A Weekend of Museums

With Summer now gone and Alaska's hurried version of Fall in full swing, many attractions in the Last Frontier use this time of year to give a last send-off before closing for six months of winter. We knew this past weekend would be the last for the Museum of Alaska Transportation and Industry, and since Mother Nature graciously let it stop raining on Friday, we were determined to take full advantage before they closed the doors till next year. Spread over a dozen acres here in Wasilla, MATI is a watershed of the pioneering technology and spirit that helped build Alaska's roads, farms, railways, flight routes, you name it. Brandon jokingly called it the Museum of White People. Nevertheless, it was an amazing look at the original planes, trucks, boats, trains and tractors that were used to transform a wilderness, and we bought a membership so we can visit again all next Summer.

While we toured the grounds of MATI we kept hearing what sounded like a train whistle, so we decided to investigate. Next door we found an absolute wonderland, called Alaska Live Steamers. Run solely by a handful of volunteers, these guys have managed to turn a few dozen acres of woodland into an incredible miniature world of rail. Once again, we managed not only to catch them on the last open weekend of the year, but they ran the train once more just for us, as they were preparing to shut down for the season. Every detail of an early 20th century rail yard was present, in about 1/10 scale. As long time aficionados of Thomas the Tank Engine, we knew what to look for. $16 later, we straddled padded bench cars, with an engineer sitting atop the caboose, and another astride the second of two Alaska Railroad engines, all of which was completely hand-made by our guides. The six of us chugged out of the "station" and on a make-believe journey that would do Walt Disney justice. Winding through the chilly woods, there were miniature houses, animals and people scattered along the line, with functional trestle bridges, train sheds, a tunnel and a roundhouse. It was awesome. Later, Stephanie mentioned in hushed tones that at one point she noticed large, fresh scat next to the tracks: recent bear activity.

Sunday was a museum of a different sort. The Anchorage Museum, Alaska's largest, with a world-class collection, was hosting a large event. Well, two, actually. They were celebrating the construction of their massive expansion, as well as hosting a free kids' day. In conjunction with The Imaginarium, a popular Anchorage science museum for kids, they put on quite the production, with science tables, biology displays and the large kids' art room. Pamyua performed live. Pronounced "Bum-yua", they're a Native band that mixes traditional sounds with contemporary influences, and are Alaska's equivalent of rock stars. The house was packed, and we had a lot of fun. And to top it all off, we then headed over to one of our favorite places, Title Wave Books. Imagine a Barnes & Noble-sized used book shop, with every genre and subgenre under the sun, plus music and Kaladi Bros. coffee. They have a terrific kids' section, so we hung out for a while reading, then finally drove home, out of energy, but with great memories, lots of photos and a handful of books in tow.

By the way, this past week was exciting for another reason. After just his first few weeks of kindergarten, Malcolm has already been awarded a special certificate for STUDENT OF THE MONTH! He attended a celebration with the other students in the school library and received a round of applause from his teacher and friends. We're so very proud of him. :)

Love always,

The Tuckers.

The lady in the picture.

Anna Lauyse Markheim died about one year ago now. Since then, I've wrestled with every emotion time and again. I've wailed like a baby, I've shrugged it off as a past concern. I've wondered endlessly what it would be like were she alive today, if she could see my children, watch Malcolm in his first year as a kindergartner, or see Chloe draw amazing illustrations with her left hand. Stephanie and I are trying to have another baby now. My brother Ryan and his wife Heather are already expecting, with three-dimensional sonogram images that would absolutely amaze Mom, could she view them as I have. Ryan recently visited the little riverbank where, on his 28th birthday, he and I buried her ashes last year in a bed of flower bulbs. He held up his cell phone and played the audio recording of his baby's heartbeat to her.

There's a lady who surrounds me and my family. She's in pictures all around. One depicts her dancing with me on my wedding day, the happiest day I've ever known. Another shows the two of us on a family vacation to the United Kingdom, shoulder to shoulder along the Cliffs of Dover. It wasn't supposed to be like this. Ryan and I were unabashedly close to Mom. We did everything together. She packed my high school lunches with the kind of thoughtfulness only a mother knows, and I ate them without embarassment, despite teenage insecurities. She was never a friend - she was always my parent, but one in whom I could confide the world. And now all I have is the lady in the picture, and my memories.

My children will know her through me, as will Ryan's through him. And in that sense, she will live on, though I'll always harbor a sadness for having lost her so soon. Malcolm has the faintest memories of his Nana. Chloe perhaps none at all, and our next baby will only know a name and a tale. But it's something.

Moose!

Mama and her Spring babies can't stay away from our raspberries, but there are plenty to go around. This is our first attempt at adding video to the blog, so bear with us as we slowly get better. :)

Oh, this is from Brandon standing in our kitchen the other day. Enjoy!

The Perfect Week

What a week! As you can see from all the photos, we've been extra busy. We started last Sunday with Chloe's party, complete with little girls (and two boys) all in pink. Monday was Malcolm's first day of kindergarten, and he was great. Stephanie dropped him off and Brandon picked him up. It was pretty heady stuff. We learned Tuesday that he and the other kindergartners actually ride the school bus in the morning, directly from their preschool parking lot. The trip is about half a mile long. So now our big kindergartner is also a school bus rider. Friday was Chloe's actual third birthday, and we threw her another mini-party with a few extra presents. She received some of her favorite things: clothes, a book and art supplies. Our dog Simon also managed to sniff out a porcupine a few feet away from where Brandon and the kids were playing out front, and got a snout full of quills for his curiosity. Brandon managed to yank them all out, but not without a few puppy whimpers. We can report however that once the quills were plucked, Simon was off searching for the porcupine again, tail wagging.

Yesterday we all went to the state fair, which has now become something of a tradition for us. We packed a ton of food, plus extra blankets and small pillows, making us the ultimate self-sufficient family on a budget. We broke down and bought fried cheese curds and a funnel cake, though that's practically manadatory. Otherwise it was all about the pony ride, face painting and every contrivance of carnival ride possible. Chloe eagerly lined up for a lovely pink unicorn on her cheek, which she sat through with a patience that still defies her parents' belief. The highlight of the day occured during the lumberjack show, when out of an audience of a few hundred, Malcolm was chosen by "Adam" to walk down to the woodlot and receive his just-carved kids' chair. Malcolm went to bed lastnight whispering that Adam is his new lumberjack friend. We saw the full-scale locomotive barbecue that can grill a whole pig, pet every breed of cow, sheep, goat, pig, chicken, rabbit and turkey known, watched skydivers descend over the crowd and even managed to slip in an afternoon nap in a shady corner between the baseball field and the residents of Oertha.

Today we took a picnic to Independence Mine State Historical Park. The weather has been beautiful lately, and we whiled away the afternoon with a bucket of the Colonel's finest, surrounded by a soft sea of crowberries, blueberries and salmonberries at 3,500 feet above sea level. It's hard to imagine a more lovely place. You can see with absolute clarity for miles. We'll be going back there while the "warm" weather lasts, to lounge amid the berry humps and sphagnum moss. It's like a gently rippling lake of soft, spongy berries, with the valley far below and only the crags and the brilliant sky above.

As always, we love you all.

-The Tuckers