Other than my immediate family, nothing in the world matters to me more than my friends. I've got close friends of both genders that I've known since age 3 or 4, and others I only met a few years ago. They're spread out across the country and the world, but it's never felt effortful to keep in touch, because I'm endlessly interested in their lives.
Closer to home, there's something unique about my female friends in Alaska, and particularly in Juneau. Creepy polygamous implications aside, I loosely refer to these women in my mind (and sometimes out loud) as sister wives.
Juneau and the rest of Alaska feel small enough to offer a glimpse into what communities were like before everyone lived in silos: when women raised children together; cooked together; worked together; and life was just generally more communal.
A rainy day with hyper kids and a house full of laundry is instantly transformed into a great time when I can share it with a sister wife or two. A woman doesn't need to be married or have kids to be a sister wife, either. She's a sister wife to me if we can "sister wife out," as I call it. Sister wifing out basically involves hanging out at home; helping ourselves to the contents of each other's kitchen cabinets; having great conversations; doing each other's laundry and dishes; entertaining and disciplining each other's kids; and just generally keeping ourselves sane.
It rains and snows like crazy here. But as far as sister wives are concerned, there's no brighter place on earth.