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National Geographic : 1973 Jan
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FAR FROM GROCERY STORES, I make all our bread, turning out three loaves every five days. I love it when the baking smells fill the cabin. Chena's pups, Buddy and Lib, bask in a warm spring sun; the strong-mindedfemale is named for Women's Liberation. Before the highway came, we ordered staples such as flour, milk, coffee, and sugar by mail from Anchorage. When the store put our order on the trainfor Hurricane,it broadcast the news over "North wind," a radio program of messages for bush people. Now we can drive to Talkeetna or Anchorage. OUR SNOW PILES DEEP, as evidenced by a clothesline that is over my head in summer. MOOSE-MEAT STEAK comes off a leg stored in our naturaldeepfreeze, the woodshed. Pete kills one moose each fall. What we don't eat in winter, I preserve. VIN WAILS beside the plastic trash can that we store water in. At times like these, no matter how busy I am, I interrupt my chores to console distraught sons who have only their parents to rely on for companionship. PETERROBINSON(ABOVE)ANDJOHNMtl K t
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