Elise Sereni Patkotak

When you live in Alaska long enough, you start to take it for granted.  You drive through vistas that leave visitors gasping at their beauty and all you can think about is making it to your destination so that you no longer have to tailgate the RV from Hell.

Then you get the dreaded summer visitors and you find yourself showing them your state.  And with each passing mile, each passing experience, each passing moment, you find yourself swelling more and more with pride as you remember why you chose Alaska for your home.

At least, that’s what happened to

The first time my sister came to Alaska was in 1974. She flew directly to Barrow from the East Coast without any time off to acclimatize in Anchorage.  She stayed for over six weeks.  By the time she left, I wasn’t sure I’d ever get her back to Alaska again.

She came at the end of May, just in time for my husband and his family to be taking their traditional hunting trip on the tundra on Memorial Day weekend.  It was possibly one of the coldest, wettest and most miserable of hunting trips I ever took in my 28

The Coronado, California school system named its football field Niedermeyer Field. Anyone who is a devotee of the movie “Animal House” knows that Niedermeyer was the name of the insufferable, pompous jock who, according to the legend stated at the end of the movie, was killed by his own men in Vietnam.  The field in Coronado was apparently not named after him.

These thoughts occurred to me when I found myself there recently for yet another of those milestones that make you feel just that much older. My dear friend’s middle daughter was graduating from high school.

The ceremonies were

As I sit here watching another rainy summer day go by, I find my thoughts unaccountably turning to the legislative session that just ended.  I find myself trying to think of all the possible reasons why this session turned out as crazy as it did.

I understand that money is tight. I understand that politicians, by virtue of their trade, never want to actually be pinned down to anything that might cost them a vote or lose them a contribution. I understand that statesmen are the exception and not the rule in politics.  But still, am I the only one

Daphne’s back so it must be spring.  Daphne is the duck who unaccountably chose my sister’s yard for her nest three years ago and has returned faithfully to it every year since.  Judy tried to discourage her by planting flowers and shrubs in the spot where she builds her nest.  Daphne apparently saw this as Judy’s attempt to make her eggs even safer from the seagulls that circle overhead and gratefully snuggled down amidst the plants.

Judy wouldn’t mind the whole situation so much were it not for the fact that Daphne gets very possessive of her space which is

Let me be the first to admit that I am a total hypocrite when it comes to hunting and fishing.  If I had to do it for myself, I’d be the biggest vegetarian on earth.  I just can’t ever imagine killing something. Never have and hope to leave this world in the same condition. On the other hand, let me also state that given a caribou leg, a goose or a salmon, I will be pathetically grateful for the gift and will cook it up without a qualm.

When I first arrived in Barrow, the concept of whaling was something

It was one of those dinners you sink into like an old easy chair. There was pasta with clam sauce on the stove, wine in the glasses and cousins from my childhood standing around with the easy familiarity bred of love and knowing what each other looked like in high school.

My brother made dinner, a carry over tradition from the days when my father reigned supreme in the kitchens on Sunday afternoons.  Dad had no rivals in his generation. Men left the cooking to the wives. Phil has competition. In fact, my sister refuses to cook spaghetti and crabs

When I was growing up, there were certain books on my mother’s bookshelf that were forbidden to me and my best friend Grace. I always thought this was odd since my mother had been an English teacher and always encouraged reading in our home.

One of the first “big girl” privileges Grace and I earned was the right to walk the six blocks to the city library every Saturday to exchange our Wizard of Oz and Bobbsey Twins books for the next in the series.

Our library cards were the first adult ID that we possessed.  Checking a book out

When I asked where the pen was, the lady on the phone sounded puzzled.  She clearly had no idea what the pen was.  Even worse, she couldn’t understand why I thought she should give it to me.

I had been on the phone with her for the better part of 30 minutes trying to understand exactly what it was that the company she represented was doing to me.  I won’t name names but it’s a major bank representing a major credit card. I had just received notice that they would no longer be carrying my type of card and were

It was a simple enough announcement.  I’d received many like it through the years.  Another friend had graduated a child from high school and was proudly announcing that said child is headed to college.  In an age of drugs, alcohol, and more sex in one night on TV than my mother had in her lifetime, this is quite an accomplishment.

But this announcement was special because this child was very special. This child had not been born into the best of circumstances. This was one of those children who were not supposed to have a chance. This child came from