John the Baptist and Brood of Vipers
It is a rainy, chilly morning in Pensacola.
Even as I write those words, I smile. Our grandson inherited my cold genes through his father. By cold genes, I mean we are more comfortable being cool than hot. We sleep cool. We need less clothing to stay warm. He told his Baba, AdventureMan, that “chilly is not cold” because he didn’t want to wear long pants, he prefers shorts.
(There are a lot of images of John the Baptist, but this one made me grin; he looks a little Rastafarian, and I hadn’t thought of him as so long haired and skinny, but he was living in the wilderness and eating locusts and honey . . . )
I can still feel the air grow still as the British Ambassador to Kuwait read a very odd scripture about John the Baptist. It was odd because while it talked about John, it was unfamiliar to me. At the end, he said “A reading from the holy Qu’ran” and I was astonished for two reasons. First, I didn’t know that the Muslims recognized John the Baptist (they do, he is called Yahya Yahanna, and they have a beautiful tomb to him in the Ummayad Mosque in Damascus, Syria, where many visit and pray) and second, I didn’t know I belonged to a church that would allow the Qu’ran to be read as Holy Scripture.
Life is long, and full of surprises. I love it. I think the ability to be surprised, and to ponder those quick flickers of perspective keeps us young in heart, and young in spirit.
Today, John speaks to us, each and every one. The true path is coming, the word of God embodied in a human being, born a tiny baby, a human baby, God come down into flesh. (My Muslim friends are quivering with fear at this point, waiting for me to be struck down for such blasphemy. They don’t believe Jesus was the son of God, but that he was a messenger, like Mohammed. They also believe Jesus will be the judge at the end of times.)
Life among the Moslems. Bible study with the Baptist. My very Mormon friends. My own very Episcopalian faith. All these influences – and my Alaskan heritage – mashed together with smatterings of others, have gone into making me a very odd sort of Christian.
I’m OK with that.
Luke 3:1-9
3 In the fifteenth year of the reign of Emperor Tiberius, when Pontius Pilate was governor of Judea, and Herod was ruler* of Galilee, and his brother Philip ruler* of the region of Ituraea and Trachonitis, and Lysanias ruler* of Abilene, 2during the high-priesthood of Annas and Caiaphas, the word of God came to John son of Zechariah in the wilderness. 3He went into all the region around the Jordan, proclaiming a baptism of repentance for the forgiveness of sins, 4 as it is written in the book of the words of the prophet Isaiah,
‘The voice of one crying out in the wilderness:
“Prepare the way of the Lord,
make his paths straight.
5 Every valley shall be filled,
and every mountain and hill shall be made low,
and the crooked shall be made straight,
and the rough ways made smooth;
6 and all flesh shall see the salvation of God.” ’
7 John said to the crowds that came out to be baptized by him, ‘You brood of vipers! Who warned you to flee from the wrath to come? 8 Bear fruits worthy of repentance. Do not begin to say to yourselves, “We have Abraham as our ancestor”; for I tell you, God is able from these stones to raise up children to Abraham. 9 Even now the axe is lying at the root of the trees; every tree therefore that does not bear good fruit is cut down and thrown into the fire.’
Holly Beach and Hackberry, Louisiana
AdventureMan knows how to thrill my heart, and just down the road, we find Holly Beach.
“Do you want to walk on the beach?” he asks slyly. He knows the answer to that question will always be “YES!!”
Holly Beach is not Pensacola Beach. I don’t see a single restaurant, not a single hotel. I don’t see sugar white sand. The sand here is golden grey, and the beach is littered – with SEASHELLS! So many wonderful seashells! I could stay here for a long time!
LOL, it’s also an Alaska kind of beach!
On our way into Lake Charles, we make a stop at Brown’s Market, in Hackberry, Louisiana, for a list of items, and they had every item on our list. It is a great little stop, and has clean restrooms, too 🙂
Inequality: No Respect For Our First Nation Citizens (Blog Action Day)
I grew up in a small town, Juneau, Alaska, and not even in the main town, but on Douglas Island, across the Gastineau Channel from Juneau. My neighbors were fishermen, hunters, pilots, entrepreneurs and hard-working people struggling to make a living.
It was an upside down world. In most places, those who live there the longest are the leaders of society. In Southeast Alaska, those who lived there the longest were at the bottom of the heap, the Native Americans, the Tlingit, Haida and Tsimshian. I went to school with them. Yes, the boys carried knives. No, they were not dirty, and none of my little friends in elementary school were drunks. We were kids, we played together, we were all in the same classes all through elementary school – it was a small school.
Many of them did have family problems. There were problems of alcoholism, unemployment, domestic violence and hunger. They weren’t the only ones. The big problem was no respect. Although there were a few pieces of Native Art in the city museum, Native culture and Native craft were given little value. The Native way of life, living off the land, hunting and fishing, had greatly diminished as lands were apportioned off and hunting and fishing activities regulated.
In 1971 a huge lawsuit was settled and the Alaska Native Claims Settlement Act provided some restoration for the damaged peoples. Alaska Natives now have regional corporations to administer and grow funds to support the culture, to provide education for the children, to provide health clinics and hospitals. SEALASKA began to organize a biennial Celebration, a gathering of all the Alaska natives to share their stories, to celebrate their culture, to dance and to transmit culture to their children. It’s a great opportunity for people you might see every day in their western life to remember where they come from and to be proud of who they are. This Celebration is held every two years and includes Alaska Natives from all over Alaska who want to participate. It is a very inclusive Celebration. The next Celebration will be June 8 – 11, in 2016. You can read a little more about Celebration 2014 here.
They learn the legends of their clans – the Eagles, The Ravens, the Beavers, the Bears and a number of other clans. They spend the time between celebrations stitching together elaborate costumes for their parade and dance exhibitions, hollowing out canoes from trees, making elaborate hats and masks.
We first learned of the Celebration gathering in 2012, when we already had tickets to go back to Zambia at the exact time the Celebration was taking place, but my sweet husband promised we could go back for the 2014 Celebration. As we researched, we discovered just how much of Alaska we wanted to see, and did a reconnaissance trip in 2013. We loved our time there, and we were delighted to be able to return this last year for Celebration 2014.
It was one of the most thrilling moments of my life, to see the gathering, to see the old women cry as canoes came into sight full of young Alaskan natives, and say “I never thought I would see this again in my life”, to watch the exhilaration of the dancers, to feel the energy of the parade and especially – to see the children. To see the pride in marching, in dancing, to see the joy in being able to express who they are and to share that with others. I was moved beyond my ability to express in words; it was a feeling that in one small way, a train of events that had gone very off track had moved incrementally back in the right direction.
Here are some photos from the joyous Celebration of 2014:
Creeping Towards September
This is the hottest part of the summer. You’d think in late August things would start cooling down a little, but no, we hit a record high last week and we haven’t had a good rain for weeks.
September is worse. When I think September, I think back to school, sweaters and wool skirts. Even in Seattle, it is too warm in September for sweaters and wool skirts; the afternoons can get really warm in September. In Pensacola, it’s just mostly a continuation of an endless August, a waiting for October. The only hint of winter is a slight cooling of night time temperatures.
I dream of Alaska, of Montana, and North Dakota, I dream of cool nights sleeping with an open window, I dream of featherbeds and brisk walks on chilly mornings . . .
Putting Pensacola Weather in Perspective
I know, I know, you all are tired of hearing me gripe and groan about heat and humidity. I just had a humbling experience. I finished my Lectionary Readings and went to Weather Underground to see how the weather is shaping up for today and caught a glimpse of Kuwait weather. I have it marked as a favorite so I can see how my friends there are doing.
113°F in Kuwait City.
At the other extreme is my old hometown, Juneau, Alaska. This is the forecast for today, and the next week or so:
You know, today it’s supposed to be less than 90°F in Pensacola, and the humidity feels lighter today – so far. We are expecting a thunderstorm, and yesterday, the temperature dropped ten 15 degrees at noon as a thunderstorm rolled in – how cool is that? We have those beautiful white sand beaches and a surf as warm as bathwater – 84°F – Pensacola in the heat of August is looking a lot better 🙂
“Perfect!” The Bridge Restaurant in Anchorage
Language changes, and usage changes, and one of the differences I heard on this trip was an increasing use of the word “Perfect!”
We had eaten at Mooses Tooth (see below) and we wanted to change up the pace for our last night in Anchorage, finishing with really really good seafood in Anchorage. We decided on The Bridge, and we decided to make reservations.
“I’d like a reservation for two at seven o-clock” I said and the lady taking the reservation said “Perfect!”
She asked our name and I told her and she said “Perfect!”
Our name is perfect? That we gave her our name is perfect? That she wrote it down perfectly?
I told her we would see her at seven and she said . . . well, you can guess what she said:
“PERFECT!”
It took us a missed exit and some driving around to actually find The Bridge, and oh, what fun. It is in the downtown most part of downtown Anchorage, on the banks of the river, spanning the river.
There are a lot of parking lots with limited parking, limited to like two hours because they have so many people wanting to fish in this river. At seven at night, this river was PACKED. The river was packed with people, fishing! They had gorgeous weather, and the fish were biting.
This is the kitchen at The Bridge:
And this is a view of a part of the interior. There are a variety of seating areas; this area was for those who had reservations. There was seating on a patio, but this is a very brightly lit place on a hot, sunshiney day, and I am glad to be inside, out of the hot sun, hot sun at seven at night – it’s the equinox.
We loved this restaurant, and while we had many wonderful experiences on this trip, this would be one of my first choices going back. It’s a little off the beaten trail, (although we saw two tables of eight reserved for Orvis fisherpeople) and the people who worked there seemed to really love working there. At least half of the people were from Anchorage.
We ordered the Smoked Salmon Pate, not realizing we would also get more pate with our bread. The Bridge is like that; it gives you more than you expect. Sorry for the high contrast photos; there is a lot of bright sun I am working with here.
AdventureMan also ordered crab legs, not realizing they came on the appetizer buffet you get with the full meal, which we ordered. We ordered too much food for our last night in Anchorage, when it didn’t make sense to take food back with us.
The Bridge has a fabulous appetizer buffet.
For his main course, AdventureMan had the grilled halibut, which he says was the best on his entire trip:
And I could not resist ordering The Bridge’s Alaska Cioppino – I am a sucker for Cioppino, and this was exquisite.
They also had rhubarb crisp as a dessert, but I could not even think about eating another bite. Next time I hit The Bridge, I will start with the Rhubarb Crisp 🙂
The Bridge is only open for the summer season. It is a total WOW.
It was (you guessed it!) “PERFECT!”
Miscellaneous Around Anchorage
Anchorage bumper sticker:
View from our hotel room:
Live aquatic transportation:
Moose crossing signs are everywhere; hitting a moose is a lot like hitting a camel, not good for your car and not good for the moose:
We didn’t expect much from the Golden Palace on Tudor, near our hotel, and we were delighted at the quality of the meal. It was wonderful and spicy, and the flavors shone!
Moose’s Tooth in Anchorage, Alaska
“Well the wait time is only 20 minutes right now, but it’s going to get a lot worse” the person on the telephone at Moose’s Tooth told me when I called to ask if they take reservations (they don’t). It was only 5:00 pm, and only a Thursday night. I can’t imagine what a Friday night must look like.
We were lucky, we got a parking place. There were already crowds of people waiting. It’s good to be two; Moose’s Tooth has some small 2 person booths, so we only waited about 20 minutes.
Moose’s Tooth is crowded inside, too. There is a bar area and a dining area, and while we were there, we saw every table taken. Many were groups, after work groups, birthday groups – and we were amazed at how efficiently everything was handled. It could have been chaos, but it wasn’t.
Love the Moose’s Tooth plates:
In all our days in Alaska, this was the first time I had seen rhubarb on the menu. This is rhubarb crisp, and it was delicious. Rhubarb is an acquired taste, for many it is too tart, or you have to add too much sugar to make it palatable. I grew up eating rhubarb; it was one of the earliest crops in our garden, so I like it just fine.
Yes, I started with dessert. It was a priority 🙂
AdventureMan’s salad:
My main course was Shrimp Louis, a west-coast specialty, I never see it anywhere else. It is only on the Moose’s Tooth menu seasonally, and I was delighted to see it!
AdventureMan had a pizza, which he said was really, really good.
Get there early! Moose’s Tooth is really a fun place, very active, nice atmosphere, lots of locals and great food.
Springhill Suites University Lake in Anchorage, AK
Who knows why we book a hotel we do? Most of the time, I go to TripAdvisor, and see what other people like. Normally, we eliminate larger hotels and look for something smaller and more private. If we are going to stay in a chain we usually go to a Marriott Residence Inn. This Springhill Suites was one of the top rated, and while it was not near the airport, we knew it was an easy drive to the airport, so we booked.
When we arrived, we found we really like Anchorage. AdventureMan said it reminds him a lot of Seattle; it still has a lot of buildings that look about a hundred years old, and then a lot of sprawling growth, with mountains in the distance and a great shoreline and harbor.
The hotel room they had given us was on the first floor, so we asked for something higher. The room they gave us was lovely, but right by the elevator, so we went in to give it a try before we accepted. It was silent. The rooms are SO well insulated we didn’t even hear other doors opening and closing. It was QUIET.
It was also uncluttered, beautiful and serene. We had wifi and we had a working area and a small kitchen area with a fridge, microwave and even paper plates and utensils supplied, along with, thank God, a coffee maker.
The toilet had its own separate compartment, and the washbasin and beautiful huge shower were in another separate room. We overlooked a small lake where people were walking around, running around and walking their dogs. It was lovely. Off in the near distance, we had mountains. We really liked the room.
As we were leaving for dinner that night, I noticed that the bus had an interesting marking:
We don’t know if the bus was owned by the Inupiat people, or they own this Marriott hotel franchise, which is very near the Alaska Native Hospital, but many of the workers were Alaska Natives. (There is a difference; I am a Native Alaskan, i.e. I was born there, but I am not an Alaska Native, who are the original inhabitants. Sometimes, on government forms, I am tempted to check the block for Alaska Native, but . . . I resist. I overcome that little mischevous demon who leads me into temptation.)
Summit Lake Lodge and the Sterling Highway
We hate to leave Homer, a truly wonderful place on God’s earth, and even more glorious in the full sunlight:
We drive along the Sterling Highway en route to Anchorage, a totally different day from the rainy day we drove from Seward to Homer. On this day, we are caught in traffic, all the fisherpeople heading to the Kenai river, lined up to catch salmon. The scenery is beautiful, and AdventureMan spots a moose and her calf (not pictured) grazing near the highway.
We stop for gas and a pit stop at Grizzly Ridge, and the restrooms are immaculately clean:
We start getting hungry. We actually stop at one place, but the food is all tired looking, and not fresh, so we continue on. AdventureMan spots Summit Lake Lodge and we agree this is the right pace to stop:
After lunch, we stretch our legs a little; Summit Lake Lodge is on a beautiful, huge lake:
There is a beautiful ice cream and coffee shop on the Lodge grounds where we enjoy a huckleberry ice cream before we hit the road again on our way to Anchorage.
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