A journalist observes life in the far north.
Christmas is over in about a half an hour. I am awake because I have too much energy to go to bed courtesy of a late night ski. Alec, Lucky and the dogs are all asleep. Brad Pitt, sporting a stupid mustache, is on “Charlie Rose.” It’s a sauna in here. Alec stoked the wood stove before going to bed.
Tomorrow morning we leave for the mountains for the weekend despite a bitter cold front reportedly making its way to Interior Alaska. Temperatures of 40 below are expected here by next week. If things go my way, the moderate temperatures will linger through Saturday so that I can take Lucky sledding. If they don’t, I have work and three movies, including “Fred Claus” and “The Bucket List.”
My new addiction is Facebook. I signed on three times today.
Lucky loves the little plastic baby laptop that Santa brought. I think she gets a kick out of how it says, “Goodbye,” when she closes the lid because she repeatedly opens and closes the lid. Gift-opening this morning was anti-climactic. Lucky had a sort of take-it-or-leave-it attitude. I did most of the package unwrapping, which was fun when I didn’t know what was inside.
Don, Lucky’s grandpa, made a Christmas brunch of shrimp and avocado omelets. Following that, we shoveled the driveway at the rental property and then took a ride through town to satisfy our curiosity about what was open and what wasn’t. From what we could gather, only bars and gas stations were open.