Helloooo...... 'Test' 'Testing....'
Is this blog turned on?
1....
1.... 2..3......,
4............
Blog check, testing 1, 2.
Ok, so I am going to start posting a blog for a smaller audience. If you feel like commenting I wouldn't mind.
An alarm wakes me up, and I decide it's still a tad bit early to try to get up. I would rather stay in bed and enjoy the longest possible delay until I have to leave- for a three and a half day training session. I finally march up to catch a ride to the airport, and no one's there- so I check the schedule and I still have an extra hour. So I go back home, the air is so fresh, and it's a bit chilly. Snow is in a thin blanket over the ground, transforming the landscape into a pure refreshing bluish white.
An extra few minutes with my loved ones, some more coffee, a second goodbye, a round of kisses and I'm off again. This time I arrive early, and wait with the other passengers to ride in one of the carts pulled by 4-wheel ATVs. I sling my backpack into a cart and sit down, but have to get up again because the seat's so cold.
The droning sound is faint but detectable in the remarkably quiet, noise-pollution free environment that I'm in. No one is up, hence no one is cruising by on a Honda, or talking, kids shouting, dogs barking, just silence. I'm thankful the plane is coming, and our team starts getting ready to go, but someone's missing. "He went to get another shirt."
"Well we need to go, does anybody know where he lives?" No answer. I don't even know. In a small village of 350 you would think I know every house in town, but I don't, and neither do the new teaching staff, so we just decide to wait a sec. And here he comes. Next, we're starting the machines, sitting on the icy seats, zipping our coats as high as they will go, and we're off to meet the chartered plane. The cold feels good, but in a couple weeks it will bite painfully into uncovered cheeks, ears and hands.
The airport lights glow a pretty blue, and the red light on the tail of the plane seems to race and hop across the tundra with every bounce of the cart. One of the local airlines agent is there, picking up a delivery for our store- some cases of pop, boxes of soup, and chips; 300 pounds in all. When they're done, the pilot opens the belly cargo hold of this 12 seater, and tells us to stow our bags and go ahead and go on in and have a seat. Which we do. And adjust our belts, I make sure mine is really snug, and just relax. One can see our glowing GPS and flightplan display up on the control dashboard, and the pilot starts a recorded announcement telling us where the emergency exits are as he starts the plane. I put in some earplugs. He taxis out to a branch of our simple cross shaped landing strip, turns the plane at the end and revs up as he points to the opposite end of the packed dirt runway. We're off, and the amount of snow is all new to the senses. In a couple of nights the landscape changed from browns and tans to an all over white. There's no snow in the little valley's creasing the hills, so they stand out like fractals going down to the dark sea.
As we pass through the clouds, I fall asleep.
Is this blog turned on?
1....
1.... 2..3......,
4............
Blog check, testing 1, 2.
Ok, so I am going to start posting a blog for a smaller audience. If you feel like commenting I wouldn't mind.
An alarm wakes me up, and I decide it's still a tad bit early to try to get up. I would rather stay in bed and enjoy the longest possible delay until I have to leave- for a three and a half day training session. I finally march up to catch a ride to the airport, and no one's there- so I check the schedule and I still have an extra hour. So I go back home, the air is so fresh, and it's a bit chilly. Snow is in a thin blanket over the ground, transforming the landscape into a pure refreshing bluish white.
An extra few minutes with my loved ones, some more coffee, a second goodbye, a round of kisses and I'm off again. This time I arrive early, and wait with the other passengers to ride in one of the carts pulled by 4-wheel ATVs. I sling my backpack into a cart and sit down, but have to get up again because the seat's so cold.
The droning sound is faint but detectable in the remarkably quiet, noise-pollution free environment that I'm in. No one is up, hence no one is cruising by on a Honda, or talking, kids shouting, dogs barking, just silence. I'm thankful the plane is coming, and our team starts getting ready to go, but someone's missing. "He went to get another shirt."
"Well we need to go, does anybody know where he lives?" No answer. I don't even know. In a small village of 350 you would think I know every house in town, but I don't, and neither do the new teaching staff, so we just decide to wait a sec. And here he comes. Next, we're starting the machines, sitting on the icy seats, zipping our coats as high as they will go, and we're off to meet the chartered plane. The cold feels good, but in a couple weeks it will bite painfully into uncovered cheeks, ears and hands.
The airport lights glow a pretty blue, and the red light on the tail of the plane seems to race and hop across the tundra with every bounce of the cart. One of the local airlines agent is there, picking up a delivery for our store- some cases of pop, boxes of soup, and chips; 300 pounds in all. When they're done, the pilot opens the belly cargo hold of this 12 seater, and tells us to stow our bags and go ahead and go on in and have a seat. Which we do. And adjust our belts, I make sure mine is really snug, and just relax. One can see our glowing GPS and flightplan display up on the control dashboard, and the pilot starts a recorded announcement telling us where the emergency exits are as he starts the plane. I put in some earplugs. He taxis out to a branch of our simple cross shaped landing strip, turns the plane at the end and revs up as he points to the opposite end of the packed dirt runway. We're off, and the amount of snow is all new to the senses. In a couple of nights the landscape changed from browns and tans to an all over white. There's no snow in the little valley's creasing the hills, so they stand out like fractals going down to the dark sea.
As we pass through the clouds, I fall asleep.
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