The advantage of the internet is obvious- you can reach out and touch someone without that nasty, touchy-feely stuff. No chance of getting any kind of bug other that the occassional virus or a worm, but...I've software for that!
You don't spend money on coffee and the like while trying to have a conversation of little or no interest to yourself, or worse still, being amusing.
You can social network to your heart's content, without having to have anything than your long-johns on. Tootsies pointed to the fire all toasty like. A mug of coffee at the elbow, a dog at the feet, and a cat vying for space on your lap.
Yes, life is a rich pagent of colour, texture, and shape-especially when you have a nice plaid blanket over your knees!
Later, mushers!
Wednesday, February 13, 2008
Sunday, February 10, 2008
Visiting Students
There is a new face in Runamuk this week.
It is hard to overstate the importance of new people up here. After a while, everyone knows your stories, best punchlines, stupid animal tricks, and so forth. A new person means a new audience.
I met the Monday flight in with a spare parka in hand. A student was flying in for a stint at the "Institute of Higher Learning" (or the IHL). I'm note certain what the "Dane" will be studying, but my first guess would the ever popular receding ice pack. A topic, which like the hairline, grows in importance with each year.
Bjork will be working with "Wild Billy" Hopkins, a fellow southerner who came north because there were too many people down there.
Anyway, the kid is getting settled in, and I have to review my pet flea tricks.
Later, Mushers!
It is hard to overstate the importance of new people up here. After a while, everyone knows your stories, best punchlines, stupid animal tricks, and so forth. A new person means a new audience.
I met the Monday flight in with a spare parka in hand. A student was flying in for a stint at the "Institute of Higher Learning" (or the IHL). I'm note certain what the "Dane" will be studying, but my first guess would the ever popular receding ice pack. A topic, which like the hairline, grows in importance with each year.
Bjork will be working with "Wild Billy" Hopkins, a fellow southerner who came north because there were too many people down there.
Anyway, the kid is getting settled in, and I have to review my pet flea tricks.
Later, Mushers!
Tuesday, February 5, 2008
After many Miles...
A hot bath- a real soak, not a sprinkling- makes all the difference after an extended run on the sled. A chance for some time with no sound louder than water dripping, and the occasional groan of a body- to quote from Lethal Weapon I to infinity- "too old for this S***!"
Don't get me wrong. I can cover more territory, see more people, and do my job better on a sled, but the noise!
There are moments when, just stepping out in the snow, hearing the sound of your breath, and if you are lucky, the crystaline sound of snow being blown along the snow pack, makes you dream of days before snowmobiles. On those crystaline nights when there is nothing to be seen but the stars and aurora above, and the light of home close by, you can forget telephones and fax machines, e-mail and the trappings of modernity, and...breathe.
But, for now, what I need is to kiss the FCC good night, and get some sleep.
Later, Mushers!
Don't get me wrong. I can cover more territory, see more people, and do my job better on a sled, but the noise!
There are moments when, just stepping out in the snow, hearing the sound of your breath, and if you are lucky, the crystaline sound of snow being blown along the snow pack, makes you dream of days before snowmobiles. On those crystaline nights when there is nothing to be seen but the stars and aurora above, and the light of home close by, you can forget telephones and fax machines, e-mail and the trappings of modernity, and...breathe.
But, for now, what I need is to kiss the FCC good night, and get some sleep.
Later, Mushers!
Sunday, February 3, 2008
Old Sisters and Aging
The youngest of my three older sisters- here after to be referred to as my Old sister, Older sister, and Oldest sister- was up to on assignment, and felt it was time to celebrate my 50th.
I was "pleased."
I have spent much time and effort to ensure that, in the words of the great philosopher Red Green, "If you can't keep from getting older, you can still be immature." As would be expected, physical reminders of my impending plunge in the the second half of my first century are less than welcome.
I can't complain really. I recieved some great gifts. Books- expensive stuff when you consider the cost of shipping, boardgames- just what a hypercompetitive person needs to ensure solitude once the first game is over, and three bags of "Tim Hortons" coffee!
You can keep your coke, smack, and crystal meth. They don't do a thing for me, but give me an extra large double, double and you have one hyperactive, 275 lb. (125 kg- there are times when I love metric) fur ball!
I spent most of last night crouched in front of my FCC's face, eyes wide open, saying "You awake yet? You awake yet? You awake yet?"
I was "pleased."
I have spent much time and effort to ensure that, in the words of the great philosopher Red Green, "If you can't keep from getting older, you can still be immature." As would be expected, physical reminders of my impending plunge in the the second half of my first century are less than welcome.
I can't complain really. I recieved some great gifts. Books- expensive stuff when you consider the cost of shipping, boardgames- just what a hypercompetitive person needs to ensure solitude once the first game is over, and three bags of "Tim Hortons" coffee!
You can keep your coke, smack, and crystal meth. They don't do a thing for me, but give me an extra large double, double and you have one hyperactive, 275 lb. (125 kg- there are times when I love metric) fur ball!
I spent most of last night crouched in front of my FCC's face, eyes wide open, saying "You awake yet? You awake yet? You awake yet?"
For a generally mild manner person, FCC has a wicked left hook.
Now that I have come to, I have to stick my face in some snow to cut down on the swelling.
Later, mushers!
Friday, February 1, 2008
The Northerner's view of Dentistry
Local anesthesia is a marvelous thing.
After biting into the FCC's supper last night, I realized that one of my teeth had turned into an iceberg (90% unseen), and a painful one at that! Thankfully, the Great Canadian Mukluk Trading Post has a 24-hour dental clinic on the third floor.
So. On with the snowsuit (complete with my favorite mitts, complete with idiot strings), out the door of my lonely log cabin, across to the penthouse, and down the elevator to Doc Caine's office.
Doc was putting the finishing touches to the scrimshaw he was working on ("I have to do something with all these roots I'm left with"), when I came through the door.
Into the chair, a swab of something to numb the gums, something to numb the rest of my mouth, and a few minutes later, there it was...gone!
To show my gratitude, I let Doc keep the root. He said that he has something special planned for it. Apparently, he needed just one more piece of scrimshaw to complete the miniture nativity scene he was working on. Apparently, southern visitors believe him when he tells them that he uses teeth scavenged from carcasses found along the beach.
On my return to the lonely log cabin, I considered Doc's skill as both an artist and dentist, whether to tell FCC that more work is required on the new biscuit recipe, and was amazed how even drool freezes at -40!
Later, mushers!
After biting into the FCC's supper last night, I realized that one of my teeth had turned into an iceberg (90% unseen), and a painful one at that! Thankfully, the Great Canadian Mukluk Trading Post has a 24-hour dental clinic on the third floor.
So. On with the snowsuit (complete with my favorite mitts, complete with idiot strings), out the door of my lonely log cabin, across to the penthouse, and down the elevator to Doc Caine's office.
Doc was putting the finishing touches to the scrimshaw he was working on ("I have to do something with all these roots I'm left with"), when I came through the door.
Into the chair, a swab of something to numb the gums, something to numb the rest of my mouth, and a few minutes later, there it was...gone!
To show my gratitude, I let Doc keep the root. He said that he has something special planned for it. Apparently, he needed just one more piece of scrimshaw to complete the miniture nativity scene he was working on. Apparently, southern visitors believe him when he tells them that he uses teeth scavenged from carcasses found along the beach.
On my return to the lonely log cabin, I considered Doc's skill as both an artist and dentist, whether to tell FCC that more work is required on the new biscuit recipe, and was amazed how even drool freezes at -40!
Later, mushers!
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