My Subterranean Dwelling - Alaska

This was a mass email I put out on Thur, 13 March which has been edited a little.

Dear Friends,

Excuse the impersionaless of this letter but I did not want to write it several times.  I get questions every now and then about two things, one my so called subterranean dwelling and the other about Hooper Bay itself.  I have told some of you some things, some of you other things but none of you everything,  so....this will be the first part of what perhaps will be a two part letter, but who knows, I get very verbose now and then and it could be a three part letter rolled into one or I might not write another one at all.  Regardless if you get tired of reading this ditty just send it to cyber space but don't tell me.

We live in the basement of the school, but the school is build on a large mound (use to be a cemetery which could account for the strange noise we hear at night sometimes, but that is another story) so part of where we live does have an outside entrance.  The north side of our place looks out over one of the prettiest maintenance sheds one could ever hope to see.  I have often gazed at the the edifice and wished Shannon or Meghan could be here to paint a mural of a desert or tropical scene on the rustic plywood covering.  If you look to the right at eye level you See a just as pretty passage way to the trailer behind us and to the right.  Those who live in the trailer, George my teaching partner and his friend.  They really do have a good view once you look past the graveyard and junkyard, not to mention a bulk oil storage plant.  My magnificent maintenance shed saves me from such grandeur.

If you look over the passage way, which would be to the east, you can see the vast tundra and small mountains which are 40 miles away.  My adventures have not taken me there yet and I look at them with longing.  Between the maintenance shed and my backdoor is a small grass area I call the court yard.  You would not want to spend anytime there though but could sun bathe without being bothered if one had the mind to do so.

To leave or arrive by the above described door, at what I refer to fondly as my subterranean dwelling, you have to walk under two pipes, over one, turn right past the maintenance shed and then walk out onto the tundra, which of course you then immediately see the graveyard, junkyard etc.  Leaving by that rout is not altogether that difficult during the non snowing months, which means June to September, but during the winter months the snow piles up so much that you cannot get under the pipes unless you crawl because they are still to high to climb over, which at 55 I  am not really inclined to do anyway.

So that leaves the rear entrance.  When you leave by the rear entrance you go out through the room containing the washer, dryer and stand up freezer.  You go down a hallway that is twenty feet long, turn right to go down another plywood hallway a little longer and then turn left through a door into the boiler room.  There are pipes all along the path and because of cracks in the sides of the walls it is not unusual for snow to have drifted in.  It is like walking through a freezer.  The boiler room is an OK boiler room as far as boiler rooms go.  You have  your usual leaky pipes and strange noises, with strange looking tools about resting on the floor which you take care to step over, and different chemical products that must be dumped some where I guess.

You maneuver over some more pipes and odd looking wires, hoping they are not connected to the electrical system, through a door on the right and you feel relief at last.  You open the door and start up the flight of stairs.  Immediately before traipsing up the steps you look left and decide if you need any school supplies, note book, pencils because that is where the school supply room is kept.  You walk up 27 steps go out the door on the right and you are in the main school hallway.

The inside of our dwelling has been described in some stories I have written.  For those of you that have not gotten you copy yet let it suffice to say that we have 3 bedrooms, living room, kitchen, bathroom, informal dining room, utiltiy room and a mud room.  My moose head is hanging over the stone fireplace with a polar bear rug in front of the fire place just like the movies, which is just standard fair for this part of Alaska.

PS:  To my good friend Karen, please send this one back to me also.  Some of you remember Karen Shuttleworth.  She now lives in Tennessee.