Going back to the office was kinda difficult. It was just so much fun to get to play pioneer girl for the week at the moose pens. Their volunteer house was a real live log cabin complete with gas powered stove, fridge, lights and an out house. I was pretty much channeling my inner Laura Ingles Wilder and loving it. I don't know how much I would have liked it come December, though. Probably better to get out before the first big snow.
To beat away the work week blues Heather, Charlie and I took a half day off work that turned into a whole day to go clam digging. Again I found myself calling forth a version of myself from a past life, this time bringing out my inner hunter-gatherer. Equipped with a shovel and pail, we headed out to Clam Gulch on one of the biggest tides of the month to scoop up some dinner. 120 clams later, I learned that the hardest part of clamming is not the hour or two digging clams, but the entire afternoon and evening it took to clean them. Not only is it time consuming slow work, but the clams' feet move even after they have been cut into little pieces.
Regardless of the traumatizing cleaning experience, they sure tasted good and I feel like I am starting to earn my Alaskan stripes.