Showing posts with label alaska. Show all posts
Showing posts with label alaska. Show all posts

Thursday, March 14, 2013

Seminar at Perserverance Theatre

Boston Christopher sings in his role as writing instructor Leonard.

Theresa Rebeck's witty new comedy, Seminar moved so quickly that I didn't notice an hour and forty five minutes had passed without an intermission.   An introspective discussion on the concept of truth, the dialogue sparkles likes conversations found at only the best dinner parties.

Perseverance Theatre is known for showcasing new plays and filling the roles with Alaska's best actors. This recipe serves them well here.  Seminar opened on Broadway late in 2011, and the Alaskan cast takes these fresh ingredients and creates a rich and adventurous meal that is sure to  please the most sophisticated pallet.

Director Cynthia Croot keeps the pace fiery, pouring the saucy dialogue over suggestive action.   As a writer, the characters were familiar and relatable.  Like Croot, I found myself thinking of my own literary mentors as the play developed.  They challenged the precepts I based my world view upon, defined integrity, and offered an understanding of human frailty and passion that has served me well.

Art Rotch offers a lovely inviting set that strongly supports the suspension of disbelief that transports us from a rainy Juneau evening to a rent controlled palace in New York City.

Corin Hughes-Skandijs embodies Douglas, a pretentious, self important ass who demonstrates a competency that is commercially viable - if he is willing to embrace the lucrative lure of the shallow end of the pool. 

Enrique Bravo nails the insecurity masked by bravado of Martin, who bounces between the extremes of a young man searching to find his better self.   Those of you who remember Bravo from Bigfoot will find this role a far better illustration of the breath of emotional reach this actor has to offer.

Allison Holtkamp seduces us as Izzy, a hot-to-trot opportunist who knows how to tie the knot and fluff out the bow to make a package sexy.  Bumping into her at the State Capital where she staffs the Senate Finance Committee is a bit disarming, the extreme opposites of her real world day job and her work on stage illustrates the strength of talent of this hysterically funny actress.

Meredith Hinkley Schmidt is new to the Juneau stage, and demonstrates a lovely chemistry with Holtkamp.  Kate is the glue that holds the semi-autobiographical story line together, and Hinkley Schmidt prosecutes the evolution of the character in an authentic and compassionate manner.

Boston Christopher delivered in Leonard - a greying idealist who has grown world wise by paying his dues, taking a few in the teeth, and reaffirming the important of reflection on the road to self discovery.  It's been a couple decades since I have had the pleasure of watching Christopher work on-stage, he has lived up to the exceptional promise of his youth.

Extra credit bonus points go to stage manager Nikki Dawson, who is kind enough to pack patrons into her Subaru at the end of the night and drive them back to their hotel.

It is a crime against humanity that this production isn't touring the state.  Ready audiences could be found who would appreciate the lively and engaging wit, the relevant and meaningful themes, and the high end production values that this effort brings to life.  Seminar makes my heart recall the heyday of regional theater, when Alaska was strong and bold in her productions, and her companies recognized as the best in the nation. 

Tuesday, January 10, 2012

Wasted Breath, Relationship Advice from Dorene Lorenz


Q: My longtime girlfriend was diagnosed with MS, and has had several significant attacks this year. We are both in our late 30s. She is wanting to have a child because she heard that being pregnant abates the disease for a while. I am wanting to marry her and take care of her, but I don’t want any children, and I told her that.


She disappeared. 


We used to talk several times a day, everyday, for over a decade. She hasn’t spoken to me in a week. I understand that she has started seeing this guy that we know from the gym, and things have gotten far, fast. She won’t come to the door, she won’t return my calls.


In my last message I told her that I appreciated all that she had done for me through the years, all that she has done to shape the man that I have become. If she wants to date someone else, that is her right, but I wish she would just let me know she is okay and start communicating with me.


What can be done?


A: You need to give her some space. She is obviously at a cross roads in her life. She is rejecting her current unpleasant reality, and trying to create a new world of hope and possibility.


This isn’t about you, this isn’t about him. This is all about her. She is someone who thought they had a lot of good years left who has now discovered they are on a slippery slope to a poor quality of life, perhaps a quality that for her is unlivable. This isn’t an easy thing to accept.


You have been with her a long time. You are associated and woven into the fabric of this ugly reality. You don’t offer hope, hence the appeal of the new man. He does.


Hope goes a long way. It doesn’t take away the MS and the inevitable conclusion of that road, but it does offer something that has real value to someone in this position: meaning. 


She wants to know that her life meant something, that she has added value to the world, that a part of her is going to be loved, appreciated, and cherished long after she has left us.


The appeal of a child goes a lot further than nine months without pain. That is something she needs, and, apparently, something you can’t give her. This is one of those conflicts that is a deal breaker.


It isn’t about love, I am sure she loves you. I am sure she appreciates all that you have to offer, and the history that you have shared. I am also sure of this universal truth: just because someone isn’t giving you what you need, doesn’t mean that they aren’t giving you all they have to offer.


If you can’t give her what she needs, a child, with kindness give what you can offer. Give her space to find her way. Give her peace, stop trying to contact her. Give her validation, by supporting her in her choices – no matter how painful they may be to you.


She knows your number, she knows where you live. Be a gentleman, and when the time comes that she takes a breath, does some reflecting, and realizes she misses you – she will find you. 


Accept her friendship back with open arms unconditionally, new man or no new man attached. This may be days, weeks, months, or years from now – and how long it is going to take has a lot to do with you. The more space you give her, the more understanding you are, the sooner it will happen.


In the meantime, keep yourself busy. Go to a new gym. Make new friends. Explore new adventures. Your life has been all about her for years, reclaim it. Discover who you are now, what you are about, and what your life sans-girl looks like. You may find out that her leaving has opened the door to new possibilities that are greater than you ever dreamed. 

Sunday, December 04, 2011

Kinyarwanda


Kinyarwanda PosterThere is a humanistic point of view that is rarely reflected on screen, but is celebrated when well executed.  It is when we are allowed to discover all that we have in common through the process of dissecting all that is different between us.
Using the cross-story telling vehicle that director Paul Haggis mastered in the Oscar winning Crash, Kinyarwanda turns its brilliantly diverse kaleidoscope on the Rwanda genocide of 1994.
With compelling sensitivity, director Alrick Brown offers reference points of understanding for the unspeakable horrors of those brutal 100 days of mass murder.
The meaningful beauty of the human existence: love, kindness, respect, and good will are brushed with a master’s hand on disturbingly vibrant canvas.  This film will not leave you, because you won’t want it to.  It’s kindness is to elegant to fade away.

Tuesday, October 12, 2010

Sterling Challenge

Reading my latest issue of Backyard Poultry I noticed an ad from Greenfire Farms that rather struck my fancy with its snazzy layout.  What I discovered was nothing short of inspirational.

They carry an exceptionally rare breed of chicken native to Sweden called the Hedemora that lays eggs to 5 degrees and forages to -5 degrees. Same latitude and weather conditions as...Anchorage, Alaska.

That got my attention.  I searched the net over and found out more about this very compelling breed, and found a lot to like.  And a lot to think about.

What if we can one up the Swedes by developing a bird in Alaska that not only lays in cold climates, but lays exceptionally rich chocolate shelled eggs, and is a larger-better eating bird?

Of course, I immediately rang my favorite breeder, Tori Yancy at Sterling Meadows Hatchery, and suggested we develop a breed we call the Sterling.

When I visited Tori last week she showed me a splash Orphington hen that was nothing short of wonderful.  She was gentle, soft, fluffy, and beautiful.  Orphingtons have a unique body shape, and small combs that are less likely to get frostbitten.  Ring any "foundation stock" bells?  Sterling roses are a blue lavender color and smell exceptionally sweet, why shouldn't Sterling chickens be the same way?

I put some money down on an order for the Alaska Hamptons.  I want Sterlings to be our signature bird, and carry a flock of 50 or so breeding stock to launch the breed.  Tori has agreed in concept to take up the challenge, warning that it will take several years to perfect the Sterling Special.  Currently, Buckeyes are the only bird breed credited to being developed by a woman - today we are starting out on changing that. You heard it here first!

Monday, October 11, 2010

Sarah Palin: Star of the North

Like most of my ideas for paintings, inspiration came organically through a rather predictable route.

Two great statemen were lost, legendary icons in Alaska - Wally Hickel and Ted Stevens.  There was much discussion around their passing, and I woke one morning with a clear focus on my "take aways" from these two.

Both had something more than my Stars of Gold series in common, an uneasy relationship with Sarah Palin.  Wally had championed her early on, then walked away.  Ted had been kicked in the ribs by her several times when he was down, but didn't punish the State for the blows he got from her Governor.  They were steady men.  Hardworking.  Dependable Pioneers of the Greatland.  Both had war raged against them by Sarah Palin.

Sarah Feuds.  Seemed to me that she had a few, so many, in fact, she could wave a flag full of them on her battlefield.  A Feud Flag.  I had no idea what I had gotten myself in to.

I first heard of Sara when my step-father, Tom Walker, was Chief-of-Police in Seward.  Apparently, she had unceremoniously dumped the Wasilla chief shortly after being elected mayor.  Didn't sit to well with Tom.  She kicked the Wasilla librarian as well. Then there was that bit with Randy Reudrich, and Andree McLeod, Zane Henning, and lets not forget Frank and Lisa Murkowski.  She could run stripes with their names.

Mike Wooten, Lyda Green, John Bitney, John McCain...then I hit the motherload with a Google search. Newt Gringrich, Kate Gosselin, Steve Schmidt, Emily's List, John Kerry, Scott Brown, Frank Bailey, John Kerry, Rahm Emanuel, the National Organization for Women, The Family Guy, Oprah, Asley Judd, Arnold Schwarzenegger, David Letterman, Dan Fagan, Joe McGinniss, the US Export Import Bank, President Obama, Levia Johnston and lets not forget Katie Couric - who started it first, after all, with that stupid "what do you read" question.

Val Henning was right, who hasn't Sarah Palin had a feud with?  I've got the study finished, but I think I am going to need a much bigger canvas for the final.

Wednesday, September 29, 2010

Moose Chili and Salsa Dancing with Sarah Palin

Excited to be showing again in Anchorage this year.  This exhibition combines two of my related Sarah Palin-inspired series that are specifically designed to provoke shock, arouse excitement, stimulate discussion, challenge newly formed cultural myths, and explore whether the publicly titillating figure of Sarah Palin whetting national interest in Alaska through her effrontery is really a positive for the state.


It is being held on Friday, October 15th from 5-9 pm at Club Soraya, which is located at 333 West Fourth Avenue in Downtown Anchorage, Alaska.  


I am thrilled about the Moose Chili development.  Cooking instructor, columnist, caterer Suzette Lord, the author of Suzette's Alaska Cooking and Suzette's International Cooking, is going to host the People Choice Award for the Moose Chili Cook off.  She will offer commentary on the top three chili placers, and be the breaker should there be a tie.

Friday, August 06, 2010

Martin Luther King Avenue is Hooey

Let me get this out in the first sentence, no disrespect to Martin Luther King.  He is a larger-than-life iconic character backed by a great public relations machine.  
That said, comparatively, King didn’t do much for me, and I find it offensive that Anchorage has just named a major byway after him.
“Don’t say such things, it isn’t worth offending the masses and forever being known as a King-hater,” a no-doubt wiser-than-me friend suggested.  
Why should I worry about offending people who don’t worry about offending me?  And I don’t hate Dr. King, what I hate is that in pushing him forward into the limelight we are pushing worthy Alaskans further into the shadows.  
Alaskans who are just as deserving as Dr. King, in some ways more so.  Alaskans who should be uplifted and revered on their home court before a man who never stepped foot on our soil.
Elizabeth Peratrovich comes quickly to mind.  I don’t need Dr. King’s civil rights movement because Peratrovich  broke trail in Alaska while King was skipping out on his high school prom to attend Morehouse College.
Peratrovich.  An Alaska Native.  A woman.  Two steps below a black man in the world of discrimination.  
Peratrovich didn’t have bus loads of people standing behind her when she walked up the capital steps to face a room full of cranky white guys who weren’t worried about offending her.    Peratrovich bravely provided testimony which cultivated passage of Anthony Dimond’s Anti-Discrimination Bill in 1945.  
Anthony Dimond.  Great guy.  Not an Alaska native.  Not a woman.  I am sure you have heard of the name as there is a nice major road named after Dimond on the southside of Anchorage.  Forgive me, I digress.
No, Peratrovich was pretty much standing alone on that day.  She was beautifully eloquent.  She was full of the conviction.  Her dream became the reality that I have lived, and I am very grateful for that.  
A small percentage of Alaskans even know Peratrovich exists, and she isn’t even close to being a contender nationally.  Naming a major byway after our home grown civil rights leader is the least we could do.
Colonel Norman Vaughan is another glory stealer.  Now I am not dishing Vaughan.  I knew him, I enjoyed the hell out of him, I think he is wonderful.  
If you talk about Alaskan heros of exploration, Vaughan is the first guy to be mentioned in almost every conversation.  Man has a mountain named after him, for Pete’s sake.  In Antarctica, where he did his exploring, on the other side of the planet.
No one mentions Ada Blackjack.  Blackjack was the sole survivor of an arctic expedition in the early 1920s.  A city girl who was hired as a seamstress, she didn’t know how to hunt, trap, fish, shoot a gun, or live off the land.  
When the other members of the party left her behind to tend to an expeditioner who eventually died of scurvy, Blackjack had to survive the arctic winter alone in a canvas tent with little food and lots of polar bears.  
Blackjack demonstrated in her character a deep well of faith, loyalty, courage and determination.  A true hero of arctic exploration.  An Alaska Native.  A woman.  A person who felt the sting of discrimination often in her lifetime.
Who learns about Blackjack in school?  Where is the Blackjack monument?  Blackjack building?  The major road in Alaska’s largest village dedicated to Blackjack?
I wish it were just Blackjack and Peratrovich that are getting the short end of the stick, but they are just at the top of a long list of Alaskans who aren’t getting the honor they deserve.  With name recognition more outwardly aware types might at least ask  “Who was Benson, Klatt, O’Malley, or Spenard?”  No one knows to ask, “Who was Blackjack?” and so her remarkable story to lost to most.
I am all for giving snaps to Dr. King in his hometown.  Bully for him.  But this is Anchorage, Alaska.  We should acknowledge the honors and achievements of Outsiders after we have distinguished our own.  It is the least we can do.  

Sunday, April 04, 2010

"Cook"ing up the Orphington


Photos and Story 
By Dorene M. Lorenz
In 1886, a large, bold, upright chicken stratched its way into being.  English enthusiast William Cook wrote in the Fanciers Gazette that he crossbred Black Minorcas with Black Plymouth Rock, then crossed the progeny with clean-legged Langshans to create the Black Orpington.  The end result was a table fowl with excellent meat, a prolific winter production of brown eggs, easy to breed and fast to grow. 
Cook was born in St. Neots, Huntingdon, England in 1849.   He worked as a coachman in Chislehurst, Kent at the age of 14, but the poultry on a neighbor’s farm soon caught his attention.  Cook and his wife, Jane, moved to Tower House in Orpington, Kent, and began to breed chickens, two daughters, and three sons. 
The business of William Cook and Sons grew to include a London office at Queens Yard, 105 Borough London SE.  Cook invested his time in publishing his magazine, Poultry Journal, giving lectures, writing Poultry Keeper's Account Book, making an intensive study of poultry diseases, and selling medicines, food, and fattening powder.
Cook’s birds were introduced into various Dairy shows in England, and won much acclaim.  At the 1886 Chrystal Palace Poultry Show, Cook won grand prize for his Black Orpington pullet.  By 1888, Orpingtons were given their own classification, and Cook’s bird took home the cup. 
1890 was a big year for the Orpingtons.  The Cook family moved to Walden's Manor, which they renamed Orpington House, and Cook’s eldest child, Elizabeth Jane, took over the operation. Single Comb Black Orpingtons were first exhibited in America at the Massachusetts Poultry Association Boston Show, and the first consignment of Black Orpingtons were also imported to Australia. 
In 1894 Cook created his most popular Orpington, the Buff, which became the symbol of the Orpington Rugby Football Club. The Buff was produced from crossing the Golden Spangled Hamburg with the Buff Cochin and Dark Dorking breeds. 
Buff Orpingtons were one of the most popular varieties.  Mature Buffs typically start laying at six months, producing large brown egg every two to three days.

1897 saw the introduction of the introduction of the Speckled or Porcelain Orpington, which was named “Jubilee” after the Diamond Jubilee of Queen Victoria, who accepted a pen of these birds. The Buff Orpington Club was founded in 1898.  The late H M Queen Elizabeth The Queen Mother was Patron of the Club and showed regularly.
Cook and his children continued breeding Orpingtons to other color variations including Blue, Mottled, Spangled, Red, Partridge, Birchen, Chocolate (Bantam only), Cuckoo, Gold Laced, Lavender, Lemon Cuckoo, and White.
Cook made a large exhibit of Black Orpingtons at the 1895 Madison Square Garden Show in New York, but they were slow to gain popularity.
In 1896, four Blacks were exhibited at New York by C. S. Williams of New Jersey. William McNeil of London, Canada entered one Black cockerel at the Boston show in 1897, and five Blacks were shown in New York, by George M. Shaw in 1898.  A careful examination of records shows no other entries at poultry exhibitions in the United States.
New Jersey’s Wallace Willett wrote that in October of 1897 Farm Poultry printed a picture of William Cook and his Black and Buff Orpingtons, along with Editor A. F. Hunter’s account of meeting Cook and touring of his Orpington poultry farm.
Hunter said that Cook's business included the shipment of 10,404 sittings of eggs in nine months. This instantly gave Willett “Orpington fever”, and he immediately took steps to import two sets of Black, Buff and White Orpington eggs from Cook. 
Previous to 1898, perhaps a dozen Blacks had come to America.  Willett imported the first of Cook’s Buff and White Orpingtons into the United States, but he wasn’t the first New Jersey boy with skin in the Buff Orpington game.  
New Jersey’s Charles E. Vass imported Buff Orpingtons from another successful English breeder, and was the first to exhibit them in America at a show in Pennsylvania. Vass made two entries at Boston, and he and his neighbors made seventeen entries when Single Comb Buff Orpingtons were first exhibited at the Madison Square Garden Show in 1899.
There were 43 entries at the New York show in 1900.  Willett made his first exhibit at Madison Square Garden, winning two firsts with his two Cook Blacks and nothing with his two Cook Buffs.
In 1901, Vass, Willett, and Doctor Paul Kyle increased their entries to nineteen single and one pen of Buffs.  Orpington fever took hold in America.  By the 1910 New York Show, 157 Single Comb Buff, 122 Single Comb Black, 134 Single Comb White, 17 Diamond Jubilee, 5 Spangled, 25 Rose Comb Buff, 13 Rose Comb Black, and 5 Rose Comb White Orpingtons were exhibited, for a total of 478 Orpingtons.  
Orpingtons have a wide chest, broad back, and a relatively small head, comb, and tail; a combination which creates gentle contours that are attractive to the eye. Soft, profuse feathering, which almost hides the legs of the bird, creates a curvy shape with a short back and U-shaped underline. A heavy bird at eight to ten pounds, its fluffy feathers make it look distinctively large.
In 1902, Cook was honored with an award of the Poultry Club Medal.  His thriving business interests included poultry farms from South Africa to America. 
A New York Times article that ran on January 10, 1903, covering the New York Poultry, Pigeon and Pet Stock Association Annual Show at Madison Square Garden read:
“William Cook of Kent England, who has been very successful in the matter of prizes, spoke highly of the American judges and the American breed of poultry yesterday.  He said that the judges here were vastly superior to those who officiate in the majority of poultry shows in England, and that their awards were in every instance very satisfactory.  The Cooks, father and son, had a large number of Orfingtons on exhibition, and they won twenty-three first and seventeen second prizes for birds, and a first prize for eggs.  In two classes they were beaten by the birds shown by the Willow Brook Farm, Berlin, Conn., which was awarded first prizes for its single-comb buff Orfington pullet and cock.”
Cook arranged his great string of English Orpingtons in a clever manner at one end of the show’s big arena, and the fulsome press notices of his exhibits in the daily papers launched a real Orpington boom in the United States and Canada.  
Willett wrote that “as an advance agent, William Cook was in a class by himself; as a salesman he was a star, the prices realized by him for Orpingtons at that memorable show being exceedingly high. The purchasers were men of wealth, as a rule, who realized that aside from the fancy end, it would be a good business investment as well. A study of the comparative growth in popularity of Orpingtons…will justify the judgment of these shrewd fanciers who bought at that time.”
Orpington fever was running high when William Cook died in 1904.  Cook was sick when he returned to England, went for a brief holiday to Skegness, took ill on the day after his arrival, and died from emphysema.  He was buried with his wife in Star Lane Cemetery. 
Wallace P. Willett became the editor and publisher of "The Orpington." He and Charles Vass, Dr. Paul Kyle, Frank W. Gaylor and William Davis were the early pioneers of the breed in America. 
Few believed at the time that Orpingtons would thrive in a commercial climate in the United States.  Objections to chicken with black legs and white skin were lodged against Black Orpingtons, and later the white or pink legs and white skin of Buff and White Orpingtons were considered a serious marketing handicap as Americans demanded yellow-skinned and yellow-legged poultry.
Cook’s masterful promoting and advertising for the breed was at work in England, Australia, Africa, and America.  He took full advantage of great quantities of free advertising by cleverly writing on poultry topics, and demonstrated his shrewdness as a breeder and dealer as well.  
With a blind eye to its defects, and a loud voice shouting its superior qualities, the result of Cook’s efforts was that for a while Orpingtons were the most popular fowl in England, and White Orpingtons were dangerous rivals of the American Plymouth Rocks, Wyandottes , Rhode Island Reds, and Leghorns.
In Australia, the Black Orpingtons were bred with the Australian Lanshans.  In a 1922-3 Papanui Test, a Orpington hen named Kismit Dot laid 342 eggs in 51 weeks.   In 1923, Australorps Farms Ltd. imported the birds back to England.  The Poultry Club refused to recognize them as a separate breed, first calling them Austral Orpingtons, and finally Australorps. 
Elizabeth Jane Cook married R. Wakeman Clarke, and ran William Cook and Sons until 1933.  She exported birds all over the world, and was one of the first to use airlines for shipping fowl.
The Orpington is a highly intelligent and docile bird and is suitable for families with small children.  Hens mature at a young age, will set and rear chicks on their own if allowed to do so, and are attentive mothers. 
Orpingtons are a cold-hardy breed and thrive well in both confined spaces and as free-range birds. They lay between 110 and 160 light brown eggs year round.  Still considered a multi-purpose bird, it is bred for meat and egg production as well as for show purposes. 
Orpingtons are listed as “Recovering” by the American Livestock Breeds Conservancy, “Endangered” by the UK’s Rare Breed Survival Trust, and they are at Number Five in the Rare Breeds Trust of Australia’s Poultry Top Ten.

Wednesday, August 12, 2009

Granny's New Pad is Cooler Than Yours


By Dorene M. Lorenz
Alaska Standard Contributer

Alaskans are on the verge of a cultural shift - threatening to send your non-compliant parents to a nursing home isn’t going to work any more, they will prefer to live there than with you.

Blame it on the new Seward Mountain Haven Long Term Care Facility. This small, picturesque, and quirky community decided that it likes the old and infirmed, and that they deserved a better level of care than what was currently available in the Alaskan market. Seward discovered the innovative Green House Model of elder care, an approach Seward City Finance Director Kris Erchinger feels is more humane.

“They are not called patients or residents, they are called elders,” advises Erchinger. “And in a nutshell, that is the difference between this facility and most others. The Green House Model restores dignity by returning them to a homelike environment.”

Developed by Dr. William Thomas, the Green House model creates a small intentional community for a group of elders and staff that focuses on the relationships that flourish during the last stage of ones life.

A radical departure from traditional models, the primary purpose of Seward Mountain Haven is to serve as a place where elders can receive assistance and support with activities of daily living and clinical care, without the assistance and care becoming the focus of their existence.

It is intended to de-institutionalize long-term care by eliminating large nursing facilities and creating warm, habilitative, social settings.

Seward’s old long term care facility, the Wesley Rehabilitation and Care Center, was like most in the state. Staying there was like staying in an old hospital. The institutional facility consisted of two buildings located under the dark shadows at the base of a mountain, which served well beyond their effective life spans.

According to the City of Seward, the buildings house mechanical and electrical systems for which parts are no longer available. Some portions of the buildings have been closed to access due to serious safely concerns, including structural collapse of one section of the building.

So when it came time to re-build, it also became time to re-locate the new facility to a prime residential neighborhood known as Forest Acres; a large sun-soaked campus with breathtaking views of the surrounding mountains and old growth spruce forest.

The Providence Hospital website says that Seward Mountain Haven will offer all the quality medical services of an institutional nursing facility in the setting of a traditional home – with a hearth, a shared dining room and kitchen, private bedrooms and bathrooms.

The flat roofed cement block buildings have been replaced by what appears to be upscale houses with massive timbers, wood shingles, and large divided-light windows. Gone is the institutional kitchen that filled plastic trays three times a day, replaced by residential-style kitchens with granite countertops and a warm fireplace.

The Green House Model is a change in not only the architectural approach, but also organizational structure, staffing patterns and the philosophy of care.

“What I like most about this project is that it returns freedom of choice about care,” explains Erchinger. “If you feel like folding socks or baking cookies you can. You get to pick what color your room is painted. You can bring in your own furniture and decorations for your bedroom. The house gets to decide if they want pets or a piano.”

Having elders active in making decisions most of us take for granted, such as planning menus and activities, and controlling their own schedules, has been proven to be beneficial to overall health. A University of Minnesota study found that Green House elders reported less decline in late-loss activities of daily living such as bed mobility, transfer, eating, and toileting.

Compared to those in traditional nursing care settings, they had less prevalence of depression, increased sense of privacy, dignity, and individuality, and more meaningful activity, relationships, and food enjoyment.

Green House elders were also found to experience more active participation by family members and better relationships with direct care staff. Generally, the study found that elders who lived in Green House homes experienced a better quality of life and improved health, and that is the kind of care Seward felt it needed to offer its community.

“A lot of the bureaucracy is eliminated,” explains Erchinger. “The caregiver closest to the elder has the most say in how care is given. The decision making is directly tied to the wants and desires of the individual.”

So if an elder wants pancakes for breakfast at 11:00 a.m., instead of eggs at 8:00 a.m., they can expect the pancake brunch at a well set table with music, flowers, and good conversation with people who care about one another.

If someone wants to read a book while looking out the great room’s expansive windows onto the beautiful scenic vista at midnight, it is okay. The elder is free from the limitations of an institutional schedule and lives a comfortable daily life - sleeping, eating, and engaging in activities as they choose.

Families are encouraged to share meals, participating in activities, volunteer time and services, and help the elder to decorate their personal space. Well-behaved family pets also are welcome to visit if elders in the house have no medical restrictions.

There is easy access to all areas of the house including the kitchen, laundry, outdoor garden, and the patio. Safety features are built into the house to minimize injury.

“Tracks in the ceiling can be used to assist in lifting an elder out of bed and into the shower, significantly lowering the risk of accident and injury to both patients and caregivers,” suggests Erchinger. The small size of the Green House home promotes less use of wheelchairs.

A $1.6 million Denali Commission grant covered planning and design on the 34,000 square foot facility that would house 40 residents in four separate Green House Model homes. The bulk of the remainder of the $29 million cost was financed by the City of Seward via revenue bonds.

The Wesley’s current resident population consists of around 30 individuals, 90% of whom come from other Alaskan communities. The Wesley serves a unique niche in Alaska, as it includes patients with multiple and physical diagnoses, patients whom no other Alaskan facilities will admit. They are all scheduled to move over to Seward Mountain Haven on October 1st.

Erchinger believes that 28 of the 40 beds are currently filled, The patient costs for Seward Mountain Haven are equivalent to the traditional Medicaid costs for nursing homes. Those interested in more information should contact Chris Boltin at 224-2872.

Monday, July 27, 2009

Sarah Palin's Last Stand


My first article for the Alaska Standard.


Afternoon with the Queen
By Dorene M. Lorenz

At significantly less than five feet tall, Fairbanks Grande Dame Marcel Colp was having difficulty seeing over the thousands of on-lookers. I barely know Marcel, but I love her dearly. Marcel is one of those rare people who are genuinely made out of pure sugar.

I wasn’t in Fairbanks to attend the peaceful changing of Alaska’s government; I was here to enjoy a week with the Fairbanks Pioneers of Alaska as they celebrated their Golden Days. Marcel Colp is a former Fairbanks Igloo Queen Regent, I was last years Seward Queen Regent. I failed to show up to wave in their 2 ½ hour parade, so this summer I was attending as a good will gesture.

Queen Marcel is nothing but good will as she explains with understandable pride that she has attended the swearing in of nearly every governor Alaska has known, and was determined to witness the passing the touché. Her dedicated husband was waiting in the car, to ill to brave the crowds. It was hot. There was no chair for the Fairbanks Queen, no water, not even a commemorative program. We put her on one of the gangways of the S.S. Nenana, close to the stage so she could at least hear what was going on since there was no chance of her seeing.

“Quitter!” hollered a 30-something woman repeatedly as soon-to-be-former Governor Palin was speaking.

“Go home!” yelled a very pregnant 30-something woman next to her, not at Sarah Palin, but at the heckler.

“Freedom of speech, it’s my right to say it,” the heckler boldly challenged. “Quitter! Quitter!”

“We aren’t interested in hearing you,” explained a 60-year old woman. “We are here to hear the ceremony. Now if you can’t behave, go home!”

“Go home!” confirmed the soon-to-be mom.

Queen Marcel completely ignored the catfight that derailed my attention. Her unwavering focus was on the speaker, following the word jumbo sound bites that bounced around Sarah’s need to hire a better speechwriter. My attention went to the signage that was scattered around the crowd, “Sick of $arah”, “Captain Zero to the Rescue”, “Bong Hits For Sarah”

A Native Elder with long white hair and a black leather vest covered with VFW patches inserted himself in the personal space of the heckler and quietly spoke some measured words. The heckler glanced around anxiously then quickly left our area.

Sarah finished, and as she moved away from the podium a good fourth of the crowd left. She was done, and they were done as well. I pushed Queen Marcel through the hole the Palinistas made in the crowd and managed to get her right to the edge of the seated guests where her view was clear and the acoustics were considerably better.

Queen Marcel stood with a reflective smile as they swore in Sean Parnell and Craig Campbell. She nodded her head in agreement as they outlined the broad strokes of where they envisioned their administration taking Alaska. She clapped at every pause, sang along to the Alaska Flag song, and in a record number of attendees at Pioneer Park, gracefully embodied all of the positive attributes that the speakers had assigned to the character of Alaskans.

After the ceremony one had to chose between cake or a handshake, and Queen Marcel chose the handshake line. We stood behind a group of military wives, all of whom had photographs of their overseas servicemen with Palin,, hoping for an autograph.

“I want to thank her for her service.” Queen Marcel explained in her simple way. She wasn’t able to. We watched as Sarah stopped for a few television cameras, baby in arm, then entered the back seat of a dark pick-up truck which slowly drove her away, leaving Parnell and Campbell to bask in their moment in the sun.

“I doubt if I will ever see her again,” reflected Queen Marcel matter-of-factly.

Wednesday, July 08, 2009

Why Sarah Speaks the Way She Does


I have a new theory. It puts me in the uncomfortable position of defending Governor Sarah Palin - something I swore I wouldn't do after I made a fool of myself defending her foreign policy experience by telling everyone about the trade trips she made to other counties only to discover that practice ended with Governor Frank Murkowski.

In reading Sarah's resignation speech, three times, it occurred to me there was something familiar in Palin's speech pattern. A light bulb went off in my head, and I think I have discovered the answer to the Palin riddle.

Let me preface my theory by saying that speech is something I actually studied at one of the best universities in the nation in that discipline. My education was supplemented by Channel 11 News training by the best television journalist coaches Gottstein could afford. Speech is not about diagramming sentences and using perfect English, it is about being able to convey a message by a verbal medium that the listener will find attractive enough to pay attention to. The emphasis is on how things sound, not how they are written.

Sarah went to school, okay several schools, and eventually landed a job as a journalist at Channel 2 News. This is the underlying reason Palin is beaten up so badly over her bizarre speaking style. Journalists are supposed to be fluent masters of the English language.

Here is where I am going out on a limb, I am going to suggest Sarah Palin may be the victim of misplaced expectations. Her journalistic dream ended with a goal she didn't obtain, being a ESPN sportscaster.

That is the tickle we have all missed, and it is a big one.

Sarah wasn't a reporter, she was trained to be a sports caster. Ever listen to the sports on the nightly news? Incomplete run-on sentences, crazy metaphors, transitionless topic jumping. One would have difficulty deciphering any given night's sports script because all the visual clues as to what the speaker is talking about are missing.

Sarah' speech has a rhythm, a beat, a timing of its own. I am quite confident that when Sarah steps up to the microphone in her mind's eye there is a video feed box behind her right shoulder illustrating what she is talking about. It is how she was trained to speak.

Unfortunately, there is no one running the tape for Sarah Palin.

Sunday, June 28, 2009

Autumn Leaves


Finished my painting, now I just need to hang it in our new camper's bathroom.

Friday, June 12, 2009

Bird dogs gone wild





I admit I was bored and looking for cheep entertainment (pun intended) so I placed a Silver Dorking pullet in with the papillon pups for over an hour, sat back and watched.




Weighing in at just under a pound, the puppies are a lot larger than the chick. But they are also significantly more clumsy and slow, so I figured the bird had a fair chance since she could easily hop out of harms way at will.







The interesting thing is, she didn't. Miss Kitty let the pups lick her, smack her with their paws, nuzzle her feathers, climb all over her. She took an amazing amount of abuse, then decided the best place to take a nap was in the dog pile.




It was really sweet, it was hilariously funny to watch, and an experiment I want to try with Walburga next.
She is far more inquisitive and brave, and the puppies are getting more mobile. I am wondering if they will chase each other.


Wednesday, June 10, 2009

Divine Miss M





Michelle Booher-Wallace, my amazing cousin that I grew up with, is here visiting with her family. She is spending her days and nights at my mother's house, pouring through the love letters that were written between our grandparents when Chris Sorenson first came up to Alaska. Very sweet. Very sweet. He was such a farmboy, you have to love him.

Anyway, Michelle is spending her time visiting the past, visiting with my parents and sister, showing her husband around town. I catch her for a few minutes at dinner, and that is about it - so don't want to hear a lot of whining from her friends about how little time she is spending with them. I am feeling it myself.

We did take time for one little family excursion, a visit to the old family sawmill for some hooligan fishing. Didn't catch a thing, except a few candids of Michelle.

Tuesday, May 26, 2009

Clam Wench Weekend


Cold. Smelly. Boring. Exhausting. Miserable.

These are the four adjectives that I have used to describe camping for the last three decades. It all stems from a tragic family drama involving a 70s cabover, a Winston smoke-filled cab, "we've got a long way to go, and a short time to get there" blaring on the 8 track, food poisoning and a long weekend in Ninilchik. In reflection, most likely Memorial Day weekend.

Never wanted to go camping, ever again. And I never did. Until this last weekend.

Keith got a new Kodiak camping trailer for Father's Day, and was understandably itching to try it out. Our Anchorage neighbors invited us to go with them to the Kenai Pen and do and little clamming, which sounded like a good idea until the plan unfolded that they were staying at the Russian River and clamming in China Poot Bay.

Scratched our heads on that one as well. Then it came to light that my brother, sister, and cousin were staying at Aunt Amy's in Ninilchik and clamming there. Different types of clams, the big chewy razors instead of the petite steamers. Keith immediately resigned himself that he would be the only one digging, cleaning, and eating the clams, and was still game.

We weren't prepared for the 20+ campers who were bedded down on Amy's 14 acre spread, even after my brother backed out sighting the potential for rain. (Brian is a weenie!) But this weekend definitely turned into a case of "the more the merrier." Cousin Vince and his crew had the weekend down to a science, with activities to keep all ages engaged, and the company was the best one could hope for.

Vince wore his Clam-o-flague, lead the clamming expedition to the sacred grounds, charged tourists $10 for parking, $10 for beach access, $10 for clamming lessons, and accessed them a $10 fee for not flattening their divots. That guy knows how to mine some clams.

Cold, yes. Even Keith complained for lack of sleep due to cold. Smelly, after clamming, definitely. Exhausting, well, we did drive home and crash. Boring, no, especially when loaded with kids and newborn puppies. Miserable, definitely not. Next year? Count us in.

Friday, May 08, 2009

Seldovia Fairy finally grants Ferry Wish


After a decade of effort, Seldovia is finally launching their new ferry. All Aboard this summer to check out the newest way to get between Homer and the sweetest village in Alaska.

Thursday, May 07, 2009

Local Couple Gets it On


Nothing quite as earcatching as the soulful sounds of eagles in love. They are downright noisy. Apparently, there is no "If this trees a'rocking, don't come knockin" bumperstickers. There really should be.

Eagles are major show offs when it comes to their lovemaking, there is nothing remotely subtle about it.
They put acrobatic circus performers to shame with their death-defying feats. Judy Ann Warren took some amazing photos of bald eagles in action, thank you Judy! Watch a death spiral by clicking here.

We have two eagle's nests in the Alaska Hamptons viewshed, and the one you can see from the West Wing Master suite is very busy this year. Will be fun to peek out the window and watch for chicks!

Wednesday, May 06, 2009

Slow Spring brings Yukon Gold



You stick a potato in the catapult, pull the pin, and away it goes. Away, away, over Nash road. Way over.


The sling was made out of an old oilskin hat poached several years ago.

Fishing weights created the 18 pound balance.

Apparently this is No. 3, which took four days to build.

He is hoping to work his way up to one that is made out of two telephone poles that he can pop cars with.

Fishing season cannot start too soon.

Friday, April 24, 2009

Safety First




I know that Governor Sarah Palin has been really busy while she has been in office, but one would think, hope, pray, that the safety of Alaskans would be somewhere on her priority list. Apparently, not near the top. How else could one explain this recent photo taken of damage in the north span of the Trail River bridge of the Seward Highway.

Seward Highway? Yes, that national scenic byway that is one of the major transportation arteries of the state. I don't think it takes a civil engineer to look at girder number one and figure out something is a miss. Nor is it any surprise that this damage didn't happen overnight, but from years of deferred maintenance.

The crews are closing down the highway this (normally very busy since the grey whale watches would be coming to Seward) weekend from 10 pm tonight to 5 am Monday morning to put in a temporary fix.

Guess we should all be letting loose a sigh of relieve that a bus load of cruise ship tourists and they unregulated heavy luggage didn't go crashing through prior to the structure being fixed. I know the locals really enjoyed the slow the highway down to 25 mph, set up a stop light at either end of the bridge, say two Hail Marys, have everyone take turns driving down the middle of the bridge adventure we have had this spring.

Apparently, I am not the only one who has noticed that Seward's safety hasn't been noticed. Kenai Pen Borough Mayor Dave Carey suggests he had nearly thousand complains on the issue, and suggests some legal action may be following. Read his letter at the Seward City News.