Because I can look out my window on a beautiful sunny morning in May and see a young moose energetically trotting towards the shrubbery I obviously planted for his morning meal.
The problem with the weather
The problem when Anchorage has so many pretty days in a row is that I get tired of pretty days. I mean, I live in Alaska. Part of the whole schtick is putting up with the challenging weather. If I had wanted pretty, I could have moved to San Diego.
Clarification
I was not really mugged. It was merely an exercise in philosophical musing. Ask my cousin Joe 3 and he’ll explain it all to you.
I swear I will spit up
If I hear one more political candidate promise me that he or she is going to rein in government spending and size I will spit up all over the shoes of the person standing nearest to me. Those words have become some sort of conservative mantra with words that never change and promises that are never kept. It’s what people say to get elected and then they do whatever the hell they want. And yet we keep electing them with the hope that this time, this candidate will really mean it.
Here’s a heads up folks… they don’t and they
A philosophical quandry
I am being mugged when my mugger suddenly exclaims, “Wait.. aren’t you that lady from the newspaper? I read your column all the time.” Should I be horrified or flattered?
Bush Alaska spends too much time mourning
The story in Monday’s paper said that urban and rural kids have about the same rates of death by guns. The difference is apparently that in the cities, the deaths are usually murders. In rural areas, it’s accidental shootings and suicides.
Anyone who had lived in Alaska for more than ten minutes can attest to the truth of those findings.
A few months ago a former reporter and I discussed Bush Alaska and its seemingly intractable problems of substance abuse, domestic violence and suicide. She said it had once been suggested to her that the reason things were so difficult
The pain in my belly
Am I the only one who gets a physical pain in her belly every time they run a photo of oiled pelicans and dying sea turtles.
BP should be damned to hell and so should we for our greedy dependence on a substance that dragged us into an unending battle in the mideast and is despoiling the world we will someday hand over to our children.
Shame on us all.
Gardening my style
This past weekend I was knee deep into my one day of gardening a year when I plant all the little flowers in the pots I put around my house. When done, I salute them and wish them well. From then on, they’re on their own to survive. I periodically water them and add some food but other than that, survival at my house just means being hardy enough to withstand my benign neglect.
This year, my plants won the jackpot when my friend Janis came in from Dutch Harbor and did the planting for me. If flowers could be
I wake up
I wake up every morning with some optimism about the day ahead. Then I remember the Gulf of Mexico and I just want to hide my head in a pillow and sob myself back to sleep.
Ia this what I’ve sunk to? Or was I just tired?
I’m watching a TV show called “The Middle”. The sullen teenage son is dragged off to see a giant tree stump. He stares mournfully at it and states, “I had the lowest of expectations for this and even I’m disappointed.” I don’t know why but that line cracked me up. I mean laugh out loud, startle the sleeping birds cracked me up. And I have to wonder if I have grown so old that I’ve now come full circle and once again find adolescent male teen humor funny or have I simply lost my mind. I pray the answer is