kareina

Mom took us kids to Alaska for a two week vacation, and we never left. Well, eventually, but not for a long time.

We had been living in Texas for about three years, and during that time our dad retired from the military, then, after some time also living in Texas, where we got to see him every weekend, he moved to Alaska and started working as a laborer on the Pipeline. A couple of years later mom decided that it was time to take us kids north for a visit, as she had never been to Alaska and always wanted to go. I remember being told at the time that children flying alone had to pay full price, but if accompanied by a parent they got half price. If so then it makes even more sense that we all three went.

Our first stop was in the Fairbanks area, where dad's youngest brother, Lenny, his wife, and their three children were living. Dad picked us up at the airport and we went to his brother's place, where we stayed for some days. Those cousins were all three younger than Beth (who was 6 at the time, and I was 9), but all were old enough to enjoy playing with, and we enjoyed the stay there. They had a vegetable garden, and the carrots and raspberries were ripe, and I remember delighting in eating them straight from the plant. I had never had the chance to do that before. They also kept goats. I will never forget my first, unexpected, taste of goat's milk. After being tucked into bed that first night I was thirsty, and for some reason asked for a cup of milk instead of a glass of water. Mom brought me one, but it was very strangely sweet. I don't think I finished it. In addition to having fun at their house we also went to the tourist attraction Alaska Land, which was full of historical stuff and people in gold rush era costumes, and to Santa Claus House in North Pole.

After we left the Fairbanks area we took the drive south, through some truly beautiful mountains, (I especially loved Rainbow Mountain), with a stop at Paxson Lodge (which seems to have closed a few years ago) to the home of Unlce Joe, another of my dad's brothers, at mile 151 of the Richardson Highway, about three miles north of Sourdough Lodge, (which burned down some years ago). Uncle Joe's cabin was a picture-perfect old style log cabin, in the forest on the shores of a pretty lake, with an outhouse, a proper cashe (like this one), and a few more outbuildings. We stayed there a day or two, and Beth and I had ever so much fun playing in the woods and reading Joe's book on rocks and minerals (this was the start of the path that led to my becoming a geologist).

Then we went one mile further down the road to the home of uncle Bubzy (yet another of Dad's brothers) and aunt Ciel. They lived in a house that was a little bit bigger than Joe's cabin, which is a good thing, as they had five sons. Steve and Ray are two and three years older than I, Karl is between Beth and I in age, and Jon and Joe are one and two years younger than Beth. Arriving at this cabin was like coming home. Their lake was even prettier than Joe's to my eye, and this house was full of toys and people to play with. All of the boys were delightful, but Jon earned a special place in my heart that very first night. The boy's room was a very small room, just big enough to hold two sets of bunk-beds set at right angles too one another, and a trundle bed under one of the sets of bunks. That first night we stayed there I got to sleep in the trundle bed, mostly slid under the bunk above, but pulled a little bit out so I could breath. Jon had the bunk above me, with his head on the opposite end to mine, and I remember holding his hand and smiling at one another till we fell asleep, still holding hands.

The next day mom, aunt Ciel, and aunt Josie (dad's sister who lived nearby at the time) took off on a road trip to Anchorage, leaving us kids with our dads. We kids had a fabulous time together while our moms were away and the time flew by till they returned a couple of days later, and mom announced "I got a job, we are moving". Much to my delight, she decided to leave us with our cousins while she returned to Texas, sold the house, sold the car, bought a pick up truck, filled it with what it would hold and sold the rest at a garage sale, then drove it north. By the time she returned for us, a week or so later, I had been completely assimilated--my cousin's house felt like my home, and I didn't want to leave. However, mom insisted, and we did, in fact, move to Anchorage, a four hour drive to the south. I am glad that we did, because Anchorage had one thing that Bubzy's cabin lacked: Mountains! But it was sad to leave the boys behind.

Luckily, Mom remained good friends with Ciel and Bubz, so we made it up to their cabin several times a year, sometimes just for a weekend, sometimes for longer periods, and, until I found the SCA, it was always my first choice of a place to go if we had time and budget for a road trip. Even after I found the SCA I still got back up there at every opportunity. The nicest display of northern lights I have ever seen I saw standing in the middle of their lake one winter night, when I had gone out to use the outhouse, and stayed out to appreciate the show.

Before Donnan and I moved to Arizona by way of the SCA-20 year Anniversary event in Texas, I insisted that we take the detour up the Richardson highway to visit my cousins before doubling back to the highway going to Canada and then south. I haven't made it back to Alaska since 2009, when I didn't get to visit the cabin again, but I did get to see all five boys and their various wives and children. Years may elapse between each visit, but the connection is still there. Lately I have been chatting with Jon fairly often on line, and am trying to convince him that he wants to visit Sweden. I don't know if I will manage, but the conversations sure have been bringing up the old memories. It surprised me when I did the math and realize just how long it has been since we did that "vacation" back in 1976...

I arrived in Anchorage on Monday afternoon, after a pleasant flight wherin I accomplished more sewing on my winter coat in progress, getting the cuffs and collar attached (thus making it much more wearable!). Before boarding the plane I enjoyed one of those "small world" moments which is so common in Alaska. A woman sat down next to me in the boarding area, and we got to chatting. I thought she looked kind of familiar, and just then she shifted her boarding pass so that I could see her name. Causing me to say "wait, I know you!". She is the mother of one of my highschool boyfriends, and one of my friends on Facebook. I wouldn't have recognized her name if not for the latter--she changed back to her maiden name after her second divorce years ago, but when I knew her she was using the surname of her children's father. She told me that she thought I looked familiar too, and had been thinking to herself that I looked to be about the same age as her kids, and wondering if I had attended Steller.

I was met at the airport by a friend with whom I had attended highschool. He and I didn't really get to know one another then--he was several grades ahead of me, and I idolized his circle of friends, but didn't hang out with them. However, we've gotten to know one another via facebook, and he'd sent me a message saying that if I made it back to Alaska I should come visit, so I took him up on it. I'm glad I did, I had much fun hanging out with his family. They let me play in the kitchen, baking them an apple pie on Monday after dinner. I do them they way my aunt taught me, piling fresh sliced apples more than twice the hight of the pie plate and covering them with spiced sugar and a bit of butter before doming the pie crust over all. Then bake a short time in a hot oven, to get the crust to solidify in place before turning the heat down and letting the apples cook down till they just fill the shell bottom. They've got a *nice* stove/oven. After the pie went into the oven we played Settlers of Cattan till after midnight. (There are advantages to visiting during school holidays--the kids are permitted to stay up late if they are behaving themselves and being pleasant company.) On Tuesday I baked a particularly soft and yummy braided loaf of bread, using buttermilk for the liquid. Tuesday afternoon I went for a short walk to admire the view--it is so nice to be back in Anchorage and have the lovely Chugach Range for a backdrop. I'm also overjoyed to be some place with real snow again. Tuesday evening I went sledding for the first time in at least a decade. Fun! I should really do this more often.

On Wednesday morning I was picked up by my cousin R., and we drove out to Wasilla to his brother K.'s house. After a brief visit there we three drove up to Copper Center (about four hour drive north) to the home of their brother S. I truly enjoyed that drive--the mountains through which we drive are beautiful. We used to do that drive quite a few times a year when I was a kid, since my cousins lived in the Sourdough area. Even when I was little I'd spend the drive with my eyes glued to the window admiring the beauty of the mountains.

We arrived as S.'s wife K. was finishing up some holiday pies, and she let me make the bread dough for the breadsticks for her holiday party today. Since she had a half gallon of cream in the fridge I opted for a rich loaf--I used two cups of cream, two of milk, two eggs, and some hot water for the liquid, added about a half a stick of butter, a spoonful of honey, and enough flour (mostly white, but some whole wheat) to make up enough dough for six loaves of bread (she's expecting 43 people for tonight's gathering). We three pans of breadsticks, and then I showed her how to make crescent rolls with the rest of the dough. Again the bread came out very soft and yummy, and we've eaten a fair few of the rolls already, and guests aren't expected to start arriving for hours.

I won't see the arrival of the guests. K., R., and I will be driving back to Wasilla this afternoon so that K. can spend Christmas with his wife and sons. R. will be flying out on Tuesday, and I'll probably be spending time with friends in Anchorage after Christmas and before I fly to Fairbanks on the 30th. Now I just need to contact people and make arrangements for where I will be going next. Sure hope they let me do baking wherever I wind up, too, I'm liking having access to better ovens than the tiny toaster oven I've got in Milan.