I have a chance to briefly check in with ye olde world wide web at the library, so here goes a rundown of the major stuff: Jason and I and our now grape-sized baby plan to leave Anchorage toward the end of this week to drive back to Montana, where we'll set up a real, bonified home! It'll be one in which we can unpack momentos, hang pictures and magazine clippings on the walls, and keep a bulk-sized bag of beans in the closet. Well, that will happen sometime this year, perhaps.
Immediately, we'll be at my folks' house for a month, then probably living at Glacier Park, where Jason will work for the summer, then hopefully our own temporary place while we try to track down a hunk of land for homesteading. The last month, we have broken into the chorus of this John Prine song more than ever before, what with the apparent collapse of our economy and society:
Blow up your T.V.
Throw away your paper
Go to the country
Build you a home
Plant a little garden
Eat a lot of peaches
Try and find Jesus
On your own
YES! How is that not a perfect manifesto for life, with the possible tweaking of a theological point or two? Like, finding Jesus not on our own but with a bunch of friends who are also living on the land nearby. Also, this song doesn't make mention of having horses and buggies instead of vehicles, which seems to be the route Jason is heading.
So, three of us will head back down the Alcan soon...three instead of four, because on a snowy day last week, we had to let Beth go. The doc said she had bone cancer and was in lots of pain, so we swallowed hard and did it. We knew it was her time. We had already made and cancelled two preceding appointments for having her put down, based on hopeful but fleeting signs of improvement. She was a doll through the whole experience, which didn't much make it easy, but which was a testament to her sweet spirit and loyalty. She completely trusted us, right up to the end. Damn. A dog's entire lifespan have Jason and I been through together, from 6 weeks old until her death eleven and a half years later. We think that's something. And now, a new chapter of our family's story is unfolding, so we're happy and we're hopeful. But boy do we miss Beth.
The Sunday before, we had brought her to church, and it just so happened that most of her favorite Alaska people were there, kids and adults who had loved her for the bulk of her life. It was such a joyful event! Everyone took turns petting her, and she pranced around the parking lot soaking in the attention.
Good girl, Beth. Good girl.
