The Breakup

April 23, 2010

You may read the title and immediately think of a lost lover and a sad or perhaps awkward time. Or you may call to mind a predictable, cheesy movie starring Jennifer Aniston. Here in Alaska, the word simply refers to the time of year when the snow and ice is breaking up after 8 months of ground cover. The days are getting longer and longer, last night it was still mostly bright at 10:30 pm. The temperature is a comfortable 50 degrees. The snow has melted anywhere that isn’t shaded leaving behind a muddy mess and 8 months worth of trash and manure. This isn’t the prettiest time of the year here, but there is a sense of change in the air. Everyday the trees threaten to bud with green. New walking paths emerge from the snow. I realized there is a small creek behind the house with a bridge that 2 weeks earlier I had no idea existed. The garden beds at my school have thawed considerably. Soon I will be able to dig in the earth. After a 5 month hiatus, I am ready to begin some outdoor, physical labor.

At the farm you can sense the coming of spring. The greenhouse is full of seedlings. The driveway is no longer ice but mud. The garden beds are exposing themselves to the world. The sheep have full bellies, promising the delivery of lambs soon. This past week at the farm, Adie and Elsa put together a poetry competition. Tom and Susan home school the girls. One project of theirs is a magazine they put together called the World Weekly. Everyone at the farm submitted at least one poem. It was a creative endeavor and entertaining to read all the poems. Below are a few of them.

Some Haikus

by Katie spring
walking in mud and
hopping farmyard fences, the
earth catches each step

By Edge Fuentes
My Bed is a pile
Where I rest my tired paws
And dream of running

A rhyme by Tom Zimmer
Ah, the wonderful seasonal thing
The sounds that reach your ear go zing
Oily smell
Blade from hell
The chainsaw sure is a sign of spring


A dog’s tail tale By Meredith

What if I had a dog’s tail…
Would I hold it high,
Or would I hold it low?
Would it be bushy,
With long flowing hair
Or would it be skinny,
And shaped like a stick?
If I had a dog’s tail,
I would wag it when I was happy,
And drag it when I was sad.
And when I see the cute boy at school,
He would know I like him
Because my tail would tell him so.


Slack line By Meredith

The world is a slack line
It can be hard to find your balance,
The first steps are like taking a leap,
you have to go for it, completely,
or you will never stand up.
Sometimes you wobble,
and at some point you will certainly fall.
But you have to be brave,
and trust your feet.
Of course there are times,
when you need a shoulder to lean on,
or perhaps a stick.
But, oh those joyous days,
when you can walk alone.
Your feet wildly grip,
your arms swing one way,
then the other.
Finally a smile drifts to your face
as you make real what was once impossible.




This evening Susan and Tom hosted a Sheep and Wool workshop at the farm. We looked at their hoofs, feet and teeth. Then we watched Tom shear the ram. In about 20 minutes, Tom had taken off 3.5 pounds of Kjel’s wool. Afterward Susan showed us how to determine quality, wash and store the wool and finally spin it into yarn. It is really interesting to see the steps from sheep to yarn to scarf. Knitting is a common hobby in Alaska. Being house bound for more than half the year encourages craft making and other creative indoor activities. I have a crocheting date next week with Anne who works at Calypso. I am looking forward to learning to make all kinds of things with yarn. Being exposed to the entire wool process inspires me to practice the craft.



Here is a series of pictures of Kjel, before and after shearing.












Another Friday ritual at the farm is the bread bake. The folks at Calypso built a wood-fire brick oven. One person stokes the fire midday. By late afternoon the oven is a toasty 600 degrees. We clear out the ash and the wood and then start bringing out the loaves. Everyone is welcome to make and bring as many loaves as he or she wants. Last week we baked 36 loaves, which is impressive since there are only 10 or so people who prepared them. It has been really fun. People get experimental with the types of bread. Of course the bake always ends with enjoying fresh bread dipped in olive oil. Mmm…a fantastic way to bring in the weekend.