The Troubled Sleep of an Alaskan Volcano

Lola turned and tossed her nighttime salad, while I cut the red onions and looked about for the Hundred Island Dressing. “That’s Thousand Island, you Boob”, she muttered in her sleep, while I wondered when exactly, she’d be waking up from her Winter Hibernation, shedding her winter fur and greeting me with a big Bear Hug and Breath that would flatten an Anchorage Longshoreman, at 30 yards and counting!

She turned towards me, her eyes glazed over not unlike the baked Alaskan Ham I ate last week, where I found myself, toasting her health, then tossing my environmentally-friendly, completely bio-degradable wine glass into the electric toaster, shorting out the power-supply and plunging my dreams of a meal fit for a Canadian King, into utter darkness! “To you, my Love” I said, though I wasn’t even sure if I could find myself in the blackness of an Alaskan Winter Night?”

“Thirsty” murmured someone in the blackness. “Ice-water for the masses” it said again, and if you knew Lola, like I did, then ice-water was a sort of evil-dream, a Mantra that wasn’t to be ignored, run from or worshiped, in that very order of things! I knew in my heart that pleasing Lola meant that a trip to the Ice House out back was inevitable, so I put on my winter coat and grabbed the snow shovel near the door and, and….

Two hours later, or what I imagined to be two hours, I found myself at the door of the Ice House. The snow having been over 5 feet tall, and rather icy at that, meant that my Quest for Ice was almost over and done with. Although, by the light of my flashlight, I could see that long devilishly-formed icicles hung from the roof of my destination, causing me to smash those puppies with the shovel before entering the inner sanctum! “Drat it and Doggone it” I exclaimed aloud seeing that the Ice House was without ice, causing me to assume a fetal position, before re-entering the house again, to see if my love had noticed my absence, and apparent lack of ice?

“Lola” I called out, but heard only the pleasant breathing and mumbling in her sleep while I readied myself for a trip by Caribou to the nearby Mini-market in beautiful downtown Anchor Point, Alaska. I laughed a bit thinking of how Lola would have said, “Why did you say, Alaska, when you and I, and especially the both of us, know where Anchor Point is!?” I would have mentioned Anchor Bay, Alaska, which it turns out to be in Michigan or California, which….but I digress.

The roads to Anchor Point were quite icy, but with a little luck and the light of the sunrise at 10am this fine morning in January, I might just be able to get the ice and then back home again, before the sun goes down at 427pm. I pulled into the parking lot next door to Big Jim’s Ice Palace and Ice Skating Rink, where a sign greeted me at the front entrance, “Closed due to lack of ice this unusually warm winter!”

I admit that 9 degrees Fahrenheit was a bit on the warmish side, but I really was running out of time and patience on my Ice Quest and all, wondering if the Foreign Legion would take me and let me forget, just forget…….

On the sidewalks a lot of workers were using steel rods to break the ice off the sidewalks, thus allowing me to wander the streets of the town hoping against hope to satisfy the needs of my one and only. I stopped off at a nearby 7-11 and enjoyed a frozen drink, the locals called a Slurpee, but even that didn’t help my spirits as I climbed back onto my Caribou and braved the icy roads back home again.

The sun had set for the day, making those icicles grow once again, making me wonder just where and when I’d be able to find that most cherished of all substances, somewhere this side of Montreal, Canada, just good old American Ice from Alaska?

Lola turned over again in her sleep saying, “Thirsty. So Thirsty. Won’t you bring me a glass of ice-water?”

I turned on the faucet in the kitchen and hoped that the water would appear this side of Spring, being just a bit warmer than those imaginary ice-cubes that were cooling off my love, somewhere in her dreams, while I whispered, “Take this ice-water from my, my love then sleep….

sleep

sleep….

I might as well hope for the troubled sleep of an Alaskan Volcano, causing it to explode, saving me from having to go out again in the morning and stand on the corner in downtown Soldotna, a tin cup in my hand, bearing a face of dejection and all hope lost, begging the locals for an ice-cube or two!

-just wish for it, I said…..

-just wish for it…


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