After eighteen weeks of Fall semester, we are rewarded with almost three weeks of slack time during which we are to renew our enthusiasm for the teaching profession, or at least recover from crushing frustration. It really isn't that bad. It's just cold, dark, windy, and there's no relief, as in geographical, so no skiing, unless I can get Foster a little more enthused about pulling me on skis. Being that he's a herding dog more than a mushing dog, while he's strong and perfectly capable of pulling me, he tends to prefer checking on my progress, giving me the opportunity to catch up. I find this to take away from the skijoring experience but he's okay with it.
We Got out of the village on Tuesday evening. Originally, we had a charter to share with a couple of other teachers but then the airline canceled it so we went seat fare, an hour or so later than we anticipated. This was no big deal, except that we went to the airport and waited in sub-zero wind until the plane finally did arrive. It was a little chilly but at least most of us were dressed for it. We spent the night in Bethel and caught the jet to Anchorage on Wednesday morning. We had almost nothing pressing to do in Anchorage so we spent the rest of Wednesday and most of Tuesday doing some rather halfhearted, even tentative shopping after we dropped Foster at Grant for his solo flight to Kenai where he's spending his Winter holidays. Everything went smoothly, which was relaxing in and of itself, since contingency planning is matter-of-fact where we've been living and working these past 11 years now. It's often aggravating but never boring.