Father’s Day

Yesterday I called my dad to wish him a happy Father’s Day. We chatted about the weather, some of the more colorful people who live in Fairbanks and then about my little farm. I told him about my coveting the Ruger 10/22 with neon sights and about rabbit hunting.

My dad told me to hang on for a second, covered the mouthpiece a bit and then pretended to have a conversation with my mom. He came back and said, “Your mom just told me that you were switched at birth.”

He’s a funny one, my dad. I am definitely different than my sister. Here’s what she prefers.

My sister Terry loves heat and sunshine. Here she is blogging from a hut in Bora Bora.

I admit that I am a bit different. The wilderness is definitely where I belong. I can live without amenities. I like to hunt, fish and trap. My little flock of chickens and my garden have given me a great deal of pleasure. That however does not mean my DNA does not match my parents. Let me provide some photographic proof that the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree.

My love of animals is a match.

Dad and his old dog Nick at the beach. Um, is that dog wrapped in a blanket?

So I’m not on a beach and Pee Pee isn’t wrapped up in a blanket but the love is the same.

We enjoy the woods.

My dad walks in the woods just about every day with Jack, the current dog.

I had a stalled dog team here (long story) and while I wasn’t exactly enjoying myself I was capable of taking care of the dogs and I in plummeting temps and the possibility of a very long night.

My mom and I both enjoy wine. I prefer mine by the glass from a bottle. Apparently she likes hers by the box.

Spring in New Brunswick and my mom celebrating with a box of wine.

Taken in the kitchen tent on the glacier. There were four of us enjoying wine, watermelon and brownies.

Our sense of humor is the same.

Dad used to have a Harley. He’s downgraded since then.

I am not entirely sure what Dad is doing here but it looks painful.

We are both very stylish.

Shorts and gum boots. Hmmmm.

On an Alaskan glacier.

On second thought maybe I was switched at birth…..

I really am not sure what my Mom was doing here.

Love,

Peg

 

 

 

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