September, a month which marks drops in temperature and shorter days. More accurately, moose season. A cooler sat ready, complete with butchering knives, game bags, and staples for 1 or 2 days of hunting. Another cooler, packed full of breakfast items and dinner for three, served also as a place to sit in our latest purchase, a 20 ft. Lund. We'd had experiences on rivers before, learning channels, where to rest out of the wind, little secrets that made pleasant trips out in the boat in Koyuk. But out on the mighty Yukon? A sure way to spoil your idea of what your idea of "must haves" for any boat is a depth finder. Sometimes we'd catch Jay staring at the illuminated red oval screen, "ahhhh, why don't you look at the river, Jay..." Inevitably, Romay and I would follow the same pattern, the need to see how deep the water was at a particular bend or stretch of river. It usually read 30 ft. on the channel. Jay and I had a process down by the time moose season was over. About wednesday night, we'd start scheming, along with another family about the particulars and well, usually reminiscing about the last trip. Funny thing is, half of the fun was talking about what kind of food we'd cook over the Coleman, or the camp fire. The Browns, a family of three, whom we happened to pair up with on our weekend excursions, were nicely outfitted, professionally outfitted. They, being fellow colleagues and school employees, could only afford weekends as our time to search, relax and have the opportunity to fill the freezer with meat. Mr. Brown awed us with his jetboil, "90 seconds to boil a liter of water" or something like that. I can still hear the burner after a dramatical start, sucking butane as I watched our water slowly heat over the propane fed Coleman. I might want one of those for Christmas, since I seem to have problems when it comes to that time of year in relating what I really need. And yes, its developed into a need. A christmas with moose season as its theme, I can see it all now, complete with Cableas smiling down our credit card purchases and well, it'll be well worth anyone's contribution. We had a girl turn 12 in the house. You know what that means, or I know what it means in our household. Usually, it requires having two sets of things. One butchering knife for mom and dad and one for a 12 year old girl. A sleeping bag, no longer belonging to the parents, but "her own" bag, and the list goes on...her own tent, headlamp, cot, gear, perhaps because one day she will do these things without mom and dad. I actually think we'll get together on such occasions, or hope at least. We didn't catch a moose. I organized and cleaned the boat on return trips more that I can count or care to remember. But, Galena has shown its generosity again. Friends have supplied us with enough, enough to remain happy and share. Afterall, the adults in the teacher lounge, which I still have to see in Galena, talk about the latest happening out on the Yukon that time of year. And we love it.
Romay woke up on a saturday morning to the usual morning greeters-Kemper, myself and Jay. Jay and I had been up for a couple of hours already. Saturday morning is golden, the usual morning routine of coffee, visiting, and warm slippers and without the 'rush' of being at work at 8 am. "Happy Birthday Romay!" (hugs and kisses). Romay usually snuggles up on the couch for a few minutes, deciding whether or not she really is awake. Jay and I looked at each other, knowing that we felt like little kids, except with the thought of joy in watching Romay opening presents. "Want to open presents, Romay?" Well, she was awake. Out to the garage she went and got a large box mailed from Michigan. It had been hiding in the garage for days, covered with a green sheet to keep curious eyes from peeking before the time was right. Romay had grown several inches since last spring and though the box would've been just inches below her height last March, her growth spurt had revealed that items such as this box were less cumbersome, especially in carrying it up the stairs. A few minutes later, we were all marveling at the youth bow grandma and grandpa Harris had picked out (A HUGE THANKS AGAIN!). Next, she opened a small box from Mom and Dad, a digital camera and one that wouldn't eat batteries in a couple of days. That afternoon, we could hear arrows hitting insulated sheets in the yard. We'd peek out and see a content 12 year old, shooting and fetching arrows. I'm not sure if the ptarmigan, grouse and rabbit know about the little archer in their back yard now.
A cup of this is equivalent to several oranges in vitamin C.
Gram dresses up to go the the post office. Whenever we go somewhere, we run into someone she knows. I remember standing by her or Papa for 15-20 minutes while they'd visit with others at the store, PO, just out and about. I loved it!
A pair of Gram's handiwork. 
