Elise Sereni Patkotak

Mr. T now wants to be carried for some of our daily walk. For 14 years we have walked three miles a day in every kind of weather condition from 30 below on the tundra outside of Barrow to 80 above on a hot summer day in Anchorage.  He always liked the cold best.  Now, as spring is arriving and the snow is melting, his back legs seem to be getting weaker. He can make most of the walk but towards the end, if I pick him up for the uphill part of the journey, he doesn’t fight or get

In my childhood, Sinatra was the epitome of the Italian boy made good.  Today, the Italians of my generation have George Clooney.  If he ever ran for president – and he should – I think I would finally move out of my lethargy and into my sixties active mode.  Meanwhile, I’ll just enjoy looking at him.  Way to go, Italian boy.

Am I the only one who, when buying a Barry Manilow CD, pretends she’s buying it for someone else?

Had that dream again about the captain of Serenity.  I don’t know his name and don’t want to because if I did, I’d feel obligated to send him a note of apology for being possibly the dirtiest old lady he will ever have the privilege of knowing…if only in her dreams.

My house is full of Barrow people down for the state basketball championships.  Barrow boys lost but the Barrow girls are still in the scramble for the title. So the excitement continues and I can’t turn a corner in town without seeing a familiar face from home down for the games.  Meanwhile, poor Mr. T cowers on the stairs afraid to navigate the downstairs sitting room to get to his office pillow because the room is occupied by three wonderful but active young boys and their dad and Mr. T is just not sure at all that this is safe

For some reason yesterday I thought of the song “It’s A Small World” and now I can get it out of my mind. It repeats and repeats and repeats. I try to drown it out with Jimmy Buffet but within seconds the refrain reasserts itself right over the words, “Why don’t we get drunk and screw?” – which, for those of you unaware of this fact, was the official love song of my ex-husband…which may have something to do with why he’s my ex.  Oh, look at that. The song is gone.  Now you have it.  Blessed relief.

While watching TV last night I realized I could literally sense my brain cells screaming and dying from lack of anything that would feed them.  Thank god the Daily Show came on and saved me from total meltdown.

It is positively beautiful out. The new snow has covered all the ugly black ice that emerged over the past few weeks as spring prepared for breakup.  I guess it’s not really breakup unless the stuff melting is black and smelly.  In that category, Anchorage wins hands down for best breakup in the world.

But for just a few more weeks….days?…we have a magically white wonderland with the trees and bushes wearing crowns of white and even the old parked cars on people’s lawns taking on a not horribly ugly persona for a little while. 

Beauty is, after all, very,