Well, the brief respite in the weather has come to an end..It's now back down to -12 and falling again. Still, I'm comforted by the fact that we have a tree cut and split, sitting happily in the wood box. It's amazing how fast we're getting at doing that. I took down a ~50' birch tree yesterday afternoon. The kids and I descended upon it like locust and we had it cut, sectioned, split and stacked in the house in just over an hour. Pretty amazing stuff considering our ragged band of lumberjacks! I was also reminded of the frailty of life when we were cutting it. I followed all the rules, made sure I had a clear path of retreat, sectioned the tree in the proper way and when it fell I tried to run away as per normal and my snowshoe got buried under a minor avalanche and all I could do was cover my head as I watched the bases of the tree kick over and start coming my way. Well suffice it to say, it missed me..by inches. I was lost in a huge cloud of falling snow for a few minutes, the kids thought I was a goner, but it fell right next to me instead. I guess I think that when things like that happen maybe Glenda is watching out for me, giving the tree a little nudge while she shakes her head and sighs. Eh, life in the wild. Experiences like that definitely remind you you're alive. I was also reminded of how spirited and tough Alaskans are yesterday. One of the residents of Willow, an 83 year old man, was attacked by a moose as he was letting his dogs into the house. It's that time of year, the moose are going crazy cause of the snow and the cold as much as we are, so they're cranky. His wife saw this and did she call 911? Nope..well, afterward, I'm sure..but during the incident she didn't wait for help, she didn't wring her hands and cry piteously for someone to come save her husband, she relied on herself. That's right, the 85 year old woman grabbed a snow shovel and went after a 1200 pound bull moose. Beat the snot out of it. Chased it away from her husband and THEN called for help. THAT is the Alaskan spirit alive and well. Stand up, face life's wild animal charges head on and pick up the pieces later. Kudos to you, Dorothea Taylor! I wish this country had a million more just like you!