First, let me mention a new feature at the Alter Ego. No more BIGGER links. Simply click a picture once and if I’ve loaded a larger version it will appear automatically. If I didn’t it won’t.
Weird contraction that, “won’t.” Adhering to the rules I’ve always thought it should be willn’t.
Alas, nobody asked me.
As mentioned, Dr. Jeff and his wife, Dr. Wendy, were in Alaska for a week and stopped by. I love this. As soon as they stepped out of the rental car titular greetings and hugs were exchanged… “Doctor, Doctor; Doctor, Doctor.” In fact, the salutation is not really titular when applied to Wendy as she really does help people. By comparison Jeff and I are poseurs. Still, we’ve all got the club card and it’s fun to pull it out, especially in the company of academic kin.
They and Happy Wife (HW) meandered down to our Nest under a bluesky day; I followed a day later, also under bluesky. It just keeps coming. Fun and frivolity ensued. Including a walk to Tonsina Point with the beasts (aka dogs):
Here’s your chance to test drive the new feature. Click the picture. Feel the magic!
Why HW’s hand is on the butt of an Airedale I’ve no idea. Some questions are better left unasked.
I’ve other things to talk about. Like the irreconcilable difference between HW and I when it comes to pleasant summer weather. Have I mentioned this here before?
Last night, back in Anchorage, we were settling in for the evening behind a glass of wine or three watching the latest episode of Fargo while being graced (HW would say cursed) by the warming rays of evening sun shimmering through our living room window. Roughly 8 o’clock. Granted, when said rays of light stream directly into my eyes it can be annoying, but this is brief and requires only that I change chairs. Other than that, sunshine beaming in through the window past 8 pm is a delicious feature of an Alaskan summer. Payback really, for the accumulated deficit of winter. That is if you ask me anyway.
Ask HW and you hear something very different:
“I hate summer.”
Evidently she overheats easily. Were it not toxic I’d consider mixing her a drink of ethylene glycol. Instead, I lovingly reassure her, “There there dear, don’t worry, it will be September before you know it.” And quietly lament the fact that I know it’s true.