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ePaper created 2014-01-26, 03:47:43 | version 1.26.00
Introduction Our family moved to Anchorage, Alaska, three days after Christmas 2005. The day was so cold I could see frost on the mustache of a ground crew member who patiently waited near the aircraft’s door while I struggled to stuff my squirming youngest child into fleece over- alls, snowsuit, boots, hat, and mittens to walk 50 feet into the terminal of Ted Stevens International Airport. We slogged our overheated selves into the airport’s depths, where a mountain of suitcases and boxes waited as a sobering reminder of our new permanent-resident status. Unlike the 1.5 million annual visitors who spend a week or two in the Last Frontier, Alaska was now our home, for better or worse. We watched wearily as the sun set, coloring the Chugach Mountains to the east a delicate shade of pink, offering promise of certain good fortune in this cold new place. That is, until our 11-year-old shouted from his perch atop a Samsonite, “Hey! It’s only three o’clock! What’s wrong with this place?” Welcome to Alaska. In the eight years since, our entire family learned to love the 49th state, to embrace even its frigid winters and sometimes-rainy summers. We camp, hike, fish, and gaze daily upon a landscape that fits perfectly, as if Alaska was made specifically for us. It is and always will be home. I’ve had this book in mind ever since my feet hit the frozen sidewalks of Anchorage back in 2005. As mothers often do, I created a mental list of things I wish someone had told me, vowing to make these nuggets xi