Ma Kettle, that’s what I called myself in the little Alaska shanty cabin in the woods near Healy. With no measuring cups, I was failing at making pancakes. The mix to milk ratio was off. There was a sticky burned mess on the bottom of the pan. The floors were made of plywood and I, the barefoot queen, wore my shoes at all times as to not get splinters. I hated the way walking barefoot in this particular cabin made my feet feel unbearably dirty. I cringed every time I looked up at the ménage à trois sign that decorated the cabin overhead. It was difficult for me to imagine…