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December 27, 2018: The Real Meaning of the Holidays

Today we went to blustery Anchorage and dropped Eleanor off at the airport. Airports are no longer such that you can go inside, go to the gate, and watch the plane take off. Instead, you drop your loved ones curbside and they then are on their way. I don’t like this because there is no sense of finality.

I was very sad to see Eleanor go, just like I was our summer guests, Sean, Eva, and Jacki. Our place is not conventional, and because we live here, we are not conventional, so visiting here for any length of time requires a high degree of patience.

Elenore takes her shot during the The First Annual Croquet Honey Bucket Invitational

El was our first winter visitor, and she did wonderfully. She assisted, whenever she could, with the cooking and the cleanup. And she was of good cheer in dealing with the fact that the water tank must be full if one is to take a shower or do dishes. And she helped with the horse walking – Tinni really liked her.

It was great fun seeing our place through El’s eyes. She did like and appreciate the beauty of the surrounding mountains and the snow on the trees going to Talkeetna.

Holidays (I have discovered) are to be spent with families, and if you are lucky you get along with them. And if you do argue about one thing or another, it’s no big deal. And it’s no big deal to have a disagreement with your spousal equivalent. You quickly move on, this instead of sulk or seek some kind of revenge. The revenge part, this is why we do not have voodoo dolls here.

Many here in Alaska are what I consider to be Lowly Lower 48 Ex-patriots – myself included, we don’t seem to have it in us to move to France or the Congo or some exotic place, so instead we take a five day drive up the highway and soon determine that we are content with having another country’s border (in this case Canada) between us and the rest of America.

When I came to Alaska many years ago, I said good riddance to my family, in a matter of speaking. I did go and visit my father in NH and my mother and sister in OR. However, I felt the literal distance between us was a buffer between us, and I was glad to have it. I suspect that many like me have experienced this – as the years went by, I mellowed out. And in mellowing out, I began seeing that literal distance as an inconvenience. It sure did feel this way today, as I watched El disappear through the glass doors and in the bowels of the Ted Stevens International Airport. Now, for either of us to spend time with one another, it takes considerable time and money.

Moving to the Lower 48, so that I might be closer to El, is not out of the realm of possibility. It would happen for sure if power came into the hood and they paved the road that loops around our place. I don’t see this happening any time soon, but you just never know.

Next: December 28, 2018: Unconditional Love

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