We can file this one under the heading: I didn’t see this coming.
On the eve of the President’s visit to Alaska, the White House announced on Sunday that Mount McKinley would officially be changed back to its Athabascan name Denali. Alaska has had a standing request to change the name since 1975 when the state legislature passed a resolution, and then-Governor Jay Hammond officially appealed to the federal government.
Alaskans have long referred to The Mountain as Denali, but Ohio politicians have blocked the official change for decades. The Interior Department cites a 1947 law that allows it to change names when the U.S. Board on Geographic Names refuses to act in “a timely manner”. The Board has been deferring to Congress since 1977 on the issue, which seems to qualify.
So I have this friend who is an excessive planner. If he ever got a tattoo, it would be of a calendar. He’s the type of guy that buys his Franklin Planners five years in advance, and follows them on Facebook. He subscribes to the app “What Happened on This Date 10 Years From Now”.
I have another friend who is visiting the area. The Excessive Planner bemoaned the fact that the visiting friend could not make plans with him months in advance, because he had to remain flexible. Upon hearing this, my feelings for the visiting friend went soaring. We’re talking Denali heights.
To celebrate the news, I went out and bought a planner for myself. It’s getting cooler out now, and I’m going to use it for firestarter in my wood stove.
Fighting to make life loose-goosey again.
I may have to make up a t-shirt.
When one does three weeks worth of laundry, and realizes that everything going through the washer & dryer is work clothes.
It may very well be time for a vacation.
I took on a painting job, even though I was far too busy to justify it, but I wanted the money. I sprayed out the ceiling and walls earlier in the week, and today I applied a coat to the bathrooms and kitchen via brush & roller.
Everything was going great, although the CDC did issue a warning when I pulled out the refrigerator and stove from the wall, but all I could see was the check at the end of the tunnel.
Then I reached the “master” bath. I’m not sure what the originally, invisible, film of toxic waste was on those walls, but it showed itself once the paint was applied. Okay, no big deal, I thought, that’s why they make Kilz Primer. So I started to apply that, and the toxic film ate through the Kilz quicker than a Great White goes through a seal pup. It was mortifying to watch, but I really became torqued when I realized the toxic waste had clung to the Purdy roller cover and I had to throw it away.
What was I thinking? I know better than to use a Purdy on a rental property.
An extremely frustrating turn of events, but it was 4:15pm and all I wanted to do was go home, open a beer and sit behind the Rover’s steering wheel and imagine that I was driving south, leaving the insane, “can you fit us in?”, mania that always hits just before the first autumn snowfall, well behind me.
I may be forced to mask off the tiny bath and spray the walls tomorrow morning, in an attempt to entomb the Blob’s spawn before it oozes out and ruins another perfectly good Purdy.
“I’m pretty sure it’s all there…”
The website Gawker has gone through the Ashley-Madison information dump, and they found that only three zip codes in the entire U.S. did not have any Ashley-Madison users on record. Three!
Two of those zip codes are in Alaska: Nikolai and Perryville. Populations of 94 and 113 respectively. Polvadera, New Mexico (population 269) was also on the list.
There are approximately 43,191 zip codes in the United States.
Old Ford trucks have been just coming out of the woods(work) lately here in the Interior of Alaska.
They seem to be everywhere as of late.