Friday, June 26, 2009

Don't stop 'til you get enough

I'm ambivalent about the recent celebrity deaths. I will most likely remember where I was when heard the news that MJ died: at work, eating salad for lunch. Fern, the winery's gardener, (no shit, the gardener's name is Fern) came over and said 'I just got text from my daughter; Michael Jackson is dead!'
My reaction? 'Huh. Is there anymore salad inside?'
MJ kind of trumps my news I suppose but I'll tell you anyway.
We'll be leaving our post at Libby's at the beginning of October and moving about a mile down the road. We're renting a cabin (back to no water, no!) and some land from Jason and Kelly Cameron who own Katchemak Kennels. We'll be joining their fledgling winter tour operation. They give week-long dog sled tours into the Caribou Hills. Also, we'll be mixing up some of our dogs so that I will have a potentially stronger race team and they will have more tour dogs to choose from. If it all works out after one season, Richard and I will have a rent-to-own option on the land. If it doesn't work out, Rich and I will move on and cut our losses. Don't get me wrong, Libby's place is amazing and we are still close enough to help her out, but really, she needs someone who is focused on her. And Rich and I have our own agenda with our own dogs, racing and work. We're in the process now of drafting up a contract with Jason and Kelly so we are all clear on the goals and expectations of this Spitfire/Katchemak fusion. Rich and I will still maintain Spitfire Kennels and our sponsors and other finances will remain separate, so if you're sponsoring me, you are indeed sponsoring me. I'm excited for the winter and now that we're losing daylight again, the cold, snowy weather is just around the corner. Of course, the weather here is very different from Fairbanks. It's much warmer in the winter (no more 40 below!) and they get much, much more snow here. I hope it all works out, but Rich and I are keeping our options open just in case and we'll end up wherever that clever north wind blows us.

Tuesday, June 23, 2009

Being grown isn't half as fun as growing up

I'm starting to wonder which is growing faster: the fireweed or the puppies. See for yourself.

Sunday, June 21, 2009

We march to the beat of an indifferent drum

I sometimes wonder when I will grow out of my clumsiness. I will be 32 in less than a month and I still trip and fall and spill like I was a toddler. I made up some batches of Barolo wine the other day at work and I was moving the five-gallon glass carboys onto the shelf so they could have a nice quiet place to ferment when the worst happened. I heard the dreaded 'clink' of glass on glass and within seconds I was up to my ankles in thick, red wine. It seeped out onto the winery floor, into the cellar...everywhere...
I screamed 'HOLY SHIT!!' and everyone came running back to see the red mess all over the place. It took several hours to clean it all up. Dorothy and Bill weren't mad because it was an accident, but the rest of the day's chores got put on hold while the clean-up ensued. Oy.
The dogs are good and the pups are huge. We're planning some fun adventures for the summer, but are looking for someone to dogsit. Work is getting busy and I've been meeting some really cool people, but other than that nothing else is new.
Photos to come.

Wednesday, June 10, 2009

Homer: a quaint drinking town with a fishing problem

Exciting things are happening for Spitfire Kennels and we can't wait for winter! Details aren't finalized yet, so I'll hold off on the specifics, but stay tuned!
Meanwhile, back at the ranch, the puppies are wrestling like crazy and it's hot, hot, hot here on the hill. Rich and I have started playing tennis after work, but other than that not much is new. We're working hard on keeping the dogs happy during these lazy (for them, not us) summer days, but they're still a little bored. Capiche, our resident bowl-tipper, collar-slipper, fence-climber, hole-digger, house-tipper has dug herself a three-foot-deep trench around her house. We've been letting her loose and she comes in the house overnight, but she's smart (sometimes scarily so) and is bored when she's in the dogyard. Hopefully we'll rectify that situation soon, but again, no details yet.
Here are some photos and video of the last few days. Rich and I walked around the small boat harbour yesterday on our day off. I love watching the hustle and bustle of the port.

Yee haw!

The yellow lab was really, really hoping for a scrap or two.

Oh la la.


Yes I am.

Could it be? The Time Bandit? Eeeeekkkkk! I felt like a stalker and I haven't even seen the show!

mmm, not really...anymore...

Old boat in the harbour.


Wednesday, June 03, 2009

Start with straight shots and then pop bottles

It's been warm here the last couple of days. Today is down-right hot. Yesterday Rich and I rototilled the dog yard. I used to think that scooping poop in the rain with a hangover was the worst job ever, but a new task has taken that title. Rich did most of the grunt work as the huge beast of a machine would send me flailing when I tried to use it, so I followed along, raking in holes, helping him lift when the machine got stuck, and moving dogs and houses out of his way. The dog yard looked great when all was said and done; level and soft. That lasted about an hour. It still looks better than it did, but the dogs have dug their bear traps once again and padded down their spots. I'm off again today and have been planting flowers and vegetables in my deck garden, cleaning out water cans and refilling them and waiting for a couple of visitors who are here in Homer and really wanted to see real sled dogs and puppies. I like showing off my dogs. And my life. I'm proud of what I have and what I do, even though it usually results in me smelling like dog poo. Here are some random shots of the view from our cabin and a video of the pups.

Roy woke me up the other morning around 4 to go pee and Rich and I witnessed a really great sunrise.

Roy in a ditch. For some reason he likes this spot and if he's not near it, he'll dig his own little trench to sleep in.