a hope of spring, and how nature tells the weather

When I first visited Alaska, I heard the tale that winter's arrival can be predicted based on when the topmost flower on a fireweed stock blooms. I never paid attention to how true that was, but its a fun tale to tell visitors as they admire the unique purple wildflower.

Another tale I just heard this week is the relationship of pussywillow's growth to the end of overnight freezing. When it grows to about an inch long, it shouldn't freeze anymore. Or so goes the tale.

It amazed me how fast everything has melted and dried up. We went from having a lake in the middle of the runway, and mud a foot deep, to having a solid runway that should be ready to use by next week. The band of water around the lake is several feet wide, growing every day. And there is a big spot of open water in the channel between the lake and the bay.

Can't wait for summer!

Spring conference

Last weekend, my sleepy winter village exploded. In addition to perfect spring weather, brothers and sisters from neighboring villages loaded up for a weekend of encouragement and refreshment. Sessions started Friday night, and ended Sunday morning with communion at Church.

Each session started with a few songs before the kids left for their program. The music continued, with testimonies interspersed, for a few hours. Then the last half hour, a preacher from Anchorage spoke. The music was somewhat foreign to me-- old hymns with a country-western twang to them, being led by a Native gentleman. At least everyone else was loving it. It was cool to hear testimonies from a huge variety of people. From young missionary couples sharing their struggles, to old natives telling their fishing stories, I was encouraged by the community of believers surrounding me.

Saturday morning, I helped in the nursery. A friend from Soldotna asked if I would help, to give the mothers an entire weekend off. My friend, in all of her wisdom and experience raising 4 boys, decided we should take the morning session on Saturday. BOY was she right! The kids weren't cranky cause it was past their bedtime, and there were less of them total. Of course we had our cry-ers, our trouble makers, and our escape artitsts. I had one little boy fall asleep in my arms for an hour or two. All in all, it was enjoyable to hang out with the little kids.

The session before dinner was shorter, less attended, and broke off into prayer groups toward the end. I was in a group with ladies from several different villages. We shared needs in our lives. After listening to some of the other ladies stories, I realize how small my problems are. One lady shared about the hopeless situation in her village with few jobs, and unemployment driving villagers to drinking. Another shared her struggles to forgive men that abused her in her past, and how she is opening her home to young girls who have faced the same abuse. Of the entire weekend, this prayer time had the biggest impact on me. I realized my need to not only pray for the villages in this region, but I need to find a way to visit and encourage my sisters in Christ that don't necessarily have good Christian friends to hang out with.

The entire weekend, I spent time with a really awesome friend from the area. I met her three years ago when I came out here for the first time. We instantly clicked, and have kept in touch over the years online. Its really awesome to get to hang out with her every once in a while when she comes through, and this weekend was no exception.

The weekend was so much fun, I didn't want to go to work Monday!

not a how-to formula

6 months.

I realized at work today that I have been employed as a mechanic for 6 months. When I was in school, that was longer than a semester. Its twice as long as I was in Kenya, and half the amount of time I lived in Anchorage. I worked at the kitchen store in Anchorage for 6 months. All those things seemed to be significant chunks of my life. But when I compare it with the quick breath that has been my time here, it seems so short.

Of course, the majority of my time is spent working in the hangar. The first three months we were working on our major overhaul project: the navajo. After it went on the flight line, we slowly worked through some annuals, as well as events on our active fleet. Even slower than the pace of winter maintenance is my learning curve. Weeks went by where I would complete routine service items, simply because that is all I felt confident doing. Then I would decide to branch out into more interesting projects, and feel like I was wasting everyone else's time asking them questions. But slowly, ever so slowly, I have started to feel like I know what I am doing. Not that I am an expert, but a bit of confidence is dawning. It took 6 months. I am sure in another 6 months I will look back on this point and see how much more I understand. It's a process, and it comes to everyone in different amounts of time.

I still make lots of mistakes, and I am sure there are plenty more for me to make. I'm terribly slow. I drop tools all the time (especially when someone warns me against dropping them in that particular location). You should see the mess I make whenever I try to change the oil.

I am looking forward to what the next 6 months holds.

the on-demand lifestyle

A week ago, I was washing dishes and just chilling at home. As there are few dishwashers out here, its a process done by hand. The phone rang, which isn't entirely usual. I washed the soap off my hands and reached for the phone.

"Hey, Liz? If you hurry, you can fly down to Nondolton and back with Glen," the dispatcher told me.
"Uh, sounds good!" I respond. I turn off the water, grab my headset, and head out the door.

We head to the other runway and help unload the three passengers staying here, fuel up, and load up. We have one passenger to drop off, as well as a bunch of groceries for 3 or so different people. We will also be switching from the Bonanza to the 207. We leave a plane stationed there with our pilot who lives there.

When we get close (about 5 minutes after taking off) Glen calls on the local frequency, indicating landing time, groceries, and a passenger.

As we fly close to the airport environment, I can see the ripples on the water, indicating a strong northwind. I feel it too. Usually we land straight in at Nondolton, but the sun is low on the horizon, so a straight in landing would mean we wouldn't be able to see a thing. So we circle around and land back toward the east. When we land, several people are waiting for their groceries, as well as the pilot with wing covers for the bonanza.

Unloading was a fairly painless process, as we piled groceries in seperate piles. Everything going to Nondolton has bright yellow stickers on it with their names scribbled on in sharpie. After we got all the groceries off, we helped cover the plane and load up in the 207.

I crawled in the left seat, and Glen watched from the right. Take off was a little squirrely with a strong, slightly gusty left crosswind. He didn't have a headset on, so he shouted instructions into my right ear, and I tried to make radio calls and listen to the world outside the airplane in my left ear.

We arrived back in PA, tied the airplane to whatever we could, and headed home. All in all, the episode took about an hour, and I logged .2 in my logbook. While its not a lot of time in the grand scheme of things, I didn't have to pay for that flight time. I am looking forward to more adventures of the same nature.