I wanted to write a little more about being raised in Alaska:

As I wrote in my previous "Alaska" blog entries, My family (Mom, Dad, Sister and I) moved up in the spring of 1976. That summer we lived in a tent. I don't remember it being too difficult, but then I was 3 yrs old when we began this adventure.

Since it stays light most of the day and night during the months of May, June and July, getting to bed early wasn't too heavily enforced.

I remember one Sunday we had cleaned up by sponge bath in the tent, and then went to church. After church my sister & I were playing outside of the tent and heard my mom scream and blood curdling scream from inside the tent. (I guess things like that stick in your mind when you're so young.) We all ran in the tent, and my mom told my dad to take the sponge bath set up outside. She had reached down into the water to squeeze out the washcloth, the only thing was, was that a mouse had drowned in the pan of water....she had squeezed the dead mouse!

Talk about a rude awakening to the great outdoors. That still gives me the heebee-geebees just thinking of it!

OK, that's all about the Last Frontier today.

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