I am heading backwards in this narrative. I got off the plane in Bethel, then went to get my luggage, as did all the others who got off the plane. Kellie Umphrey, who is the principal of the M.E. School, was kind enough to pick me up and give me a ride to where I am now. It took a long time for my luggage to appear on the carousel – giving Kellie and me time to talk a bit. She says that every 90 days or so she and her husband Mark fly to Anchorage and pick up and bring back groceries. This is because groceries here are so expensive.
I will see her in a few days, and when I do, I will ask her if she worries about the future and not being able to get groceries. It does seem to me to be a possibly unsustainable place to live. And there is that river, which might overflow its banks.
The flight was blessedly uneventful.
I had a long wait for the plane but found things to do, one of which was panic because I thought I lost my boarding pass. Oh Oh. I also had this feeling that I was in the wrong boarding area. The listed flight was one going to Hawaill Oh Oh again. I went and checked the departure sign and noted that I was scheduled to leave from Gate C-8.
So I gathered up most of my belongings and high tailed it down the concourse. I was suffering from residual nervousness, being unable to find my pass and all. Well, I was moving at a fast pace, and this woman comes up behind me and says, “you forgot a few things.” She then handed me my hat, an orange, and a glove and then said, “you look like a woman who carries oranges in her pocket.” I liked her for saying this and wished that we could have talked further. But then she took off. Only later did I realize that she could mean that I seemed hopelessly adrift, perhaps maybe homeless.
The ride to the airport with Pete was also uneventful.
I spent the morning getting the former banquet room of the historic Eagle Hotel in order. I sorted yesterday’s books and boxed up the books that I’ll be taking to the Anchorage conference. I was joined by Susan, who attempted to help me in making sense of last night’s meeting.
The day began, before the sun was up, with my tending to the horses. Tyra’s poop was a little splatty, but not yet a cause for concern.
Next: 25. 1/25/25: The Story Continues |