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I have the hardest time getting good shots of my daughter these days. When she sees me coming with the camera, she either hides, makes a face, or she pastes on a fake smile that just doesn’t look like her at all. I can relate….

My Dad was a shutterbug; he loved to take photographs, and he took a lot of them. That’s where I get it from. This is a wonderful thing for collecting a treasure trove of family memories. On the other hand, neither he nor my mom were…

This is the house in which I grew up. It was my grandparents house, but it was my Grandmother who made it a home. In 1948, my Grandmother packed up her children, and left her beautiful home in Michigan, to join her husband in Alaska…

When my Grandparents moved to Alaska in the 1940s, it was still very much a frontier. It was both the wild, wild west, and the frigid north. Grandma took notes. By compiling and transcribing her notes, and sharing them on my blog, I’m fulfilling a promise…

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