Strolling

Liesel and I went into the office where I observed a new sport taking place on the skating rink in the park over the road.

Skater and stroller

Skating while pushing a buggy will be a Winter Olympics sport at some point, I’m sure. Maybe not as spectacular as Extreme Ironing, but it’s nice to be an observer right at the start.

While Liesel was sweating over a hot PC, I went for a shorter walk than planned, because, yes, it was cold, but the wind made it really unpleasant outside. I could feel my desiccated skin flaking off. I took respite in the library with a coffee. The homeless man rolled his own, put it in his mouth but didn’t get as far as lighting up, thank goodness.

Happy birthday Gideon! We went round to his house to celebrate and it was good to catch up with some folks I haven’t seen for a long time.

Gideon and cake

Here he is, slicing the cake that he baked himself, I think. Thanks, Jodi, for the photo!

Opportunities for a walk around the track in the Dome are now limited: our remaining time here in Anchorage is short. We did a few laps plus I spent a whole five minutes on the bike, on the hardest saddle known to humanity.

After Jyoti picked up her newly repaired car, she took me shopping at Carrs (hooray, my favourite occupation) and I realised how modern this place is. By the entrance are two vending machines. One will cut keys for you, fair enough, and on the other one, you can buy ₿itcoin. Of course, I should have bought one of those things ten or fifteen years ago, they’ve increased in value so much.

Keys and Bitcoin

Jyoti kindly gave me lunch at her place, tyvm. I introduced her to the latest series of Doctor Who, which she seems to be enjoying. The only problem was, neither of us could work out how to bring up the subtitles on Disney+.

After driving me most of the way, I bought a coffee from New Sagaya to take home. I walked over the road in slight drizzle which, within half an hour, had turned to snow. Oh, no, not more snow… But it didn’t last long.

Since we’re leaving the apartment soon, it’s time to unsubscribe from some services. My mission, which I accepted, was to cancel some of the TV services. You should be able to just click on a button that says ‘Cancel Subscription’, right?

One service that we signed up to to watch just one football game just once, we have to unsubscribe via a different site, which I don’t have the login detials for. So I’ve passed the buck to Aaron.

Apple+ TV provided the worst nightmare. You have to go to the website. The website was locked for security reasons. To unlock, I had to have Leslie’s phone number. Luckily, Leslie had left her phone at home while she went to work with Liesel. Ah, but Leslie’s phone didn’t recognise my face, of course. Luckily, I know the passcode. I unlocked whatever it was that was locked. Then I had to sign in again. Then I had to receive a code on her phone and type it in on the website on my phone. Then, I was granted access to the golden ‘Cancel Subscription’ button. Which worked. I screenshot the confirmation because, for some reason, I have zero faith in this whole ridiculous system.

By comparison, Netflix was a breeze. The website did complain that my browser was out of date (a lie) but I had access to another one. Cancel, you say? Of course, sorry to see you go. Easy, straightforward.

One more session at the Dome, but I didn’t bother with the bike this time. Jyoti again drove me home, she’s a star. I had coffee, she had chai. Meanwhile, Leslie went over to friend Shyla’s place to help prepare for Thanksgiving dinner. All the local turkeys were looking worried.

Black Friday and if it weren’t for the zillion TV adverts and posters and fliers, social media posts and Leslie’s junk mail brochures, I don’t think I would have noticed. We visited the Museum again, this time for Crafted in Alaska, to browse through a curated selection of handmade treasures, from jewelry and textile art to pottery and printed designs at the Museum’s annual holiday craft event.

Atrium and crafty people

There are some very talented craftsmen and women around the state and there’s a a lot of support for this Thanksgiving weekend event. Wandering round the Museum, I learned that we were a mere 1,998 miles from the North Pole.

And, while I’ve been taking pictures of unusual, special car number plates for a long time, I didn’t realise that if I’d ripped off and saved tha actual plates, I could have had a display in a Museum. Like this chap did:

Registration number plates

The music, very gentle music, was provided by Denise Martin on hammered dulcimer and, on guitar, Jim Kerr. He’s done very well since leaving Simple Minds.

Denise Martin and Jim Kerr

Having not used the car for a whole day, it surprised us when it didn’t start. Again, the battery is totally dead. So again, we asked Monica if we could borrow hers for just one more day. While waiting in the foyer for Monica and Gregg to pick us up, I thought, I haven’t taken a selfie for a while. So here it is.

Selfie of the day

We enjoyed dinner at My Shawarma where even I used my hands to eat the vegetable injera, and, several hours and washes later, I can still smell the spices on my fingers. If they ever need a tune for an advert, I know just to song to murder: My Sharona by The Knack.

Phil was with us too, while Una was in California, and he led the way to 907 Alehouse and Grill for some musical entertainment.

The band, I Like Robots, plays popular songs from the ’80s and I was surprised to see people actually dancing. I was even more surprised when Monica, Jyoti and especially Liesel ran onto the dancefloor! I stayed behind to, er, look after the coats, yeah, that’s it.

John, I’m only dancing

I confess, I did sing along a bit and tap at least one of my feet while they played songs from Pet Shop Boys, Prince, Paul Simon and many more.

I Like Robots

Even though we got to bed later than usual, this librocubicularist managed to read a few pages before visiting the land of nod. One thing I’ve noticed is that we never hear the sound of birdsong from this apartment. I know, if they’ve got any sense, they’ll all have migrated south, but it’s still an eerie silence sometimes.

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Author: mickandlieselsantics

We are a married couple, one American, one Brit, one male, one female, neither of us as fit as we would like to be, well over 100 years old altogether.

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