Who's A Tree?
I had received a chain e-mail asking me to read the list of trees and picking my favorite one. At the end of the e-mail was "answers" that told my personality according to the Trees I had picked.
I'll start by saying that there's just one "tree" or plant that I do not like at all. It's the feared "diamond willow".
From these small trees you can get walking sticks and canes that are wielded so hastily by mean Elders up and down the Rivers of the remote Interior Alaskan wilderness.
I know of this....have felt a cane or two as it was used upon me when smack dab in the middle of a domestic dispute or two at 2 in the morning.
When I was a hero lawman in uniform the diamond willow was my kryptonite. Enterprising Natives can fetch $300 to $800 per cane if they varnish & shellac the heck out of it. But other more honest Natives take their canes closer to heart.
Such village Elders I speak of are tough and resilient...almost as tough as their canes and often in old age that is the only employment an Elder can get, to employ said cane upon hapless unsuspecting villagers and the occasional officer.
Whether it be to keep a young suitor away from the village beauty grandaughter
(er....or so I've heard) or to keep the peace between family members and the village public safety officer. (indeed I have felt)
Diamond willow might not be feared by anyone else in Alaska but under some circumstances it can be your silver bullet or crucifix to keep me away.
I cannot look at this piece of email that is being passed around, about "what kind of tree are you?"
Then you look at your birth month listed and read the corresponding traits that go with it, without really looking hard at myself and judging what I am inside.
Of all the things I am I can say, for one thing, I'm not very decorative. I'm quite messy in a pack rat sort of way. Though I am quite talented and self confident.
I don't consider myself a tree but in some ways I like the much vaunted and indeed misunderstood "Alaskan duff". Duff is the grassy plantish stuff that you see when looking at the forest or indeed the whole Alaskan landscape.
Everywhere you go in the woods it's there like a carpet dressing the landscapes in browns, greens, soft yellows and still more browns. At times the grass can be woven together clothe like and other times the soil holds it together.
In those gorgeous, captivating Alaska scenery post cards and calendars. Whether the photo is of unsuspecting fishermen about to have their fishing spot replaced by a hungry bruin or else of cute brown bear cubs in those photos - yep -That's Duff you're looking at in the scenery.
It looks soft and spongy. Believe me. Most of it isn't. But it just looks that way as the photo of mama moose with two twin calfs - standing big nosed cute with long gangly legs beside her - would suggest.
I must say that to have been sitting around for hundreds, perhaps thousands of years here in the far north and still get away with not even climbing the evolutionary ladder would tend to make Alaskan duff personality a bit dull, but such lowly status in the forests and marshlands has its merits; like consistency consistency and consistency.
One hunters turned ankle while packing out caribou meat on the lower Kenai after catching a booted toe upon a tall muskeg upcropping is one emergency fire fighters well-done serta mattress up in the Interior Alaska highlands while resting for a few minutes from a long day of firefighting.
It's all the same covering for the Alaskan permafrost just a scant few feet below.
And if it isn't one thing in life that we all are comfortable with is consistency?? We like the routine of home, the ho humness of family life and with friends. It's comforting and safe. Yep. I like the duff.
Is the tundra ambitious enough to race through life gathering friends, heartaches and joys, cats, dogs and enjoying warm hotdogs by the fire? Does it harden it's arteries with Wendys and potato chips or soak up reruns of Emeril Live!! on satellite?
Does it want to pursue degree after degree so that it can call itself "piled high and deeper"? no... rather. The Alaska Duff is just content to... well, sit there on its duff!! and watch the Alaskan wild life go by and oft times in some places the Duff is piled higher and deeper. Literally.
Just this last summer 2004 fighting fires North of Fairbanks I was digging out a perimeter around a small whisp of smoke - a "hotspot". "Dig to the bare mineral soil" the other fire seasoned veterans told me. I dug, and dug, chopped and dug with my polaski tool.
Tell me when you see "the Wall" said a veteran fire fighter before walking away.
No sense in digging to China, so I kept digging and chopping a circle around that whisp of smoke and left it at that. I had dug 4' deep and was still seeing grass, plants, grass, more plants. but no mineral soil. Hotspot Out!!!!
In the more urban areas the Duff is content to watch Alaska "Wild" life roar up in sport utility vehicles, make fire and dance around drinking all night long until fighting starts and then everyone decides the fun is over, leaving only a dying campfire and various bottles and cans in it's wake. Humans.
Alaskan duff just sits there and lets you decide what ever you want to do. Cut some up off the forest floor like a carpet and wear the piece like a robe. Lay, sit or stand there and you're sure to get a bird to land on your shoulder in no time at all. It's an easy going playmate if you ask me.
Oft times it keeps me on guard when I'm creeping through the woods by hiding a bunny rabbit or concealing a spruce hen then letting the critter's presence be known to me and watching as I fumble with my bow & arrow or else slap my pockets searching for rifle shells.
My first summer here in the State of Alaska the duff was a curious playmate of mine. I'd shoot arrows at a tree or target sitting in front of a tree and my overshoots were often rewarded with a long days search for a missing arrow.
After hours or even two days of searching I'd look at the tree and there..sitting Between Me and the Tree was the arrow. Halfway in the earth and half way out.
Were my own "elder" Grandfather be alive today and saw me doing that he'd ask me..
"Are those things in your head (my eyes) just ornaments?" before quietly stalking away *sighing* and patting his chest and belly.
Well, come to think of it, he'd probably strip a willow branch from a nearby stand and come after me with it!
Out of an estimated 20 arrows I shot I still haven't accounted for a dozen shafts. Although the rest of my arrows the duff did return to me in two pieces or else-bent. Oh well.
I would say that the Alaskan duff is quiet and shy. And for such a non colorful personality it does like to play with fate. After all, would You like a forest fire or two to ravage your House every summer?? the sanctuary you call home?? I think not.
Such events would be quite traumatic for you or me. But the Alaskan duff quietly takes forest fires, late night drinking parties, a quiet brooding young man's company and the lost hunter or two all in stride because it knows how to adapt. It's been there. It's done that.
It's been around for a long long time in the low land marshes "soft and spongy" on up to the mountain tops "stiff and coarse" where only rocks, ewes and lambs dwell.
What ever it's consistency... "Consistent" is it's name.]]]
theEnd
Happy Thanksgiving 2004 everyone.
Last night (Mon 22nd) I completed the 2 week ETT (emergency trauma technician) class.
All 6 of us students passed the course. I got a 78% on last nights written test. I have to complain when a test question goes like... You see an elder grasping at his chest and wincing in pain. What do you do??
And the answers are like. You and your ett companions carry him to the response vehicle and take him to the clinic. Or, you help him into his car so he can drive home by himself. Or, you lay him down in the shock position and administer oxygen and cold packs.... Huh?? aren't cold packs for heat stroke?
First I'd see what his problem is then transport him to the clinic. But I got that answer wrong by saying to transport him right away. Too much elements in the answer confuses me. I'm happy that my certifications are updated now for the next 2 years. Instead of recerting this coming June when the old ones expire.
But I passed and I know my stuff anyway, we all do. The practical tests we did on Procedure and then the final Written test isn't the Final Test. The final test is when an emergency happens and each of us is faced with responding and giving aid. I've had that final test a few times in Minto. enough said.
Lately I've been waiting on Insurance quotes for my private security project I started. But a non profit agency based out in Nome recently contacted me and wants me to work for them as a VPSO. Ok.
I can put aside my personal ambitions for now and do the vpso work again. I left the village but the village never left me. So here I sit for a week, a month or so waiting for the company to do their papers that I completed and faxed to them.
Looks like I'll have to cut my long hair if I get sent back to the Academy in Sitka. The Trooper instructors are military-minded men so I would need to be clean cut. But after that I can go Native once again. After all for $32K to $44K a year in a job that's in High demand in Alaska hopefully they'll cut me some slack.
I'll have to brush up on my Yu'pik and Russian. And start eating raw food just to get my stomach ready for seal, whale, fish and caribou. Kawerak Inc is based in Nome and has several villages with VPSO's stationed around its region but there are several more villages without a much needed Village Public Safety Officer.
I'm big enough physically and inside too, (the non profits words - not mine) to handle a more populated village or community so for now I've been verbally committed to Savoonga out on St Lawerance Island. Another choice if not Savoonga will be Big Diomede or else little diomede. Yikes!!!! The International dateline separates both diomedes and didn't the russians relocate BD population during the cold war??
I'm scared because I hope my experiences with the natives aren't as creepy as the 2001 yr experience I had in Nome when I attended vpso regional training with several officers from my old non profit company that I used to work for.
After work & class hours everyone else would go downtown Nome and drink. I just went a few times to sit in the Restaurant portion of certain bars and EAT. I even got lucky enough to take pics of my old nonprofit vpso director/boss and a few vpso buddies receiving written directions from the bar maid.....in one photo everyone looks like they're checking out ms blondes chest. LOL.
My workload in the village eased up a bit after that and I got wonderful new toys paid for by the non profit lest some certain...*ahem* pics fall into the boss's new-wife's hands. Just kidding. Actually workload increased after that and I bought all my equipment & tools with my own $. hhmmmppph!!
So, one night in Nome, after starting to walk back to the hotel I heard good Live rock music blaring out from one bar.
I go in and watch One (1) man with a guitar, a drum machine and a computer play music like there was a real live band. This Old eskimo woman with a broken leg and crutches hobbles up to my table and sits down and starts talking to me.
She's waiting for her ride to come get her at the bar. (Next to babies and most kids I like cute lil' old ladies. Some fit the calling quite well wearing wrinkles and gray hair perfectly. This one gramma was in a class allll by herself.)
She wants to sell me the mukluks off her feet. i politely decline and then she talks about her grand daughter.
After an hour of listening to grandma I know more about the grandaughter than her husband (back then she wasn't married - let's hope the girl is married by now, she's gorgeous), her doctor and hair dresser & massage therapist combined!!
And if I were to meet the girl today. I'd still respect her.. (what ever that means).
What was strange about that day was that my fortune cookie I received when eating that day's lunch at an Asian restaurant said... "you will find romance in the near future". ok....
What ever happens to me it's all for the best. I'll save lots of $ by being stuck in a Road - less village. yay. And I won't fight tooth and nail to leave the village unless it's to help out during the end of the World Reknowned Iditarod sled dog race.
Where I know that a few VPSO's get to stand duty in supplementing AST and Nome PD in the city and at the dog race finish line.
I found a nice GIF on the Net. An indian and a pilgrim fighting. You'll like it, I hope.
I'll send it to you all as an attachment.
Happy Thanksgiving.
take care.
theSam!!!
I'll start by saying that there's just one "tree" or plant that I do not like at all. It's the feared "diamond willow".
From these small trees you can get walking sticks and canes that are wielded so hastily by mean Elders up and down the Rivers of the remote Interior Alaskan wilderness.
I know of this....have felt a cane or two as it was used upon me when smack dab in the middle of a domestic dispute or two at 2 in the morning.
When I was a hero lawman in uniform the diamond willow was my kryptonite. Enterprising Natives can fetch $300 to $800 per cane if they varnish & shellac the heck out of it. But other more honest Natives take their canes closer to heart.
Such village Elders I speak of are tough and resilient...almost as tough as their canes and often in old age that is the only employment an Elder can get, to employ said cane upon hapless unsuspecting villagers and the occasional officer.
Whether it be to keep a young suitor away from the village beauty grandaughter
(er....or so I've heard) or to keep the peace between family members and the village public safety officer. (indeed I have felt)
Diamond willow might not be feared by anyone else in Alaska but under some circumstances it can be your silver bullet or crucifix to keep me away.
I cannot look at this piece of email that is being passed around, about "what kind of tree are you?"
Then you look at your birth month listed and read the corresponding traits that go with it, without really looking hard at myself and judging what I am inside.
Of all the things I am I can say, for one thing, I'm not very decorative. I'm quite messy in a pack rat sort of way. Though I am quite talented and self confident.
I don't consider myself a tree but in some ways I like the much vaunted and indeed misunderstood "Alaskan duff". Duff is the grassy plantish stuff that you see when looking at the forest or indeed the whole Alaskan landscape.
Everywhere you go in the woods it's there like a carpet dressing the landscapes in browns, greens, soft yellows and still more browns. At times the grass can be woven together clothe like and other times the soil holds it together.
In those gorgeous, captivating Alaska scenery post cards and calendars. Whether the photo is of unsuspecting fishermen about to have their fishing spot replaced by a hungry bruin or else of cute brown bear cubs in those photos - yep -That's Duff you're looking at in the scenery.
It looks soft and spongy. Believe me. Most of it isn't. But it just looks that way as the photo of mama moose with two twin calfs - standing big nosed cute with long gangly legs beside her - would suggest.
I must say that to have been sitting around for hundreds, perhaps thousands of years here in the far north and still get away with not even climbing the evolutionary ladder would tend to make Alaskan duff personality a bit dull, but such lowly status in the forests and marshlands has its merits; like consistency consistency and consistency.
One hunters turned ankle while packing out caribou meat on the lower Kenai after catching a booted toe upon a tall muskeg upcropping is one emergency fire fighters well-done serta mattress up in the Interior Alaska highlands while resting for a few minutes from a long day of firefighting.
It's all the same covering for the Alaskan permafrost just a scant few feet below.
And if it isn't one thing in life that we all are comfortable with is consistency?? We like the routine of home, the ho humness of family life and with friends. It's comforting and safe. Yep. I like the duff.
Is the tundra ambitious enough to race through life gathering friends, heartaches and joys, cats, dogs and enjoying warm hotdogs by the fire? Does it harden it's arteries with Wendys and potato chips or soak up reruns of Emeril Live!! on satellite?
Does it want to pursue degree after degree so that it can call itself "piled high and deeper"? no... rather. The Alaska Duff is just content to... well, sit there on its duff!! and watch the Alaskan wild life go by and oft times in some places the Duff is piled higher and deeper. Literally.
Just this last summer 2004 fighting fires North of Fairbanks I was digging out a perimeter around a small whisp of smoke - a "hotspot". "Dig to the bare mineral soil" the other fire seasoned veterans told me. I dug, and dug, chopped and dug with my polaski tool.
Tell me when you see "the Wall" said a veteran fire fighter before walking away.
No sense in digging to China, so I kept digging and chopping a circle around that whisp of smoke and left it at that. I had dug 4' deep and was still seeing grass, plants, grass, more plants. but no mineral soil. Hotspot Out!!!!
In the more urban areas the Duff is content to watch Alaska "Wild" life roar up in sport utility vehicles, make fire and dance around drinking all night long until fighting starts and then everyone decides the fun is over, leaving only a dying campfire and various bottles and cans in it's wake. Humans.
Alaskan duff just sits there and lets you decide what ever you want to do. Cut some up off the forest floor like a carpet and wear the piece like a robe. Lay, sit or stand there and you're sure to get a bird to land on your shoulder in no time at all. It's an easy going playmate if you ask me.
Oft times it keeps me on guard when I'm creeping through the woods by hiding a bunny rabbit or concealing a spruce hen then letting the critter's presence be known to me and watching as I fumble with my bow & arrow or else slap my pockets searching for rifle shells.
My first summer here in the State of Alaska the duff was a curious playmate of mine. I'd shoot arrows at a tree or target sitting in front of a tree and my overshoots were often rewarded with a long days search for a missing arrow.
After hours or even two days of searching I'd look at the tree and there..sitting Between Me and the Tree was the arrow. Halfway in the earth and half way out.
Were my own "elder" Grandfather be alive today and saw me doing that he'd ask me..
"Are those things in your head (my eyes) just ornaments?" before quietly stalking away *sighing* and patting his chest and belly.
Well, come to think of it, he'd probably strip a willow branch from a nearby stand and come after me with it!
Out of an estimated 20 arrows I shot I still haven't accounted for a dozen shafts. Although the rest of my arrows the duff did return to me in two pieces or else-bent. Oh well.
I would say that the Alaskan duff is quiet and shy. And for such a non colorful personality it does like to play with fate. After all, would You like a forest fire or two to ravage your House every summer?? the sanctuary you call home?? I think not.
Such events would be quite traumatic for you or me. But the Alaskan duff quietly takes forest fires, late night drinking parties, a quiet brooding young man's company and the lost hunter or two all in stride because it knows how to adapt. It's been there. It's done that.
It's been around for a long long time in the low land marshes "soft and spongy" on up to the mountain tops "stiff and coarse" where only rocks, ewes and lambs dwell.
What ever it's consistency... "Consistent" is it's name.]]]
theEnd
Happy Thanksgiving 2004 everyone.
Last night (Mon 22nd) I completed the 2 week ETT (emergency trauma technician) class.
All 6 of us students passed the course. I got a 78% on last nights written test. I have to complain when a test question goes like... You see an elder grasping at his chest and wincing in pain. What do you do??
And the answers are like. You and your ett companions carry him to the response vehicle and take him to the clinic. Or, you help him into his car so he can drive home by himself. Or, you lay him down in the shock position and administer oxygen and cold packs.... Huh?? aren't cold packs for heat stroke?
First I'd see what his problem is then transport him to the clinic. But I got that answer wrong by saying to transport him right away. Too much elements in the answer confuses me. I'm happy that my certifications are updated now for the next 2 years. Instead of recerting this coming June when the old ones expire.
But I passed and I know my stuff anyway, we all do. The practical tests we did on Procedure and then the final Written test isn't the Final Test. The final test is when an emergency happens and each of us is faced with responding and giving aid. I've had that final test a few times in Minto. enough said.
Lately I've been waiting on Insurance quotes for my private security project I started. But a non profit agency based out in Nome recently contacted me and wants me to work for them as a VPSO. Ok.
I can put aside my personal ambitions for now and do the vpso work again. I left the village but the village never left me. So here I sit for a week, a month or so waiting for the company to do their papers that I completed and faxed to them.
Looks like I'll have to cut my long hair if I get sent back to the Academy in Sitka. The Trooper instructors are military-minded men so I would need to be clean cut. But after that I can go Native once again. After all for $32K to $44K a year in a job that's in High demand in Alaska hopefully they'll cut me some slack.
I'll have to brush up on my Yu'pik and Russian. And start eating raw food just to get my stomach ready for seal, whale, fish and caribou. Kawerak Inc is based in Nome and has several villages with VPSO's stationed around its region but there are several more villages without a much needed Village Public Safety Officer.
I'm big enough physically and inside too, (the non profits words - not mine) to handle a more populated village or community so for now I've been verbally committed to Savoonga out on St Lawerance Island. Another choice if not Savoonga will be Big Diomede or else little diomede. Yikes!!!! The International dateline separates both diomedes and didn't the russians relocate BD population during the cold war??
I'm scared because I hope my experiences with the natives aren't as creepy as the 2001 yr experience I had in Nome when I attended vpso regional training with several officers from my old non profit company that I used to work for.
After work & class hours everyone else would go downtown Nome and drink. I just went a few times to sit in the Restaurant portion of certain bars and EAT. I even got lucky enough to take pics of my old nonprofit vpso director/boss and a few vpso buddies receiving written directions from the bar maid.....in one photo everyone looks like they're checking out ms blondes chest. LOL.
My workload in the village eased up a bit after that and I got wonderful new toys paid for by the non profit lest some certain...*ahem* pics fall into the boss's new-wife's hands. Just kidding. Actually workload increased after that and I bought all my equipment & tools with my own $. hhmmmppph!!
So, one night in Nome, after starting to walk back to the hotel I heard good Live rock music blaring out from one bar.
I go in and watch One (1) man with a guitar, a drum machine and a computer play music like there was a real live band. This Old eskimo woman with a broken leg and crutches hobbles up to my table and sits down and starts talking to me.
She's waiting for her ride to come get her at the bar. (Next to babies and most kids I like cute lil' old ladies. Some fit the calling quite well wearing wrinkles and gray hair perfectly. This one gramma was in a class allll by herself.)
She wants to sell me the mukluks off her feet. i politely decline and then she talks about her grand daughter.
After an hour of listening to grandma I know more about the grandaughter than her husband (back then she wasn't married - let's hope the girl is married by now, she's gorgeous), her doctor and hair dresser & massage therapist combined!!
And if I were to meet the girl today. I'd still respect her.. (what ever that means).
What was strange about that day was that my fortune cookie I received when eating that day's lunch at an Asian restaurant said... "you will find romance in the near future". ok....
What ever happens to me it's all for the best. I'll save lots of $ by being stuck in a Road - less village. yay. And I won't fight tooth and nail to leave the village unless it's to help out during the end of the World Reknowned Iditarod sled dog race.
Where I know that a few VPSO's get to stand duty in supplementing AST and Nome PD in the city and at the dog race finish line.
I found a nice GIF on the Net. An indian and a pilgrim fighting. You'll like it, I hope.
I'll send it to you all as an attachment.
Happy Thanksgiving.
take care.
theSam!!!
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