This is it. The first day of spring. Twelve hours of daylight and twelve hours of darkness. Excellent weather today, warm, sunshine, no breeze. We still have snow but there is no snow in town. And where was I? I spent most of my day in the former banquet room of the historic Eagle Hotel. I did distribute books, but I did not get out and walk around. I had my nose to the grindstone because I have just a few days to get ready to go to Nome.

I met up with my curriculum friend Deb White in town this morning, and she said that we are going to need to rent a car when we are in Nome. I am going with Pam #1 and Pam #2. I am the one doing the planning. The two Pams are going to be vacationing. I will do a side trip to Elim, which is mile spelled backwards, next Thursday.

Full shelves

I keep thinking that it will be warm there, like it is here, but it won’t be. Nome is more northerly and on the coast.

The Iditarod is now over, and so the place will not have many tourists on hand. A good thing. I wonder how they provide lodging for everyone. It’s called the City of Nome, but it is really just a large village.

Disturbing news today and an update just now. Susan, a volunteer, emailed this morning and said that her husband is in ICU. Tonight she said that his numbers are very low, too low, so he is not going to make it. I do not know what has brought about low numbers, but according to Susan, he’s got at most three days left.

I can imagine that she’s in state of shock about this. If this were me, and this had happened to Pete, I would not know what to do. Sure, there would be a few people around for a few days, and enough food on hand to feed an army. But then the novelty wears off and people go back to doing what it is they do. Then you are left with a refrigerator full of food and a very empty house. You might have a son who snarfs down the food – then where will you be?

Me, I suspect that I’d also be given a hand getting hay, watering, tending to the garden – at most for a season. Then I’d be on my own. I’d most likely move, heading south with the horses and another person who’d drive the trailer. Not a good thought. It is best to be optimistic and upbeat and hope for the best.

Hoping for the best is difficult for me because I don’t believe in hope. Or at least I try not to.

I pause. I am running out of steam. I am drifting off. Okay, what about tomorrow? Well, it’s going to be the same old same old, with me shlepping books ad infinitum.

Next: 80. 3/22/25: Fretting about the Unforeseen