There were some interesting "folk art" hobbies which were - and undoubtedly still are - popular among many Alaskan residents.
Painting goldpans, for example. (Some people took this a step further and added clock hands on the front of the pan and a small battery powered gearbox on the back). These creations adorned many a wall in Alaskan homes.
And then there was the Fungus Movement, in which the artist would collect the fungi which grew on birch trees in order to paint colorful scenes on them:
Not just any fungus would do, however. For painting and display, the ideal fungus needed to have a smooth, flat surface for the "face" which was to be painted, and the fungus also had to be shaped in such a way that it could stand upright on a desk, shelf or mantle. The perfect fungus didn't grow on trees, you know! Well, actually...it did. You know what I mean. The perfect "painting fungus" could be hard to find.
And that is why Mrs. McKellar (Nora) sent Greg off into the woods near the Chatanika River with a large bucket during one of our camping trips. Greg was to collect a bunch of fungi from the area birch trees and bring them back to his mother, who would choose the ideal "candidates".
Looking back, Greg and his younger sibling Doug might well have been the inspiration for Bart Simpson. Using a brand new Xerox machine in an office building near their home on the north end of Ft. Wainwright (without permission, naturally) the McKellar brothers Xeroxed their bare butts
before anyone gave them the idea that one could use a photocopier for that purpose. That's ingenuity, man! And that's the mildest stunt they pulled in my presence. I won't even write about some of the others.
Back to Greg with his bucket in the birch trees around the Chatanika River. Greg also took along a .22 rifle, which he liked to shoulder when he went off into the woods. Being a few years older than Doug and I, Greg was allowed to do this. He picked off a squirrel with the .22 and placed its bloody corpse in the bottom of the bucket. A bunch of fungi were placed on top of that. Greg then took the bucket back to his unsuspecting mother, who awaited her son's fungal harvest while socializing in the family camper.
Nora looked forward to sorting through the fungi that her son had so thoughtfully gathered for her. Fungus by fungus, Nora evaluated each piece.
45+ years later, I can still hear the scream that reverberated throughout the confines of that camper when Mrs. McKellar unknowingly uncovered the bloodied rodent corpse at the bottom of that bucket.
It was a scream followed by laughter.
Nora was a good sport and even though I was a child she always struck me as a gregarious fun-loving person.
With two boys like Greg and Doug, I imagine her naturally positive disposition helped her a great deal in coping with two such monsters.
