Pictures of Dee's Visit

I'd like to resume the photographic tale of Cousin Deirdre and the Fabulous Mike's visit to the Kuskokwim-300. I will spare you the details of the reasons for my delay. I won't even go into the topics of procrastination or distraction. I won't talk about the corncakes I made to heat the hovel when our heat went off and it was cold, and windy, and 60 Below. Or about the piece of art that one particular fur hat sewing district attorney gifted to me….indeed, I won't even talk about how he sewed a fur hat out of green astro-turf. (Though I will – soon – and in the meantime shall pause, for just a second, to again ask you to join me in persuading Tom to start a blog of his own.) I shall even restrain from talking about my favorite fried egg sandwich in town.

I'm going to save all that for later.

Here – and now – I shall, finally, resume the photographic tale of a visit of two very fun folks, the memory of which still has me glowing from the combination of good people, good times, and smoked fish.

So, here we go……

When we left off, the ever-adventurous Cousin Deirdre and the Fabulous Mike had learned their snowmaching skills on Mission Lake and then demonstrated their snowmaching prowess on a trip down the Kuskokwim River. After going through a few sloughs, and past a few wintered-up fish camps, we returned to town, crossed Mission Lake, sped through Alligator Acres, and popped over to Pat's to meet Hugh Neff's dog team.......













After playing with the dogs, Mike got to work and helped Hugh to swap out the "regular" runners on his sled for a pair of "race" runners. (Do keep in mind that only a few hours before, Mike got to work and helped a pizza delivery guy that knocked on my door to pull his car out of the ditch in front of my neighbors house.)



If ever there is a musher that is generous with his time and enthusiasm for dog mushing, it is Hugh Neff. I really am grateful to him for taking time out of his day-of-the-race morning to talk with my visiting family about dog-mushing and to let us play with his team!



Be sure to look for him in the Yukon Quest and the Iditarod. He's good people!

Eventually, we had to leave to start our official race-day volunteer duties. Our next race-related endeavour took us to the neighborhood called Kasayuli. This time we drove - I drove. Cousin Deirdre and the Fabulous Mike were too polite to express any fear at the prospect, and I am very happy to say that we arrived safely....and early! Oh, that Cousin D - she has always been such a good influence on me! In any event, we were on truck support duty, assigned to help musher Jim Lanier get his sled to the start line. Our pick-up is not equipped to transport dogs, and so we were there - literally - to transport the sled. Alas, there was some confusion and a dash of chaos with the folks that were assigned to transport the dogs. Eventually, fortunately, a plan was hatched. Bethel-style - meaning we made it happen with the resources we had. Here is the team getting the bulk of the team loaded up into a pick-up equipped for transporting dog teams.





The other dogs rode inside our pick-ups. One rode in the cab of my pick-up (while Mike rode in the bed of the pick-up, making sure that the sled and gear did not fall out - oh! he's a good man!), two dogs rode in the bed of my friend's (with his wife and my cousin Deirdre, each holding onto a dog), and a few rode inside the jeep of Jim Lanier's host family. But they all arrived! A little later than we had planned, but well before the last musher arrived. Without any delay, Jim Lanier got his sled set up and started the process of moving the dogs from the pick-ups to their harnesses.



And then, amidst an excitement that I may never be describe though I hope never to forget, we lined up and helped Jim Lanier get his team to the starting chute. Cousin Deirdre and the Fabulous Mike jumped in and helped, even though I'm fairly certain that they hadn't ever handled a team inside the starting chute of a world-famous dogsledding race amidst an eager and excited crowd. They were incredible.



(For the record - I wasn't the only one that thought so. Indeed, the very next morning after the race start, we stopped by the Saturday market at the Cultural Center and Cousin Deirdre discovered that there was an entire crafts table devoted to pictures of Deirdre and Mike at the starting line....pictures, postcards, greeting cards, magnets, photo albums, etc.!)



One Mr. Lanier's team was off, we were free to watch the rest of the teams make their way through the chute. Here's few pictures of the crowd. They don't do justice to the scene, but I suppose they make a good introduction.



And once the last team was through, we wandered over to the Hovercraft to partake of the free hotdogs and hot chocolate being offered to the community. Alas, they had run out of everything! And so we settled for a picture.

(Why - yes! This is the very same Hovercraft that carried us to the village of Akiak where Josh proposed to me last April!)



The night continued with fireworks. And I introduced that poor duo to more people than they could possibly have dreamed they'd meet in such a short amount of time. And then I had to enlist their assistance in moving a stack of frozen lasagnas from one pick-up to my pick-up. And then, exhausted, we came home. And slept. Hard.

The next day, though, the adventure continued...........

The Akiak Dash !















As I near the end of this post, I must make a confession: this summary of Cousin Deirdre and the Fabulous Mike's visit is abbreviated. I am purposefully reigning myself in, lest I unleash the verbosity and gush about how much it meant to me that my cousin would travel so far, in winter, to visit us. In my determination to post something, I am not posting nearly enough to properly describe how fortunate I find myself to have a cousin that is also such a dear friend. But, like I said, I'm abbreviating here. Condensing all these days and adventures, and moments of gratitude, into one blog post.

But even with this quest for brevity, I would be remiss if I failed to make a few references to a legacy of cousinly rivalry.....more specifically, to a match of Scrabble and to a certain card game called Spit - actually, to a tournament of Spit that is well over a decade old!

Dear Dee - I do look forward to being 70 years old and still competing for the Ultimate Spit Championship!

Democracy in Action - Tom Style

Tom, very graciously, sent me several pictures of our local democracy in action.

But friends I can't post them.

Why?

It's quite simple - I can't bring myself to post all the pictures that he sent to me because I do not want you to be distracted from this one:






















It's Tom. Wearing one of Tom's home-sewn hats. Caucusing for Obama. At the Caucus. Wearing one of his home-sewn hats. He has a collection of them, by the by. And goggles. I like this photo. A lot. I'm also in a sustained effort to persuade Tom to become a professional hat maker. He should consider this paragraph part of that effort.

Ok. Fine. You're right. This is fun. I'll post a few more of Tom's photos, even if it could potentially distract you from the one above. But someone needs to explain to me why Tom doesn't have a blog himself. He has far too many photos and stories for his mere Friendster page.

Tom actually sent a bunch of great photos, including great photos of the Clinton and Kucinich camps. But, alas, I'm not sure whether any rules apply to the mixing of caucusing and blogging. And though I could act out of an abundance of caution, and simply seek out their permission, these were direct face-to-face photos and I find myself as equally reluctant to seek the permission of my neighbors to post their picture as I am to risk offending any of them for not doing so. All this is to say, that I ultimately hesitated myself out of posting those great photos.

Hopefully this photo by Tom will appeal to map-lovers everywhere, and make sufficient amends for my blogging cowardliness:

Super Tuesday !

A Pre-Post Postscript: I am going to do it again. Yes, folks, I am going to - again - interrupt the photographic tale of Cousin Deirdre and Fabulous Mike's trip to Alligator Acres in order to insert a random story of the day-to-day life since they (oh so sadly) left us to return to their urban adventures. Love me. Hate me. Be entertained. Be annoyed. But, in all cases, do forgive me - for the interruption, and also for interupting the interruption in order to apologize for interruptions.

Lest I lose you to my verbosity, I shall dangle a bit of a preview......to the left is a glimpse of what I still promise to provide as soon as I can get Blogger to permit me to upload the rest of the photographic evidence of their visit.

*************************************************************************************
After seeing my good friends' post about their experience with Democracy in Action ..... Unalaska style, I feel it is only fitting to post about:

Democracy in Action......Bethel Style!

Those who know me, or who have talked with me in the week since the announcements were first made on the one radio station that there would be a local Democratic Caucus, know that I have been very excited about this. Some of you have even received emails from me in which I talk about all the anticipation. Some of you have received emails in which I solicit opinions as to whether I should bring cookies or porkchops. Some of you received both.

The good news - what has me doing my daily cartwheel of glee - is that the actual experience far exceeded anything I could have imagined. I can't believe that I didn't discover this fine process until my thirties. My friends, I can't help but think that all primaries should be replaced by the caucus. The caucusing process might just be the key to restoring some genuine splendour and roots to American politics. It certainly did for me.

But the bad news is that I didn't bring cookies or porkchops. It is hard for me to admit this. Embarassing, actually. I brought, my friends, store-bought donuts. From Swansons. Go softly with me. I was sick the night before, and chained to my desk the day-of. The homemade contribution was, sadly, impossible. But the best news - and perhaps a contributing factor to why I so loved being a part of the evening - is that the Bethel Democratic Caucus was well-equipped with homemade foods - there was salmon dip, and bean soup, and a rice pot, and cookies, and salsas....and, yes, donuts. Noone knew how to get the coffee pots to brew coffee. But there was more than enough water to go around. The Obama table even brought fresh fruit and two veggie platters, and it was fun to see the kids running around, eagerly digging into a fruit bowl for apples.

The statistical summary of the evening is that the Bethel majority went for Obama. But there's always so much more to an event than its statistics and summaries, aye? There was quite a bit of debate, at the start, about how to determine the number of people in attendance. And then there was some debate about how to organize and assign corners so that the unexpectedly large number of attendees could stand in recognizable groups. Eventually, it was decided to divvy-up the room based on the 8 rafters in the ceiling to create 8 "stalls." And one person was assigned to each stall to hold up a sign of a different candidate. Most of the attendees were gathered in the stalls at the far ends of the room. There was a stand, however, in the middle of the room, for Kucinich. Sure, Kucinich has left the national presidential race. But he was still on the Alaska ballot. And a lot of people - seven or eight - decided to make a pitch for him. However, they did not have enough to meet the 15% requirement, and eventually those in the Kucinich stall had to disperse and select between the two candidates that did: Obama and Hillary. There was some banter across the room, and some stumping. Not alot, mind you. And I think it would have been better to have more. But there was some, and I definitely feel more involved in the political process for having witnessed it. Eventually everyone had staked their position and the numbers were counted. I don't remember the exact number of people in each camp, but I think it was something like 58 for Obama and 38 for Hillary. Ultimately, 8 Bethel delegates will be sent to the state convention to vote for Obama, and 5 for Hillary.

Unlike my good friends in Unalaska, I didn't get any photographs of the actual caucus. Fortunately, though, my buddy Tom did and it looks like he may let me post them here.

While I wait for them .......

I recommend listening to the local radio's coverage of the evening. I can't provide an actual link to the actual story, but I'm hoping that if - a little bit after Thursday morning's news - you click here and then click on "English news", it will include the story and interviews from the caucus. (It's my humble opinion, of course, but I do advocate for setting an alarm just to be sure you get to hear it!)

And here are some pictures of the context for the evening to tide you over until I get to post Tom's pictures.


Here is the flyer announcing the caucus.


















Here is a picture of the outside of the Imaculate Conception Church, where the caucus was held. I took it from the steps outside of Swansons, when I popped in to buy the donuts.

Here is a close-up. Do you see the map to the caucus?

The crowd starts to arrive...........

And here is Puck, at the end of the evening, playing politician. For the record, I did not take my dog to the caucus. But, with Pamela as my excuse, I felt like this would be a good way to sneak in a cute picture of him.

And here is a photograph that symbolizes a very big and earnest thank you to some very good friends out in the Aleutians!

(p.s. - are those MickeyD burgers at your caucus?)

Weather and Beans (and Truculence)

I am going to interrupt myself.

Rather than delve into my anticipated topic (that being Cousin Deirdre and the ever fabulous Mike snowmaching over Mission Lake, and across Chief Eddie Hoffman Highway, to Pat's house in Alligator Acres to meet Hugh Neff's dog team), I'm going to talk about the weather. And beans. And truculence. Why, you may be asking, would I interrupt the photographic tale of two Massachusett's kids coming all the way out to our little hovel on stilts to talk about weather and beans and truculence? I suppose there is no better answer to that very reasonable question than to simply say because the weather is crazy these days and the beans are delicious. (I'll let you mosey-on down to the bottom of this post, if you'd like an explanation for the truculence part.)

Seriously (and aren't I always serious?). It's been a crazy roller-coaster of weather out here. A string of craziness. Go back a few weeks - even just 2 - and we were stuck in a seriously cold snap - weeks of it - at 30 below. Indeed, it felt like months at 30 below, and it was so stubbornly and persistantly below 30 that our truck finally refused to turn over. The ultimate temper tantrum. It refused to run. It didn't give up the ghost, mind you. Rather, it refused to turn on until the weather warmed up. We waited a week for things to warm-up naturally. But such easy solutions did not come. The temperature remained below 30. Our patience was tested. Our optimism wilted. Forgive us - there are only so many times that you wanted to be walking to and from the A.C., in the 30 below, to bring home the necessary gallons of drinking water.

Eventually, we had to resort to diesel means. This is a picture taken of dramatic - and successful! - efforts initated by our neighbor to thaw-out our pick-up two Sundays ago:
















As only the Fates would have it, within a few days of all that effort, the temperature suddenly spirited up to the 20 Aboves. Snow started falling. All the wires and poles and shrubs around town were sparkling with a thick overlay of snow clinging to the white frost that originally covered them. Folks were giddy with the beauty of it all, and exuberant about the warmth. And I, myself, was even giddier with the thought that Cousin Deirdre and Mike were going to go back telling all my cousins that J. and I live in a veritable winter wonderland populated with ebulliently happy people. But it wasn't just perfect for my ulterior motives of persuading those cousins to come out and visit. We were also looking at perfect trail conditions for the K300.

If only we could have frozen still that temperature.

The temperature started increasing the day of the race start. Even so, the snow remained relatively solid, if not a bit more packed down into itself and less fluffy. We even had a flurry of snow as the mushers were making their way to the starting chute. (Why yes, I do have some pictures of Cousin Deirdre and the Ever Fabulous Mike, under the falling snow, at the starting chute, that I could post.......) There was no foreshadowing, at least to me, of what would come. But it kept getting warmer, until - finally - it rested at what I can only call a tropical blast. We were in the High 30 Aboves. Ominously, we occassionally tipped up towards the 40 Aboves. The snow started to get punchy. Then it just started to melt. The tundra started draining onto the frozen river. By late Saturday night (and growing worse with each minute into the wee hours of Sunday morning), the K300 trail conditions deteriorated, leaving us with puddles the size of Lower 48 lakes. I don't know this personally, of course. I was here in town. On the river, but in town. But I heard about it. If your curious for a first-hand description, you should click here for an audio clip in which the 2008 K300 champion gives a pretty good description of the chaos that a sudden 60 degree increase in temperature can inflict on trail conditions.

Suffice it to say, the 2008 Kuskokwim-300 will be going down in the annuals of history as the Kusko-Swim.

By Wednesday, however, we were back to Below 30's. The lakes atop the frozen river began freezing-up. And, since Thursday, we've been in blizzard conditions. I might go so far as to say that we've gained over a foot of snow this weekend.

I'm sure it says something about me, though I haven't had much time to thoroughly introspect it: I greeted the Below 30 temperature with more glee and exuberance, and sheer relief, than ever I thanked the Fates for a 30 Above. For many reasons. And then, as I mentioned above, we entered into a week of blizzard conditions. Frozen again. Covered, again, with snow. All in all, perfect conditions for scenic dog walks.




















































To truly ensure a bucolic dog walk in blizzard conditions, I made sure to have a pot of my favorite (delicious!) bean stew waiting for me when we returned:

Cannellini, Butternut, Kale and Kalamat Stew
adapted from epicurious

















I discovered this recipe over a decade ago, while living in Seattle and struggling with the financial realities of one's first formal job after college. For those who knew me during those days(or may still hold me accountable for that time that I'd do such things as lame myself by walking across Seattle in Italian boots with 3 inch heels in pursuit of farm fresh, organic chicken eggs, or nearly getting my roommate and I evicted from our Magnolia apartment for getting the scent of a tropical brewery stuck in the building's air-system as a result of my decision to try my hand at making a Peep's Poptart Porter....) I promise - it is more aromatically-pleasing than my experiments with Peeps Poptart Porter, much easier to shop for than a true crema inglese, and much easier to clean-up than a pasta-making party. To all, I promise that it will feed a surprised-to-be-so-happy crowd. And it's even better the day after.

1/4 cup olive oil
3 large onions, chopped
6 garlic cloves, minced
1 3 1/4- to 3 1/2-pound butternut squash, peeled, seeded, cut into 1 1/2-inch cubes
3 red bell peppers, seeded, cut into 1 1/2-inch pieces
1 1/2 cups canned chicken broth
1 1/2 large bunches of available winter greens (kale, chard, etc.- the important thing is that you cut the leaves crosswise into 2-inch strips; I tend not to add the ribs)
1 tablespoon dried rubbed sage
5 15-ounce cans cannellini (white kidney beans), rinsed, drained
1 cup Kalamata olives, pitted, halved
Freshly grated Romano cheese (if you have it - I didn't)

Heat oil in heavy large Dutch oven over medium-high heat. Add onions and garlic; sauté until tender, about 10 minutes. Add squash; sauté Add bell peppers and stir to coat with onion mixture. Add broth. Cover and simmer until squash is just tender, about 10 minutes.

Mix the winter greens and sage into stew. Cover and cook until the greens wilt, stirring occasionally, about 8 minutes. Add beans and olives and stir until heated through. Season to taste with salt and pepper.

Transfer stew to large shallow bowl. Sprinkle generously with cheese.


Postscript: As for talking about "truculence", I must confess that this subject in this post is a bald excuse to share with you this picture of Puck cuddling-up with me while I - settled into a luxuriously leisurely post-K300 Sunday morning - flipped open the ever-used American Heritage to research a word found in Profiles in Courage:

In case you are curious, truculence has the following meaning in the American Heritage Dictionary: A disposition or apparent disposition to fight, especially fiercely; Ferociously cruel actions or behavior.

Cousin Deirdre and Mike, On Snowmachines, and Traipsing Across the Kuskokwim River

Just how did we manage to get a baker and an accoustic engineer, both from Massachusetts, skating across the Kuskokwim River?

Cousin Deirdre and Mike arrived on a Wednesday afternoon. (Travelling with them on the afternoon jet were Jeff King and five other mushers, as well as their respective dog teams - oh! how I love the K-300 times!) It was a long trip for them - all the way from Massachusetts, with a few days layover in Seattle. They should have been tired. I should have been a good hostess, and offered them showers or naps. But, no....rather, J. took us home (and then returned to the airport to help Jeff King get his dog teams to his host family's residence) and I stood around rather helplessly as our dogs enthusiastically jumped in and squelched any chance they might have had for peace & quiet. (Puck, it seems, is madly infatuated with Deirdre and his own personal utopia undoubtedly includes endless opportunities to cuddle up on her lap; Clyde has tagged her as the best back-scratcher ev-ah.)

After a few hours of tossing balls for them, we took them out for a stroll along the river. And then we were jumping back in the pick-up (the truck-bed of which was filled with enough frozen lasagnas and cheesecakes to feed a crowd of 400 at the Musher's Banquet on Monday night), and rushing off to the Cultural Center to watch the much anticipated K-300 Benefit Concert: Kevin Morgan opened, followed by former Bethel resident Martha (Scott) Stey and her husband Jim, and highlighted by the arrival of Elias Venes on the stage.

And then, dear Cousin Deirdre and Mike, stayed around after the concert, standing by me as I handed out frozen lasagnas to all the gracious bakers that volunteered to bake them for the Musher's Banquet.

Suffice it to say, we were home late....and exhausted.

And though anyone would think they would be so exhausted from it all, I have to say that Cousin Deirdre and Mike were up before sunrise! I was in awe. We loaded up on coffee. We ate some toasted bread with apple butter and the blueberry jam that Genevieve and I made during her breeze through town at the end of summer. We bundled up. We warmed up the snowmachines.
And then we were out and about!

And that's how Cousin Deirdre and Mike came to be fearlessly traipsing back and forth across the frozen Kuskokwim River!

Cousin Deirdre's First Alaskan Adventure

Had I the technological wherewithall to do so, I would italicize the word "First" in that title above and thereby emphasize my commitment to persuading her to return.

But I don't.

Instead, I'm settling in for a long evening of Blogger Battle to see if I can't get it to let me post a few of the pictures from Deirdre and Mike's visit to our little perch in Western Alaska. Maybe, if I'm lucky, it will even let me post a bit of commentary! And, thus, shall I endeavour to persuade my dear cousin to return for a Second Alaskan Adventure......or [red rover, red rover] send Billy, Judi, Joyce or Sweet Pea right over.

In the meantime, here's one of my favorite photos of Cousin Deirdre in the Great White North.

Cousin Deirdre Has Arrived .....

and, oh!, is it fun to have her on the tundra island!

We've been putting Deirdre and Mike to work. The other night they were handing out frozen lasagnas in preparation for a musher banquet on Monday. This morning Mike pulled a car out of a ditch. The grateful driver (who wasn't wearing mittens and kept dodging my maternal instincts to give him a pair) offered Mike a free pizza. And Clyde and Puck have been showing them how they like to take their daily constitutionals along the river, and how they like their balls tossed at home. Clyde's managed to show Deirdre how he would like her to massage his back. (Tonight, he emphasized his preferences by sitting on her....with that Dee accent, she tried to remind him that he is not a lap dog.)

It's tomorrow, though, that the K-300 races - and their real work - starts.......

If ever I do it, I do hope that I manage to live up to this here promise to post pictures of Mike and Deirdre doing truck support and starting line support for Hugh Neff!

Our Highway is Officially Frozen

Wealthy in Good Living

I never made it out to pick cranberries this summer. I wanted to. I was even determined to. But I never did. I picked a lot of blueberries. But by the time the cranberries were ready, it seemed too wet. And cold. And, oh, how it rained - day, after day, for weeks. I guess I was lazy. Spoiled.

And I was kicking myself for my shortcomings - or, more specifically, about how my laziness was going to cost us a winter without wild cranberries - when I happened upon a 5 gallon bucket of them for sale! Oh, such treasure!

I bought it before anyone else had a chance to even glance at it!


I brought my bounty home, and promptly set aside a whole Friday night to clean and sort them!

Oh, it was fun! If one were to rank it, I think the evening would go right up there with the Saturday night last Spring that Hoppi and I cleaned smelt in her living room, whilst watching foreign movies, until 4 in the morning.

Ahhh, yes, my friends. There is something wonderful about a quiet weekend night immersed in chores that glow with such humble magnitude.


And here is Puck. He doesn't care much about the berries, but he's loving the snow-games that the neighborhood kids set up when it warms up to 10 above!

A Trip to Town (many months ago)

Months ago (and I do mean months), we went to a town....actually, we went to Girdwood - a little town outside of "town." Because Girdwood is on the road system, and that road system allows you to go from Girdwood to Anchorage within an hour, I call it part of "town."

In any event, I took a lot of pictures (and I do mean lots) during this trip. Oh, you wouldn't believe what good intentions I had to share them with you too! It was going to be good. But when I arrived back at home (a few hundred air miles from that road system I describe above), laden with the couple hundred of pictures I had taken, I learned a very valuable lesson: namely, classy cameras produce pictures that do not upload easily via dial-up internet service via [Russian?] satellite. Blogger and I waged a few mighty battles. And I sat at my laptop, waiting 2 or 3 hours for one picture to upload - only to have it suddenly time-out. Multiple times. (I can be stubborn that way.)

I was ready to give up. But then, a few months later, I was sent back to town. And this time I had the bright idea of packing my laptop and uploading the pictures whilst hooked-up to my hotel's fast-speed internet. It was a wonderful idea. And I'm sure it is one that I will try again. But it needs work....namely, I need to find the willpower to stay at the hotel, uploading pictures via the hotel's fast-speed internet, and not be completely and utterly distracted by all the opportunities to hang out with friends, and shop, and go to restaurants, and get my hair done, and all those other things I do when I go to town.

Suffice it to say, I didn't upload as many pictures as I had originally planned. But I did manage to upload a few. And I guess sharing them is as good a way of breaking my months of silence as any.

So..........

Here is the local airport - decorated by the sons and daughters of the local National Guard members who had just returned from a tour in Iraq the day before.

Here is the place we stayed:

Here is the scenery during one of my hikes whilst my significant attended a conference at the place we stayed:

Here is a picture I took whilst attempting to be artistic during my hike:

I drove into town a couple of times while we were staying at Girdwood. Anchorage, for me, represents a blend of breathtaking beauty and sprawl, and of tradition and chaos. I snapped the next few photos as part of my amateur efforts to try and capture some of that.

Here's a picture I snapped at the corner of Northern Lights and New Seward:

This picture is for Sonya - here's a picture of the coffeeshop from which I called and emailed you about going to dinner with the Vagabonds.

Here's a few more amateur effort to capture that Anchorage puzzle of grandeur and ordinary:

I took a little detour during my town antics for a little stroll around my old stomping grounds. Before I moved out here, I lived in Anchorage for about a year and a half. Here's the park where Puck and I did our daily walks - 3 times a day:

Here's a picture of the house that we'd pass during each of our walks - and that is, without a doubt, my dream house. Sadly enough, there is a movement abreast to replace it with condos. I hope that doesn't happen.