A Christmas Day Calf

I spent the holidays back in my homestate of Alabama, and it was terrific.  There was so much Chick-Fil-A and Krispy Kreme consumed that I reckon I'll be detoxing from the South for a good month before my dietary habits get back to normal. 

One of the high points of my trip was driving up to Tennessee with my dear sweet Momma on Christmas Day.  Most of my roots are still in the Deep South, and whenever I'm that side of the Mason-Dixon line, I try to get some time in with family in Centertown, Tennessee.  My last trip to see my Tennessee kinfolk was way back in 2012, so my visit back to the Farm was long overdue.

Most of the family's got a history in farming, and Uncle Pug - who's in his late 70s - is still up and at 'em.  Imagine my surprise when he tells me Christmas morning that one of his Black Angus cows birthed a little one just a few hours earlier!  Somehow I talked Uncle Pug into naming it Candice, because let's get real - who doesn't want to have livestock named after them?  What an awesome, one-of-a-kind Christmas present!

Check out the video below of when Uncle Pug and I took the four-wheeler on the farm in search of "Candice."  My fave part is at the 02:19 minute mark when Uncle Pug tells me about "Big Daddy."  Enjoy!

Uncle Pug.  Quite the character.

"Candice" and Momma Cow.

They call this one "Candice."

I don't know this cow's name.  I will call it "Grumpy Cow."

Bama Bound

It took four flights and 26 hours to get back to Bama.  It cost just shy of a thousand dollars, plus an overnight on a bench in the Seattle-Tacoma Airport.  It took all this and more to finally get back to the Heart of Dixie, back to my Momma’s arms.

Reunion time in the Huntsville airport. 

Seattle to Portland...

I’ve lived in Alaska for “only” six years, but whenever I venture back to the Lower 48, it's still sometimes overwhelming.  Don't get me wrong - I love the travel and hustle and bustle of big cities. But I’m comfortable in Alaska now.  Comfy with the community and low crime and no traffic.  Relaxed in the simplicity and minimalism of the Last Frontier. 

Yet on Sunday, I found myself navigating Chicago O’Hare International Airport – and it was an assault on the senses.  Crowds rushing everywhere.  The smell in the air of fried chicken and gyros and bubble tea.  Florescent lights reflecting on slick tile floors.  Beeps, thuds, and foreign languages around every corner. 

There was the Swabian family, worried they weren't going to make their connecting flight to Frankfurt. And the couple from Minsk, beyond excited about spending their holiday in Vegas.

And then there was me, just a happy and anxious Alaskan, wide-eyed with wonder... and thrilled to be going home for the holidays.

Somewhere over Chicago...

Somewhere over Chicago...

Becoming an Outdoors-Woman

It all began with learning how to hang a bear bag high up in the trees.   Then came a yummy, yet valuable, lesson on mixing butter into a cup of hot chocolate to add crucial calories for survival. 

Next thing I know, I’m camping in the wilds of Alaska.  For the first time in my life.  In bear country.

Last weekend, I became a woman of the wilderness when I participated in a three day program called Becoming an Outdoors-Woman (BOW).  At an "off the grid" location 40 miles north of Juneau, I developed new skills and tested my limits.  Sans my iPhone's compass, I was surrounded by fresh air, campfires, and supportive new friends. 

The weekend was an incredible experience that left me bright-eyed, refreshed, and ready to learn more.  Thanks to this program and my new friends, my apprehensions are in check, and my self-esteem has blossomed.  Thank you, BOW!