Still, there’s something so wild and untouched about Alaska that leaves me longing for more every time we visit. It could be the moose that graze in the front grass of our friends’ home. It could be the bear black bear that meandered his way up their drive. It could be the midnight sun, the forests packed tightly next to town, or the severe mountains with ice-blue glaciers that meet frozen seas.

But, Alaska for me is a state of mind. It’s traveling back in time. Sure, that could be due to the fact that the state boasts a meager 700,000 residents which means there’s over a square mile of land for every man, woman and child. I suppose hiking around a corner and running into a mama moose and her calf, or attaching bear bells to my backpack help to establish the idea that Alaska at its core doesn’t quite belong to us. In Alaska, whether on a remote trail or next to a big box store life remains untamed. Tapping into this untamed land (even for a short chunk of time) reminds me to embrace our wild open spaces and get out and explore.

But on to other news…my blog is just one of many things that has sat neglected while enjoying this near-perfect Pacific Northwest summer.  It’s been an unusual summer in some ways as we’ve flipped between a flurry of events and ultra-lazy days lounging in the sun.  We’ve been reading some of my childhood favorites, including John D. Fitzgerald’s The Great Brain.  I so love hearing Luke laugh out loud at the adventures of J.D, Tom and Sweyn.  “The Water Closet” chapter has gotten a ton of play in our household.  Some stories, particularly those involving toilets and first grade boys, stand the test of time.

Our trip to Italy may have permanently ruined him for childhood camps.  After talking up how cool the Dino Camp he attended last week was going to be, he was convinced that he and his buddies would be excavating and searching for actual dinosaur bones and historical sites.  His comment after the first day, “Uh, Mom, we just dug for plastic stuff, it wasn’t a real dig site like in Rome.”  Right.  Good to know.

Summer vacation has also consisted of building a secret passage in the hedge between our house and the neighbor’s, S’mores on the BBQ, sleeping in, hours spent exploring outside, and an addiction to the mindless TV show Wipeout. 

While the boys have gone off on muddy fishing adventures, I’ve been working with my publisher on the launch of Underneath the Ash!  I still pinch myself sometimes when I think about it.  Check back tomorrow for a sneak peek of the cover design.  I love it.  I know my mom would have too, and that’s the best gift of the entire summer.

In the Vatican, Luke created his own treasure hunt after learning from our guide that most statues had leaves strategically placed over their “natural parts.”  He delighted in finding statues still in the buff and was equally awed by the enormity and beauty of St. Peter’s Basilica.

An afternoon spent wandering the ground of the Colosseum led to imaginary adventures of battling tigers and finding a secret trial along Palatine Hill where real life archaeologists were excavating a dig site.  Luke scampered on the cobblestone path and found nooks and crannies inside the monument that Gordy and I would have easily breezed by. 

I credit the ease of the trip with the simple fact that we’re blessed to have an amazing little traveler in our family and the fact that we were prepared with a tiny bag of tricks in the form of a pocket full of coins.  We were ever-ready to stop at a moment’s notice, pull out a coin, and let Luke launch a wish.  Plus, snack breaks for salami and gelato were a well-deserved treat for us all.  I’m so glad we didn’t heed the advice of skeptics and equally glad I was able to experience Rome through Luke eyes.  Legend claims that tossing a coin into the Trevi Fountain ensures a return trip and that’s a wish I know we all hope is granted!

Throughout the years my friendships have evolved and grown, often mirroring where I’m at, at a particular moment in time.  Co-workers became friends when I was fresh out of college and always up for a night out on the town.  The past few years I’ve gravitated to friends with young children who I’ve met at the park or play-dates.  These silver friends are new and shiny like a dime fresh off the minting press.  They represent today.  Some morph into long term gold friends and other drop off as paths shift in new directions.

But, then there are the gold friends–friends who’ve known me young.  Friends like the ones we traveled with this holiday season who camped out in the snow for two days to score Rose Bowl tickets the last time we went (this time they were purchased online thank with a quick flash of a credit card thank you very much).  My gold friends and I have seen each other through breakups, deaths, and staggering joy.  They’ve become family over the years, the kind of friends I knew I can call at 2am and travel the world with.  While my gold friends may be smaller in number, our friendship has aged and remained steadfast with the passing of time. 

So, with the dawning of a new decade thank you to my silver and gold friends, and here’s to those of friends yet to be.

Coffee shops signage touted “Peppermint mochas now in season.”  Really?  Under a backdrop of swaying palms, perpetual sunshine and Luke bowling oranges in my brother’s backyard it felt more like iced latte season to me.  I suppose it’s all a matter of perspective.  As we lounged on the beach clad in shorts and flip flops, natives walked past bundled from head to toe in scarves and stocking caps.  That’s the joy of travel for me feeling transported, even when in this case we were a mere two states away from home. 

So this Thanksgiving we embraced the warmth of the sun, the smell of turkey on the grill, and the delightful taste of peppermint mochas under palm trees.  Regardless of location or the temperature outside, the best part of traveling south was spending the holiday with family.

For me there were pros and cons of cruising.  On the con side, I’m not a huge fan of crowds.  Our ship housed over 3,000 guests and 1,000 staff.  We quickly learned to avoid the buffets and hairy chest contests on the Lido Deck.  The other con for me was that before we left people raved about the food on cruises.  If the focus on food is quantity versus quality then the revues are true.  But, I was disappointed in the food and food choices.  After long days spent in the sun and salty sea air a dinner of beef with bolognaise sauce and potatoes with gravy was not high on my list.  I’m sure I was in the minority though.

On the pro side, the vacation sailed on cruise control.  From entertainment to babysitting there wasn’t much we had to think about on any given day, other than which cocktail to choose.  We snuck away from the crowds at each port of call and explored on our own.  Monkeys nibbled on Luke’s ears, we lounged in hammocks on a private beach in Belize, tooled around Honduras with a local tour guide, explored Mayan ruins, and ate fresh coconuts.  It was an incredible way to see places we might not have ventured to on our own, and provided the only requirement I ever have for a vacation:  total relaxation!

Oh, back to our epiphany…we realized all of our travels should occur between November and April.  We’ll get away in the bleak gray drudges of winter and soggy spring.  But summer, we’re staying put.  We’re picking berries, lounging for lunchtime tunes in the park, watching movies under the stars.  We’re sleeping in and camping out.  Our days end with grass stains, dirty feet, and sun-kissed skin.  I only hope it’s enough to last through winter.    

Which leads me to distraction.  I’ve decided summer is the ideal antidote for waiting for responses from agents.  I have varying levels of full and partial manuscripts out for consideration.  I know it’s been a while since I’ve posted a book update, that’s because nothing much has changed…still waiting.  I’ve heard from writer friends and published authors who claim it’s all part of the game.  Somehow I’m not bothered by the waiting.  It’s summer, I’ve got better things to do.  Ask me again in January.        

Each year come October I begin to crave rain.  I’m ready for vats of soup, cozy sweaters, and a fire to read by.  I love the changing seasons.  I don’t mind hunkering down for the winter.  The cold wet rain lends itself to writing and reading (my two favorite pastimes).  The problem is about mid-February or early March, my love affair with the rainy season is over.  I’m done.  Not seeing a hint of blue sky for months on end makes me restless.  The once refreshing rain has me soggy and has washed all my creative energy away.  My poet dad would call this the ides of March.  This year I opted to laugh in the face of the ides and seek some sun.

When my best friend from college called to ask if I was game for a trip to the desert with the kiddos, I was clicking the purchase button before we hung up the phone.  Luke went cactus crazy with his best buddies, and future bride (pictured above).  And for the record, she asked him.  She’s a woman of this new century after all.  I lounged in the sun, letting the vitamin D seep into my pores.  We hiked, swam, and checked under the bed for snakes at night.  It was just the hit of sun I needed.  I think this must become an annual event.