Mayhem, carnage and pasta

The restrained beasts snorted, hoofs kicking the ground and sun glinting off the sharp points of their horns. Crowds of spectators gathered anxiously along the sides of the chute, awaiting the beginning of the fabled event and the prospect of carnage and mayhem. The participants in the chute cast repeated glances over their shoulders. What was going through their heads? Fearful thoughts of being trampled or gored as they tried to outrun the beasts? Excitement at the thought of the impending adrenaline rush? Perhaps they were looking for an escape route?

And then...the beasts were released. The participants surged forward, sometimes with only mere inches separating flesh from horn. From our safe vantage point, John, Sofia and I cheered along with the rest of the crowd.

But wait! A participant is desperately reaching out! Hand outstretched, she...pets the beast? And hold on, what's that? That beast over there just stopped to eat a carrot. And that one stopped running and is now walking the other direction.

Welcome to the annual Running of the Reindeer, a ridiculously entertaining event in Anchorage. And, one in which my parents actually participated! See, can't you see the terror in my mom's eyes?


Petting the reindeer:



This was as close as we got to carnage:


Apparently the Lord Himself sanctioned the event?


And, of course, Sof:


This has nothing to do with reindeer, but later that evening Sof learned how to lick the pasta sauce spoon, and LOVED it. Next we need to teach her how to dunk a chunk of bread into the pot...