Last I heard from my Uncle Pete, (yes, the one who was in the paper posing with a potato he grew that was shaped like a moose), the fishing season had gloriously kicked in.
I always enjoy hearing these stories of him catching a ton of salmon and halibut. Right up until the point that it inspires deep wells of envy and jealousy to spring forth from my soul.
We have officially passed that exit:
WELL JEFF, GRACE AND BRIAN,THE "FISHIN" IS LOUSY, ALL WE GOT BESIDES A FEW CHICKENS THE OTHER DAY WAS THIS 77.4 HALIBUT AND THAT LITTLE 57 LBER. YOU CAN SEE WHO IS STANDING BESIDE THE BIG ONE. AND IF YOU CAN'T TELL WHO IT IS -IT'S ME~~!!
ALSO, THE RED SOCKEYES ARE RUNNING WILD. WE WENT DIPPING LAST WEEK. THREE OF US AND GOT 103 DANDIES. PLUS, THE BANK FISHIN FOR REDS IS BUSTING WIDE OPEN. THEY JUST RAISED THE LIMIT FROM 3 TO 6 A DAY.
GOLLY, THEY ARE MAKING US WORK AT THIS "FISHIN"--SOMETIMES I WONDER IF IT WOULD'NT BE NICER SWEATING AND SCREAMING, "TURN THE AIR CONDITIONER TO AS LOW AS YOU CAN GET IT." I SURE MISS THAT AIR CONDITIONING. UP HERE WE GOT TO GO OUTSIDE TO COOL OFF~~~~!!!! YOU GOT IT NICE DOWN THERE.PETE
PREVIOUS LETTERS FROM ALASKA:
Getting up close and personal with a bear.
Time to say goodbye for the winter.
Winter's coming. Time to head south.
The salmon don't stand a chance.
The Last Fuzzy Slipper Frontier.
There's a bar in them thar country.
Sunsets, salmon and civil ceremonies.
Volcanoes, churches and halibut.
A fantasy RV for The Last Frontier.
Heading north to the homestead.
Publicizing moose-shaped tubers.