Muckboots

Although I've lived here many months, I occasionally get hit with a thought (not profound by any means) of, "Wow. I live in Alaska. I live in an isolated village-- so far from everywhere else!"

I had that thought yesterday as I tried to look for a sled at the school to haul some boxes home from the post office. My life went from always having a mailbox to now owning a P.O. Box in Alakanuk, AK. What's odd is the fact that I know from word of mouth if I received boxes or not. And what's even weirder is sometimes I already can guess that I do if I hear more planes flying in than usual.

The shadow from the plane my parent's flew in on.

A plane taking off while my class was playing on the deck (not great quality)

Today on my way home, I was happy with a package (my bed skirt from Amazon), thank you letters from my beautiful aunt, a medical bill, and some junk mail. I was walking on a newly barren mud road with plenty of dense snow on the edges. A high-school girl, who was standing with another girl, yelled out hello to me. When I asked them how they were doing, they stared back without answering. Then the first girl hollered, "Why are you still wearing your winter boots?" (Although the high temperature is hanging right around 32 degrees, people have been acting like it's suddenly summer.) My bright purple Muckboots are not only cute and comfortable, they are quite high-tech, flexible, very waterproof, and keep my feet at a nice temperature whether it is 20 below or 40 above (technically rated for -40 to 70, but I've noticed people who give those ratings must not actually test them out in Alaska very often).

So I decided to answer the girls by saying, "So I can do this!" I took a step off the road towards them. My foot broke the 1/2 inch ice on a 100-foot-across puddle of bright blue water surrounded by snow. I splashed my other foot in the 13 inch deep water. Their jaws dropped and then they started to smile.

I decided to step in any puddle, mud, or slush on my way to the house. What can I say? My Muckboots just make me enjoy walking through the muck. (These two pictures were showed in previous blogs from my trips to St. Mary's and Russian Mission)

Testing out my Muckboots in the first snow in St. Mary's, AK last fall.

Proving that my Muckboots are still going strong at the
time of the last bit of snow in Russian Mission, AK

Growing up in the wet rain and the "cold" weather in Washington doesn't seem so bad. When I went back to Washington, I had proper gear and wasn't complaining when others were. One thing I can say is I think Alaska has made me realize that sometimes a sweatshirt and flip flops aren't always sufficient and that there is absolutely no need to complain about a little cold or dampness when you have a warm jacket or waterproof shoes. (Again... these aren't profound thoughts on my mind tonight.)