Perma-Wrinkles and My Support Staff

Nobody told me writing a huge book would translate into permenant wrinkles upon my forehead and around my eyes. In fact, nobody told me that when I write, I frown and squint and purse my lips as if I were sucking on a straw filled with sour lemonade. It would still be a mystery to me, and quite an acceptable one, in my thinking,  had my husband not taken a sneaky photo while I wasn't looking last weekend.

This past month has been full of words, and with an end of the draft manuscript of Alaska On the Go: Exploring the 49th State With Children in sight (I still can't believe I actually wrote such a volume of information about Alaska), I'm pounding the keys in an effort to ship this book to the prospective publisher by December 1.

Anyway, back to the perma-wrinkles. Our family took a few extra days off over the Labor Day weekend holiday to explore the way-back wilds of McCarthy and Kennecott Mines National Historic Landmark, a long, long way from Anchorage. After eight hours of driving along first the Glenn, then the Richardson, then the ancient Edgerton highway(s), we arrived at a surreal example of how Alaska probably looked when miners and saloon owners held claim to much of the settled landscape. It was fabulous. We hiked, we mountain biked, we ate a lot, then we slept. Surprisingly in the midst of all this recreation and rest I found time to work, especially one rainy, cold day when I kicked my family out the door and spent a few hours with laptop, coffee mug, and an exceptionally personal view from the living room of Kennicott Glacier Lodge.

I was so involved in my feverish desire to finish "just this section" that I failed to notice my husband lurking near the doorway, bike helmet on head and smartphone in hand, repeatedly hitting buttons.

"Did you know you're cute when you're working?" he casually asked, flipping through photos he'd taken, like a talent agent perusing a portfolio. A muffled giggle from behind the door signaled an appearance by our son, 7, who is just beginning to think it weird that his mom and dad actually say things like that to each other. Ick. And Hardly.

Don't even ask to look.