Alaska - Surviving and Thriving

Found money update: 2012.

February 28, 2013 by Donna Freedman

I’m a little late totaling up my 2012 found money. Okay, I’m several months late; normally I count the money around Thanksgiving.

Even though the money’s been counted, it’s still at my friend Linda’s house along with some other things I haven’t moved to my new place. Also still at Linda’s is the old vase in which I keep my finds, a gift from my daughter when she was very young. Abby found it in the “free” box at a yard sale. (That’s my girl!)

I’ve been using an old plastic container for all the coins I’ve picked up since Jan. 1. It doesn’t have the soul of that vase, which is actually pretty ghastly: fthe color of a Pepto Bismol tablet left out in the sun, embellished with gilt and bearing a painting of what looks like a 17th-century dude courting a 17th-century dame. But it was a gift from my kid, and I treasure it. Perhaps my descendants will take it to “Antiques Roadshow” and find out it’s worth a million bucks.

Last year’s final tally:

Six $1 bills
One 50-cent piece
15 quarters
71 dimes
22 nickels
286 pennies

I also found a single Canadian dime, which I’ll add to my stash. Who knows? I may drive the Al-Can again some day.

Giveaway: Hand-made chocolates. (Now with more fish!)

February 4, 2013 by Donna Freedman

The giveaway schedule is all bollixed up lately, due to circumstances (mostly) beyond my control. Hope to get back on track soon.

Not this week, though. I’m choosing to put it up on a Monday and to draw on a Friday afternoon in honor of Valentine’s Day, in support of the local economy and with a tip of the hat to flavors of the Last Frontier.

Specifically: This batch of handmade sweets from Modern Dwellers Chocolate Lounge:

Would be a delightful treat for your loved one (or yourself!) on Feb. 14;
Are made by folks who live in Anchorage; and
Uses fish as an ingredient in two of the truffles.

Yes, fish. Get out of your comfort zone, already. Or offer the fishy ones to people you want to shock.

Some things are worth the cost.

January 4, 2013January 4, 2013 by Donna Freedman

Apparently I was out of my mind when I booked my recent trip to the East Coast. My return schedule last Friday was Philly-Chicago and then Chicago-Anchorage. The option of flying directly to Anchorage vs. a stopover in Seattle or Salt Lake City felt like a grand piece of luck.

And it would have been, if the flight had left on the same day. However, it left at 9:30 a.m. on Saturday.

I wanted to do a series of forehead-plants into the drywall. Instead I sighed, shrugged and started looking for a semi-affordable hotel near O’Hare.

The old me would have done those forehead-plants.

The Molly Pitcher workout.

December 21, 2012December 20, 2012 by Donna Freedman

When I was in elementary school we heard the story of a brave Revolutionary War-era woman who carried water to the troops during the Battle of Monmouth. “Molly, Molly, bring us your pitcher,” the men would call on that hot July day. That’s how she became known as “Molly Pitcher,” we were told.

Mary Ludwig Hays McCauley did follow her husband, a barber who enlisted in the Revolutionary Army, and apparently helped him load cannons. But “Molly Pitcher” seems to have been just a generic nickname for women who carried water to the colonial troops.

The truth is so limiting. I like the legend better, especially after what happened to me yesterday.

Tweets from Talkeetna: The sequel.

May 14, 2013December 3, 2012 by Donna Freedman

The 2012 Talkeetna Bachelor Auction was the most profitable ever, and possibly the most raucous: a four-hour howlfest that had at least one woman literally swinging from the rafters.

I am not making that up. This was a late-30s/early-40s woman sitting in my row in the upper level of the Sheldon Community Arts Hangar. Several times she got so carried away that she grabbed hold of an overhead beam and swung from it.

When I say “carried away,” I mean “under the influence of alcohol.” But she was not alone. Let’s just say that a whole lot of red Solo cups got filled up — and emptied — that night.

A shooter’s view of Alaska.

December 11, 2012November 23, 2012 by Donna Freedman

That’s “shooter” as in photographer, not as in hunter.

This week’s giveaway “Snap Decisions: My 30 Years as an Alaska News Photographer,” is more than just the moose-and-goose-in-the-spruce school of photography.

I do have to say, however, that the moose photo to the left is one of my favorite images ever published in the Anchorage Daily News.

What I learned from de-cluttering: The sequel.

June 9, 2015October 11, 2012 by Donna Freedman

Just before moving to Anchorage I wrote an MSN Money piece called “What I learned from de-cluttering.” But that was before I’d finished packing.

What I’ve learned since then? That I didn’t de-clutter enough.

It was shocking to see how many boxes I wound up putting in the moving van. As a result, I have half a dozen suggestions for your own future moves.

Here’s hoping these tips help you avoid merely paying lip service to de-cluttering.

Ice road U-Haulers.

October 1, 2012 by Donna Freedman

Thursday afternoon the temperature was in the mid-70s as my helpers and I rushed to pack my worldly goods into the 14-foot U-Haul parked outside my Seattle apartment building. A few days later? Driving through snow on the frost-heaved Al-Can.

Things may alter.

Fortunately, that was snow that had already fallen. Driving on frost heaves in blizzard conditions would have been a lot more unpleasant than bouncing over those same white-covered bumps. I’ll take slippery over zero-visibility any day.

Everything is elegiac.

September 19, 2012 by Donna Freedman

1918 Republic Trucks Moving Van © by aldenjewell

Yesterday I did my last real shopping trip at the nearby ethnic market: milk, yogurt starter, carrots, eggs, bananas, garlic, onion, a couple of oranges and some extra 99-cent spices to take up to Alaska. For example, I rarely see celery seed in most grocery stores — and when I do, it’s a teeny-tiny bottle for $5 or $6.

Rolling the shopping cart over there to stock up has become a pleasant little ritual for me. I’m really going to miss that store, especially as regards cheap produce. Fruits and vegetables are never cheap in Alaska.

Lately everything I do have been imbued with a ridiculous poignancy: