Friday, July 30, 2010

The Moose Molar: or, when you know you're Alaskan

So the other day, while picking up in the far back row of our vehicle, the one I rarely dare venture into, and clean even less, and never without steadying my heart first (I never know what horrors await) this is what I found. A moose tooth. Which is not the worst thing I've found in my car, not by a long shot.

Not too bad, I thought. At least the skull wasn't still attached. Big Fish found it by the river the other day, but I didn't know she kept the car.

And then, it hit me: Big Fish really is interested in wildlife, and maybe she will be a vet after all. Furthermore, I felt Alaskan. For a brief moment, it was so tangible. Because life is mundane most days. Wherever you live, there you are. Living in Alaska can be exotic, but those moments seldom reveal themselves. Yet, this moment for me, was one of those. Usually I find notebook pages, drawings, pencils or remnants of nacho chips under the seats. And now, moose molar in back of car.... I checked it off on the list.

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