Pomegranate, Popcorn, Pomegranate, repeat. . .

"There's a blizzard outside!" I burst through the door covered in corn snow.

"Like a frog"? Ingrid looked concerned.

"Oh! Not a lizard Ingrid, a blizzard. The snow is blowing around all over Fairbanks." It had been -10F on Wednesday but had warmed up to 20 above with the low pressure.

After brushing off we had a standing dinner of tiny pieces. We started with a course of pomegranate. It was Ingrid's first.

"What is that? I don't want that."

"OK, I'll have it."

"I want that." She's not very hard to convince. "It tastes like candy." I love how pomegranate is a food and also an activity. It's like someone crossed a tangerine with a Rubik's cube.

To balance out the sweet Rachel baked up a bag of buttered popcorn (an old family recipe, butter and popcorn). Here's what was left after three minutes:

We finished with a second course of pomegranate and got ready for bed. The bottom half of Ingrid's clothes came off in one heap. She said it looked like a little person named Jailey.

Ingrid put a crown on my head and then tried to get it off. Each time she would reach up I would nuzzle her chin and she'd fall to the floor laughing. Wouldn't it be great if we replaced all the tasers with ticklers. It would be a more effective defense tactic, tickling is much more debilitating anyway.

Every night we go through the same bedtime routine. Ingrid reads us a story then Rachel reads Ingrid the same story. We pray--always holding hands at Ingrid's insistance, then Rachel carries Ingrid into her room and I chase them both like a tiger. Rachel then "talks about the day" in the big comfy chair (Rachel says she hates that but I love to listen to them). Finally Ingrid goes to bed. So it was last night in our little Alaskan home.