Repatriation or re-entry.

Saturday, May 31, 2014
Fisherman and I have been "off the rock" for almost 2 weeks.  In that time he has been driving our "life" down the Alcan 2800+ miles and has done so with steadfast conviction armed with our camera to capture all the beauty of the trip.
In fact, many people have asked or have made comments of the beauty of Fisherman's trip and stated "how fun" or "that must have been amazing" assuming that I made the trip with my trailblazin' husband. NO DICE... I flew down from Anchorage.   There are two very strong reasons that I would not make the trip (not that I would not LOVE the scenery):

  1. Our truck was loaded to capacity, in fact our short jaunt from disembarking the ferry to Anchorage was brutal - I thought Fisherman was going to have to whip out a can opener and peel me from the truck with the jaws of life.  Literally, every square inch of our truck had stuff, stuffed.
  2. I am like a little child in a car.  "Are we there yet, are we there yet, are we there yet?" or after a hundred or so miles..."I'm D-O-N-E"!  If I would have attempted this jaunt, there would have been one less married couple in the world or there would be one more prisoner taking up space in the penal system - one of us would have killed the other. :)
I am truly grateful that Fisherman is able to do this and YES, he did see some amazing scenery, lots of bears, and actually did see "the forrest for the trees"...ha!

Upon arrival in Anchorage a new phenomenon has emerged...repatriation.  In short, though we were only on the island for 9 months, there are now some routine things that are ingrained in my head and I am not shy to say it has made re-adjusting to civilization somewhat hilarious.

One afternoon in Anchorage, our Best Man was having a dinner at his house when we found ourselves at Fred Meyer in search of some grocery items.  Fred Meyer, for those unaware, is like Target on steroids.  Fisherman stated, "you go find what you need, I'll grab what I need and then we'll meet at the checkout..." Well, 30 minutes later (and more than a little frustrated) Fisherman finds me wandering up and down the aisles with a dazed expression completely overwhelmed by all the choices.  I sheepishly looked at him and said..."I have no idea how to shop like this anymore."  I was literally drunk on the wide variety of items in the store and wanted to touch and hold all the fun home goods (I'm sure my basket was loaded with numerous items that made no sense).  I also had to get it out of my head that I didn't need to stock up for the Apocalypse or wonder how we would get our shopping loot "back to the island".  And to top it all off, I have actually had to re-learn how to carry my wallet with me...which I did not do the ENTIRE time on the island.

Finally, I have found myself (after I re-licensed my car in the Lower 48) driving around just to drive.  I will drive through a drive through and just order a pop, because I CAN - with the radio tuned to any one of a dozen stations that play music - truly a wonder!



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