I’m writing from my kitchen counter, sitting on one of the few things not making the journey to Washington: our kitchen stools. Behind me, three people are wrapping and taping up nearly everything we own. They start loading the truck tomorrow. We are down to one drawer, one cabinet, one coffee ma...

As my move out of Alaska gets closer, I find myself increasingly reflective. There is something to the  saying that life is what happens while we’re making plans. Nineteen years ago, I finally gave in to my husband’s persistent suggestion that we go “look” at Alaska. We stepped off the plane, fel...