Scribblings

Momma needs an easy year. Hasn’t had one since your last run for office. So run, Sarah. Run. I won’t have to scratch my head to think of a column topic for so long as you’re out there explaining where Russia is.

When we get baby birds in at Bird TLC, one of the cardinal rules we follow is to not let the birds imprint on us so that when we set them free, they are still wild and afraid of people… a must if they are to survive. But this year we got in a baby eagle who fell from the nest and broke its wing. It will never fly well enough to be releasable and so is destined to a life as an education bird. This means that we are actually encouraged to get the eagle to imprint on us

I am not, to put it mildly, a sun person. I am barely holding on, gripping sanity by my fingertips, waiting for the first frost. I want to sit in my office and not have mosquitoes buzzing around my head. I want to go to sleep under piles of blankets enjoying the warmth of my dogs surrounding me instead of wanting to throw the sheets back and scream in sweaty frustration.

I did not move to Alaska to be this hot. So stop it. Do you hear me, stop it!

A banker at WF talked me into doing something that he said would eliminate monthly fees for my personal and business checking and saving accounts. But the monthly fees kept coming. And calls to my local branch were never answered. Finally got through to the 800 number. They informed me the application was never completed. Interesting since it was the banker doing the app. When I asked about the three years of fees that I should not have been receiving had their banker done his work, they informed me with great joy that they would reimburse me for the past

May it rot in hell. More tomorrow when I can breathe more easily and not want to run screaming naked through the headquarters screaming “Die you scumbag bankers. Die.”

What a pleasure to talk to someone from North Rim Bank instead.

I am boycotting the outdoors until every single lousy stinking friggin’ mosquito is dead. DEAD! So don’t even ask if I want to eat outside or go for a walk. Not happening.

He was in Alaska. My great land has been sullied with orange spray tan. I only hope we can cleanse ourselves before we too turn orange.

Sadly, living in Alaska means learning to live with plane crashes and death so much more often than probably anywhere else in America. Anyone who’s lived in the bush has flown those small planes. Anyone who’s lived in the bush has known someone who died in one of them. Yet we get up each day knowing that it’s the risk we take for living in a land we love. My sympathy goes out to all those families in South Carolina who lost a loved one in the Soldotna plane crash and to the family of Walter Rediske, pilot.

I never realize how loudly annoying our Congress is until they go away and I realize how much I am basking in the quiet that follows. Maybe they should only meet every five years or so.

I can only repeat frequently and fervently, thank you goddess for bringing back a real Anchorage summer. Here’s to 60 degrees!