Eighteen years ago the Little Black Dress and I dropped our car off at a shipyard in Seattle. I never expected to see it again.
We then boarded an Alaska Airlines flight — a first on that airline — and flew to Juneau, Alaska. Another first.
We were continually warned that it rained there, a lot. All I remember is flying into Juneau, determining how close we really were to those mountains, and arriving to perfect skies.