Our first Hallowe'en in Alaska reminded us how much we were no longer in Florida. Eight or ten inches of snow fell. Krista was eleven and Tom was nine. Their costumes were totally overwhelmed by snow suits, boots and scarves.
That was a Friday and by Sunday morning when I attended chapel near our town house, both kids refused to go, still a bit miffed with me no longer to be living in our house with the pool three fourths of a mile from the Atlantic Ocean. By the time I got home,Tom had all on his own found the little plastic Christmas tree. Unaware of the subtleties of little colored branch tips coordinated with holes in the main pole of the little tree, the result was unusualto say the least.
We kept it up, though. Their dad was on a mountain top in Turkey as I said earlier, and they were going through a lot of the same kinds of things so many kids of service members experience. Difficult transitions . . . re-acquiring friends . . . having to ice skate instead of swim . . . face to face encounters with moose.
Like all that.
Not that they hadn't gotten used to the snow. We had arrived in Alaska on January 28th and Elmendorf had already had about eighty-three inches. By mid-May when break-up and the melting began there had been over one hundred and twenty four inches.
The beep . . . beep . . . beep . . . of the snow clearing equipment when it backed up was constant day and night and it was very difficult to tell whether it was day or night any way. The biggest pile of snow from the runways was christened "Mt Elmendorf" and didn't all the way melt until late August.
I miss the sounds and sights and smells of the snow and the jets, the cars and even the skates on the playground, sliding, scraping, knees bumping into boards, hockey sticks slapping along. . . pucks reverberating.
Because of the years in Florida and before that a while in Mississippi . . . and even in Champaign-Urbana the snow had not been the same as the lake effect blizzards of Cook and Lake Counties. I was glad to feel the crunch again and to experience all the different kinds of snow and ice combinations.
Three weeks after we arrived in Anchorage, after Mom went back home from helping us travel up there and settle in, after our first Fur Rendezvous, after the daily sunlight was adding up more and more, although bit by bit, the kids came to me and said, "We want to go back home now."
The pool back in Florida was probably warm enough to swim in again. They were both like fish and had enjoyed that life very much, as had we all.
"Oh," looking at them sideways, "Didn't I make it clear that we were here for three years?"
They wouldn't speak to me for a few days. For a few weeks they refused to even try downhill skiing. For a few months they wouldn't use their skates or their cross country skis.
When the other children were wearing shorts and short sleeved shirts they pulled shorts for soccer games over their jeans and wore jackets. We had perpetual sniffles for the whole first year. Such a SHOCK to our bodies.
By mid November they had almost forgiven me and joined in with their friends doing all the fun activities. Skiing . . . sledding . . . skating . . . spending all Sunday at the only mall.
Nordstroms!
Another pair of officers married to each other had a daughter Krista's age. They worked in the group the kids' dad came to when he finished up in Turkey. Our families combined together in many ways and we are still blessed to be in touch.
Snow
That was a Friday and by Sunday morning when I attended chapel near our town house, both kids refused to go, still a bit miffed with me no longer to be living in our house with the pool three fourths of a mile from the Atlantic Ocean. By the time I got home,Tom had all on his own found the little plastic Christmas tree. Unaware of the subtleties of little colored branch tips coordinated with holes in the main pole of the little tree, the result was unusualto say the least.
We kept it up, though. Their dad was on a mountain top in Turkey as I said earlier, and they were going through a lot of the same kinds of things so many kids of service members experience. Difficult transitions . . . re-acquiring friends . . . having to ice skate instead of swim . . . face to face encounters with moose.
Like all that.
Not that they hadn't gotten used to the snow. We had arrived in Alaska on January 28th and Elmendorf had already had about eighty-three inches. By mid-May when break-up and the melting began there had been over one hundred and twenty four inches.
The beep . . . beep . . . beep . . . of the snow clearing equipment when it backed up was constant day and night and it was very difficult to tell whether it was day or night any way. The biggest pile of snow from the runways was christened "Mt Elmendorf" and didn't all the way melt until late August.
I miss the sounds and sights and smells of the snow and the jets, the cars and even the skates on the playground, sliding, scraping, knees bumping into boards, hockey sticks slapping along. . . pucks reverberating.
Because of the years in Florida and before that a while in Mississippi . . . and even in Champaign-Urbana the snow had not been the same as the lake effect blizzards of Cook and Lake Counties. I was glad to feel the crunch again and to experience all the different kinds of snow and ice combinations.
Three weeks after we arrived in Anchorage, after Mom went back home from helping us travel up there and settle in, after our first Fur Rendezvous, after the daily sunlight was adding up more and more, although bit by bit, the kids came to me and said, "We want to go back home now."
The pool back in Florida was probably warm enough to swim in again. They were both like fish and had enjoyed that life very much, as had we all.
"Oh," looking at them sideways, "Didn't I make it clear that we were here for three years?"
They wouldn't speak to me for a few days. For a few weeks they refused to even try downhill skiing. For a few months they wouldn't use their skates or their cross country skis.
When the other children were wearing shorts and short sleeved shirts they pulled shorts for soccer games over their jeans and wore jackets. We had perpetual sniffles for the whole first year. Such a SHOCK to our bodies.
By mid November they had almost forgiven me and joined in with their friends doing all the fun activities. Skiing . . . sledding . . . skating . . . spending all Sunday at the only mall.
Nordstroms!
Another pair of officers married to each other had a daughter Krista's age. They worked in the group the kids' dad came to when he finished up in Turkey. Our families combined together in many ways and we are still blessed to be in touch.
Snow
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