Ride the Rails in Sparkling Snow October 25, 2008

This has been a more active weekend for Niilo and Joan: A morning visit by Etuk and Nana then a zero-degree but sparkling, sunny, snowy ride on the Tanana Valley Railroad steam Engine No. 1 (built in 1899), followed by cookies and cider in the railroad museum on Saturday; then Max and Rob sharing breakfast, Potluck Sunday at Friends Meeting (Quakers) for Niilo and Heather, and a movie for Joan and Alex.  

Niilo laughed when the little engine had trouble with a frozen brake on an uphill grade, not at all distressed by the unplanned stop.

We have discussed elections lots, and Joan has marked her sample ballot;  Niilo hasn’t figured out Proposition A nor the retention of judges, but he is voting too.

Heather

One reply

  1. I too laughed as I read of Niilo not being distressed by the unplanned stop. The description gave me an image of Niilo, as from an old newspaper headline – hand set type, struggling editor working late, perhaps at that little newspaper in the old town site at Chena – and the editor or pressman holding up the proof sheet and smiling as it proclaims

    Niilo Not Distressed By
    Unplanned Stop On Uphill Grade!

    These are the feelings many of us have these days, of being on the uphill grade. Here in our neighborhood we have just completed a fundraiser for a family overwhelmed by medical bills. This is medicine in America. One of the unplanned stops. The politics of profit has grated hard lately. The good part of course is the community comes together to help, and, I think in time we will build to a better tomorrow. It is important to keep faith. Some times all I can do is force resignation. Lucky is the man who can laugh at the bumps along the road.

    Clouds covered
    Last light
    And wind
    Roared, bending
    Pine
    Juniper and Aspen

    Tracks faded
    Notebook pages fluttered
    Sound, motion
    Cold
    Became stronger than vision

    And I
    Reversed course
    Feeling more than seeing
    Following footsteps
    That were
    Not entirely mine
    But
    A concession to the night

    Love to all… john culbertson

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