Trip: A Birthday Party

2008-04-29T15:59:00.003-08:00

Birthday parties are a regular part of life in Shishmaref. We were lucky enough to get invited to one last night, and you were lucky enough that I brought my camera.

Invitations to birthday parties come via phone calls. Because nobody has a house big enough to host all of their friends and relatives (which pretty much encompasses the entire island), guests are called in waves. As soon as some leave, more are called.

We got our invitation call at 9:15 pm. This was a pretty early phone call. We've been invited to birthday parties as late as 11:00 pm. This is probably due to the fact that we're not related to anybody, so we're never "first wave" guests.

After our phone call we put on our coats and walked to the house. This is an unusual Shishmaref house because it has two stories. Everything else about it is pretty typical of the homes in our village.

Most walls are covered in family pictures. There are lots of pictures of the family's children and grandparents.

Cash is the typical gift at birthday parties. Once in a while people bring presents, but most just bring bills. Most birthday kids have a money cup. You walk in and put your money in a cup. This birthday boy was holding his loot in his hand (He was not very cooperative about posing with his cash).

If the birthday child is little, Steve and I usually bring a few dollars. Older kids get five dollars. If we know the family really well or are especially fond of the birthday child, we will give up to twenty dollars (for the record: I am outrageously more generous than Steve).

(The birthday boy obviously had no problem posing with his tongue.)

Food is a central part of birthday parties. A typical spread includes birthday cake (called "Nome cake," it's flown in from Nome for about $120), berries, homemade donuts, pies, and jell-o (always, always, always, always, always jell-o).

People in Shishmaref love Nome cake because they only get it at birthday parties (it tastes just like a Costco cake). This little guy loved it so much that he was willing to lick the crumbs off of his face!

These are the berries. They grow locally. Women and children pick them during the summer and freeze them to eat during the winter. The orangish berries are salmon berries. The purple ones are blueberries (but they're not like the blueberries in the Lower 48). The really dark round ones are blackberries (again not like the ones in the Lower 48). Daph also told me that there are cranberries (of the Alaskan variety, not the Thanksgiving-Ocean-Spray variety) mixed in. Berries are my favorite birthday party food. I usually eat lots of them.

I also look forward to the donuts. Here they are in all of their deep fried goodness! I was very proud of myself for maintaining my self control and only heating one half of a donut (my strapping husband ate the other half).

Blueberry pies are pretty popular. They are usually made with canned blueberries, not the same kind of blueberries pictured in the previous picture of a bowl of berries.

Birthday parties are also a good time for admiring babies. This birthday party had two very cute babies to admire, and I got to hold both of them. This baby belongs to a former student. I heart him because before he was born, his mom would come over to our house, and we would order baby clothes online. Every time I talked, his mom would feel him move!!! I like to think it was because he couldn't wait to meet me.

This is the other precious baby. His mom is the preschool teacher. She always tries to get me to play basketball. (Have you ever seen babies with bigger cheeks?)

The babies were even introduced to each other during the party! And I was a witness!

Steve didn't pay very much attention to the babies. He spent the evening riling up all of the other kids and provoking them to be really loud by tickling them, wrestling with them, etc. (Sometimes I am amazed that we continue to get invited to birthday parties. It seems like this type of behavior would have blacklisted us by now, but we've been in this home several times).

I tried to convince Steve to let me throw him a Shishmaref style birthday party, but he won't let me. My birthday is in the summer, and we're always downstates. When we have kids, I am totally going to bake up a storm and invite everybody over. It will be fun.

How To Survive: Buy Whatever the Store Has

2008-04-26T20:32:00.003-08:00

We are lucky to have two stores in Shishmaref. Their selection is amazing compared to the stores in other villages we've visited. However, their inventory isn't exactly reliable. When we lived in Seattle, I would go to the store to buy, say, milk. I would drive to the store, walk in, pick up the milk, and go home satisfied.

In Shishmaref you can't go to the store expecting anything. They may or may not have it. They may also have something completely unexpected. I've learned to just wander over to the store every once in a while just to scope things out. I've also learned to buy whatever they have- no matter what it cost. Today I went to the store to get something to drink, and it ended up being one of the best shopping days EVER.

This is what I came home with. You will notice that my haul includes oranges, an onion, a green pepper, YELLOW peppers (I have never seen yellow peppers here), potatoes, grapefruit juice, and a gigantic bag of lettuce, spinach, and greens. (The pop was a gift for Steve who is married to someone who thinks that pop is unhealthy. I also knew he wasn't going to get all jazzed over some vegetables.)

I was especially excited about the large bag of salad fixings (which is why I am tenderly embracing it). When I carried the bag to the cash register, the employees had no idea how much to charge me. It turns out that the bag arrived in a big mis-shipment (which explains why so many fresh things were at the store at the same time). After searching the inventory lists, they decided to charge me $8.85! I was so totally amazed. That it about the same amount I pay for a head of iceberg lettuce at the store normally.

The best part was when they rang up the total. Only $41.42! That may sound like a lot, and I would have once thought the same thing. But, it is an absolute bargain for Shishmaref shopping.

We will be eating lots of salad over the next week, but that's okay! I am willing to completely adapt my entire eating schedule any time the store has produce.