Fall is Here

Today is different. It's fall. The air is not just cool -- it's  crisp. We didn't have much of a summer up here in the 49th. And we are on track to go on record as the wettest summer. Ever. But fall is here and it's one of those magnificent days that makes you wonder how you could possibly conceive of living anywhere else.

Upper Chatanika River

I wrote the following post three years ago. Despite that it was borne out of heartbreak (which is now ancient history and those memories don't evoke anything) it remains one of my favorite pieces that I've written.

Click here to read, "It's Fall, in August?"

Moose in the Slough

My day:

1) Floating = good.

2) Held hostage by a moose for 1/2 hour = good, but tense. 

3) Pulled over by trooper = bad turned good when he gave me a citation for a correctable offense instead of a moving violation. The fact that I was still in my bathing suit (having just come from floating and all) has no bearing on the situation. 

America

What I love about America is this:

As a single woman of a <ahem> certain age I can go camping and kayaking if I so wish. I don't have to get anyone's approval or even tell anyone where I am. This, is a tremendous privilege and one that I am continually grateful for. 

The Mountains are Calling and I Must Go

I am now a member of a club that we all join at some point but no one wants to: the dead dad's club. After suffering a severe right-sided stroke 2 1/2 years ago, my dad left this life Wednesday night.  

My dad on the left, in the overalls.

Gettin' Called Out

This week my 8 year old niece and I had this conversation:

Justine: "Do you ever put your hair up?"

Me: "No, it's too short. But sometimes I clip it like this." 

I showed her how I pull it back in a clip. Justine snickered.

Me: "What? That's the style!"

Justine: "Maybe in Alaska!"