On Friday night, I received some really crappy news. It was the kind of news that leaves you feeling anger and sadness with a touch of existential angst, so while the family went out to enjoy the Fur Rondy fireworks, I went home and watched The Pillow Book for… reasons (mainly catharsis, but also because it features Ewan McGregor naked; Show me your lightsaber, Master Kenobi!)
On Saturday I was still feeling miserable and all I wanted to do was read sad sci-fi short stories, but my pack of jackals had consumed all the leftovers in the house by dinner time. Since I was in no mood to cook, I decided on pizza from Mountain High Pizza Pie.
Choosing Mountain High is always a bit of a gamble. When they are good, they are great, but our last two experiences there were terrible. There was the case of our order getting burned, no one telling us, and me waiting for an HOUR for pizza with hungry children in the car. And the time when I called in a to-go order that was never given to the kitchen, only to show up and be given lip by the counter person about how she couldn’t understand me over the phone (she had read my order back to me perfectly, so that was a crock of shit if ever I heard one. Pro tip for customer service: always be honest. I am much more inclined to be understanding if you say you forgot to put my order in, rather than you blaming the phone connection. Taking ownership of mistakes goes a long way). All of this being said, it is never, ever too late for redemption, and Mountain High always redeems itself with an apology and a discount card. Mountain High is like a lover that hurts you some times, but you just can’t quit them.
Huge props to them being open during Winter, of course, and they participate in the community by doing things like a Halloween costume contest. Rigel won the contest this year, dressed as the demogorgon from Stranger Things.
Another huge plus of Mountain High is that they offer things besides pizza. You already know that I’m not keen on pizza, but I love me some gyro and falafel (both of which are on offer at Mountain High). Their falafel isn’t quite as good as my own (remind me to post my recipe some time), but a good alternative when I don’t feel like cooking. I guess the only thing I’m really angry about is not being able to get their Pierogi Pie in Winter; it’s the only pizza I will voluntarily eat.
Five cheese pizza, plus feta, green olives, and reindeer meat. 
Gyro.
With pizza and gyro acquired, I headed back to The Hills, only to get stuck behind this Moore’s Hardware truck.
Don’t get me wrong, I absolutely love Moore’s Hardware. I love walking in and everyone knowing exactly which bags of feed to ring up before I even say a thing. I love the friendly staff, the great selection, the fact that they will special order items for you, and that Moore’s is always the first to help out with community projects, BUT I sincerely hope that someone in charge (Hi, Doug, are you reading this?) has a chat with this driver. I know that the back roads are narrow at the moment, because D&S are doing a piss poor job, but I watched this driver force two cars to back up for at least 1/4 mile on Mastodon to Marcus, because he was driving in the middle of the road and wouldn’t move aside for the oncoming traffic. Wow, dude, that is really MESSED UP! That could have caused a really bad situation for these people. Where did you learn how to drive?!
My children are not picky, so they did not mind the lukewarm pizza on account of Bad Truck Driver. With the jackals fed, I was finally ready to sink back onto the couch with my book, but then this flashed across my screen:
Look, Mother Nature, I like getting pounded some times, but not like this! It’s March, can this be over already!? Ugh. Out here, a message like this means taking stock of your supplies and seeing if you need a run to Cubby’s, because you may have to spend the next day plowing a mile of The White Shit (and hoping D&S actually plows the borough roads, which we have already established is not a given). While I am always stocked on dry goods, I decided that I didn’t want to forego fresh foods for the next few days if the roads got bad, so I put my book aside and headed back out to the store. The snow had already started. The only fun thing about driving in snow is getting to pretend you’re flying a space ship at lightspeed.
Now, here is where the story gets really sad, folks: In the entry of Cubby’s I found an old lady leaning on a shopping cart. It looked like she was waiting for a ride. I struck up a conversation, mainly because she was blocking access to the shopping carts. She told me that she had come to Cubby’s on the Sunshine transit at 4 o’clock and that the driver had left her there. A Cubby’s employee who was going to be off shift at 6 had offered to take her home. This poor, old grandmother had been standing in the entry way for nearly two hours without anyone else offering her a ride home. Talkeetna, I am disappointed in you. While it was nearly six, I told her that I would take her home after my shopping if that turned out to be sooner than the employee of Cubby’s was off shift. I asked her where she lived and held my breath (I was a bit worried she would say “Trapper Creek” or “Willow”; I still would have taken her, but didn’t really want to drive that far in a snow storm). “Across from Skookum”. That is only 12 miles down the Spur, folks. Please tell me how this poor woman had stood there for nearly two hours without anyone taking her home, just down the road!? She was gone by the time I had paid for my groceries. God bless the Cubby’s employee who gave her a ride and pox on the transit driver who left her there to rot.
It’s been a hard Winter, and we’re still in the throes of it. Please, Talkeetna, look out for one another.
