He's SSSSSSuper!

I think that I may have forgotten to mention ManNorth's superhero status to all of you.

Hmm. Yes. I think I have, owing to it being secret and all. (Of course, this is no surprise to those of you who have met him, but we don't speak about it much publicly, owing to the superhero secrecy oath he had to take, which is itself secret. SHHHhhhhhhhhh.)

I really can't explain further as I'd completely give it all away but I can share this wee little bit about one aspect of his superhero pursuits: they involve fire...and the coordinated putting out of really really big ones.

Like this one depicted below by unknown and unnamed hapless citizens who now have the good fortune to have ManNorth (da da da dum) on their side.. or at least between them and the fire. (Er, actually, he has minions to do that for him, but I'm getting a bit sidetracked here.)

I'd give photo credits to the photographers if I knew who they were...but they arrived by secret post along with super secret messages that couldn't be decoded.

Yep. I'm feeling rather proud of him today and missing him no small amount. I'm also hoping that he's taking lots of photos too before he jets off back to me here in Northern Town (hopefully) next week.

Garden denizens

Using willow twigs as plant stakes is fine, but what they are really great for is for making things. Things like baskets or, in the case of my garden, birds!

One day after seeing willow baskets in the greenhouse that had been made by someone to hold their hanging plants, I began thinking about how the pliable twigs could lend themselves to other uses, such as for sculpture. I thought that I probably could create a bird for my garden by winding willow twigs together. So, I had a lovely walk through the woods one evening with a pair of pruning shears and a large bag to collect my twigs and then came home to spend a fun weekend on the couch surrounded by twigs, pliers and thread (which I used sparingly and only for the really ornery twigs that wouldn't stay in place).

What do you think? Here is bird #1(for which I was happy that it simply looked bird-like):

and bird #2 (I love her feet!):

and bird #3 (He's a bit more difficult to spot when visitors try to find all four birds.):and bird #4 (For some reason, it's this one's belly that I'm most proud of.):

I ran out of both my willow branches and my weekend after finishing the hummingbird but still intend to get some more branches for a big raven or owl to perch up on the top of the frame and maybe also have a go at creating a squirrel who could run along the edge. We'll see about that (as I created these birds more than a month ago and have yet to make more) but for now, I like the unique contribution they make to our garden. I've also been asked to do a workshop on making willow birds and may do so, but secretly, I like the idea that only my plot has them in it.

Welcome to our garden!

Naturegirl (who truly takes amazing photos) recently posted about the trials and tribulations of gardening in small spaces (i.e. a small shady backyard) and I realized that I've not shown any photos of our garden space here in the far north. With 24 hours of sunlight each day for almost two months straight, plants grow wonderfully, so long as they are watered and warm -conditions which an attentive gardener and the shelter of a greenhouse can provide.

I'll save the photos of our sad, sad looking balcony plants for our home archives and take you all on a tour of our community greenhouse where ManNorth and I were fortunate enough to have rented a small plot for our own garden this spring and summer. These plots are a hot commodity in NorthernTown and we missed getting a plot last summer by only a week after our arrival last year. Although we were on a waiting list, no spaces opened up for us until this spring.

We began working our plot at the end of May and had planted our seeds and seedlings that we had started indoors (in small flats and empty buttermilk cartons, of all things) by the beginning of June. Working the plot initially meant breaking up the somewhat frozen soil, mixing in lots of compost and watering, watering and watering again.

Here's what our plot looked like then:

The tall bushy plant on the left is actually a tomato plant we had started indoors almost a year ago. Since it started producing flowers and fruit in the winter, we figured it had earned the right to join the garden, irregardless of its tall, leggy twisted shape. The plants in the foreground to its right are some of the pepper plants that we had also planted the summer before. These had begun flowering and fruiting under our grow lights in the winter and were still producing new flowers. About halfway back and in this order from the front to the rear of the plot are the tomato, bean and cucumber plants we had started in milk cartons full of soil. The twigs poking up all over the place to stake and support all the plants are willow switches that we gathered up from piles cut and discarded by road crews, clearing the snow from roadsides all winter. (Unfortunately, the twigs were all still alive and not only put down roots, but flowered and grew leaves. To avoid a garden full solely of willow bushes next year, we've pulled out most of the twigs and have stripped the leaves from the few that remain.)

As you can see from the photo of the greenhouse below, we'd gotten a bit of a jump on all the other gardens.

This is what the greenhouse looks like now, only six or seven weeks later:

The blue barrels, which act as water reservoirs, are filled in the spring when the pipes are still frozen by a greenhouse member who is also a volunteer firefighter (as all the town firefighters are). He'd arrive with the fire truck and hose and pump water from the truck to fill all the water barrels for us. Since the pipes have thawed, garden hoses are used to fill the barrels and gardeners use small green watering cans to then move the water from the reservoirs to their gardens. This is an organic greenhouse, so all members agree to leave the Miracle Grow (TM) at home and fertilize only with organic compost or organic fertilizers. The same goes for pesticides, although I've yet to see more than the occasional spider or fly in the greenhouse so pesticides aren't at all necessary.

This scarecrow above, planted in a communal garden and next to a disfunctional fountain hidden in some rocks, is not only pointing directly at our plot (now sporting a dark brown wooden frame), it is wearing a face I sewed for it, an old purple shirt I no longer needed and my old field hat (Hey now, no comments are needed from the peanut gallery: it was hot, sunny and for my field work I was literally bending over plants in cow pastures for 14 hours a day. The hat was wonderful). The pants were already a part of the scarecrow which had been created by someone else and then sadly neglected since last year. I'd grown tired of stepping over it as it lay on a walkway in the spring, sans head, and decided that I'd spruce it up a bit.

Here's our plot as it looks now, complete with a frame that ManNorth and I built and stained.

And from another angle:
The lettuce and swiss chard are in the front (I've had to cut back the swiss chard after they began bolting and so they are slightly hidden by the lettuce) and our enthusiastically growing zucchini plants are hiding the peppers that are still flowering and fruiting behind and under them. The tomato plants have grown almost as tall as the frame.

Here are our greens close up:

(On the left is a row of parsley, basil, thyme and onions)

And from the back, here are our cucumber plants (which have yet to produce more than one 2cm long cucumber):

I planted sweet peas at the edges of the frame near the middle of the plot simply for the visual pleasure of them and for their gorgeous smell!

Above are our volunteer peas which must have grown from seed dropped from the garden in our plot the year previous. We didn't weed them out and they now tower above our beans and cucumbers. I don't think that they are snow peas but if one catches them before they get too big, the husks are also edible and somewhat sweet.

I've many garden photos and will post a few more soon, especially of some unique decorations that now populate our garden...

Yes, yes, we're alright!

Whew!

I can't believe that I've not posted since April.

No, I take that back. I know full well that I've not.

I've felt guilty.

I've missed you all.

I've missed sharing stories with you.

I've been busy.

I've finally been all of the first three and a little bit of the last all at once and so here we are,

kicking off year two off this blog.

I've many stories to share from the past TWO months (good grief, and apologies all around) so my thanks to those of you who have ventured back here to check up on me.

I've also discovered that I had a whack (A whack, I tell you!) of "sent" emails that never got sent and darned if I can't figure out why they won't send and how to send more. This isn't with gmail of course, but an apparent problem with my computer/email account that I paid/pay for.

Keep sending email as I can read 'em -I just can't reply as of yet.

ManNorth has been itching to post on the blog for a while and he's gone and written a post, complete with a photo illustration so momentarily, I'll put up his article.

(Hurray, two posts in one day!)

I'll leave you with this tidbit that might keep you guessing. Kudos to those of you who guess correctly.

Last month ManNorth and I saw FOUR of these fly past our apartment balcony. We heard their loud calls (hint, hint) long before they flew past and so we dashed out onto the balcony in our robes as they went by. (ManNorth of course, pointed out that this is the first time since we moved here that I've thrown caution to the wind and ventured out without being, ahem, properly attired. And it was worth it:

photo copyright TPWD

http://www.tpwd.state.tx.us/huntwild/wild/species/

I just wish we'd had time to grab our camera!

Northern Groceries Part II

Subtitled: Other foods that may gross you out but really are rather good (mostly).

A few weekends ago, ManNorth and I (or is it ManNorth and me? -Grammarphile, you're making me nervous!) checked out a spring carnival that was happening in Northern Town and was entirely located on the frozen river. Spring, of course, being essentially the same as winter here, only with carnivals and a wee bit more sunshine.

Check out the wooly fringe on the hood of the woman in mauve!
(I was hesitant to snap a photo of her from the front without her permission and was too shy to ask.)

I love the winter clothes for kids here in Northen Town.

A competitor in the log sawing competition. The man with the microphone broadcast the event to the onlookers (when he wasn't singing songs by Johnny Cash).

Sadly, we missed the sled dog races, which for some reason were held farther down the river. Bystanders who witnessed the races had to drive down the ice road to the race start and then follow along behind the dogs. I've no idea why they couldn't start and finish at the main event site as for all of the rest of us on foot, we couldn't see a thing that was going on and of course, found ourselves spending time until other events started by eating unusual foods.

We checked out some of the tents that were set up on the ice, replete with warm wood stoves, and found that some of them were selling more than just hot dogs and candy floss. How about eating some of these loveable (and edible) animals:
I've tried caribou soup before as it is served for free at a band office near my workplace every Wednesday. (It's wonderful!) I note that the advertisement is for reindeer soup, which may be legally sold as it is probably from farmed reindeer. Currently caribou hunting is tightly regulated and the meat cannot be sold. I've eaten moose and elk before; they were prepared in a fantastic marinade and then roasted medium rare. MMMMmmmm. (This, from me and I was once an ardent vegetarian!!) Until this carnival weekend however, I'd never had muktuk, nor expected that I'd ever willingly eat part of a beluga whale, especially the skin and some of the fat under it.

I drew the line at Eskimo ice cream, which is much different than Indian ice cream in the south.
Indian ice cream is made with sugared whipped buffalo berries (also known as soap berries or soupallilie) which whip up into an egg white like frothy mixture. With the addition of sugar, this is a nice treat, but without the sugar, is rather like eating whipped soap, replete with a soapy aftertase. Eskimo ice cream is whipped whale fat with berries added for colour and flavour. Somehow the idea of simply eating spoonfuls of lard, no matter how prettily coloured, just wasn't appealing to me. I did try the muktuk, which was boiled and not served raw as is traditional.
This was not so Mmmmmm as the caribou soup, but not disagreeable either. It was sort of fishy tasting, which I hadn't expected and it was okay salted. I had a few cubes from a container purchased by a friend. I think that fulfilled my calorie allotment for the entire week! I admit having some reservations about eating all these animal products and not because I'm squeamish. I'll try most kinds of food, but where I draw the line is eating animals whose populations or species are endangered. This isn't the direction I really wanted this blog post to go, so I'll leave off a discussion of the ethics of consuming wildlife or animals in general for another time.

For now, I'll just say to most of you, "Ew, you eat chickens?"

;)

Northern DINKS

Now, before all of you get concerned about this post's title, it's not what you think it means. I was laughingly instructed by ManNorth this morning to describe he and I as of today, as a couple, as DINKS. (As in Double Income No Kids).

That's right all you internets, I'm employed and I started work today!








Hooray!!!


Here are some of my first day of work highlights:

-My computer refused to give me internet access and the IT guy can't come in until (maybe) sometime tomorrow to see why it's acting as though it knows me.

-I was asked to play harmonica in the company band. (Thankfully, I only fell for the joke for a few seconds. Okay, maybe it was a minute and I spent that time panicking at the thought of my nonexistent musical skills and tendancy to slobber the few times I've tried the harmonica. My horror must have been obvious for my new boss quickly let me know, with some concern, that she was only joking.)

-I served myself and drank coffee from a pot of coffee that was so old that no one knew when it had been brewed or that the (obviously unplugged) machine even had coffee in it. I did wonder at all the CoffeeMate floaties refusing to sink and disperse after adding the whitener and should have realized that it doesn't dissolve in cold liquids. (Note to self: bring my own milk to work). After spitting it out, I drank water the rest of the day.

-I'm now an -ologist (!), albeit a "casual" one. (Hint, hint)

Hey! It's a lookout!

On Saturday ManNorth and I went on a small adventure that gave me a chance to check a few “firsts” off my list. Here’s a smattering of them, along with some photographic evidence.

1. I travelled the farthest north I’ve ever been.

2. I both melted and added to the ice of a winter ice road. (Hey, when one’s had too much coffee and there isn’t an appropriate facility for hundreds of miles around, what else is one going to do?) No, there’s no photographic evidence of that. Here’s another section of the road instead.
3. I crossed a section of Canada’s northern tree line and was surprised at how abruptly it ended. See the trees on the closest two hills on the right? There’s only one on the next hill and then nothing but tundra. 4. I drove on, walked on, ate and drank the Beaufort Sea (also known as the Arctic Ocean). (Drinking occurred after I hacked off a piece of ice from a pressure ridge, had it freeze to my tongue and then melt. It wasn’t as salty as I thought it would be. Eating was accomplished by chewing some of the ice.) 5. I climbed on a pressure ridge made of sea ice and marvelled at how much it looked like a frozen wave. (The formation of the ridge necessitated relocating a portion of the winter road onto the southern side of the ridge. You can see the old section of the road on the left side of the photo below.)
6. I saw my first pingo 7. ..and then I saw a whole bunch of them. 8. I discovered that although groceries are expensive in Northern Town, prices aren’t bad compared to those of Northern Hamlet. 9. I was asked, quite loudly and enthusiastically, if I was “Spikin?!?” by a happy woman wearing beautifully beaded sealskin boots on our way into the Northern Store in Northern Hamlet. “No,” I answered rather confusedly, although I wondered if perhaps we were or should be.

Big Red even experienced a few firsts, one of which she was quite familiar with, although never this far north:
1. She was the farthest north she’d ever been.
2. She got to drive on the Arctic Ocean. 3. She got stuck the farthest north she’s ever been and for a truck that has been stuck pretty much any where she goes, this wasn’t a particular surprise, although we’d hoped she’d forgo the thrill of it in Northern Hamlet.
(She capitalized on the opportunity to get stuck while making a sharp turn from Northern Hamlet back down a steep and narrow slope onto the ice road. In spite of her winter tires, they wouldn’t grip enough to back out of the snow bank she was close to sliding into, which she’d ended up in because her turning radius was too big, she has only rear wheel drive and the steeply angled road was made of ice. Before we could pull out the tire chains, two friendly and bemused locals helped her & us out, with a friendly tip to ManNorth that the trick of winter driving here is to avoid the snow banks. I completely forgot to take a picture to the very great appreciation of ManNorth who had been the one behind the wheel.)

One of the men helping us out informed us that a local hunter had just taken a polar bear quite close to town a few days ago, making it a total of three bears successfully hunted by the community this winter. He chuckled and said that it was lucky to take a bear so easily without having to go far and that it was good that someone was having fun in the cold. (Not the bear, of course.)

Last but not least, here’s my favourite story from our weekend adventure:
While driving around doing the secretive-touristy thing through Northern Hamlet (which involves looking like lost tourists while wandering around and hiding one’s camera while taking photos on the sly), we found a road that seemed to be taking us to one of the nearby pingos. I was keen to get a closer look and was pleased when the road abruptly ended at the edge of a small pond with a pingo perfectly framed between two low hills. Tourists who come this far north are sure to visit at least one of the nearby pingos and so I wasn’t the least bit surprised to see that the local residents had decided to capitalize on the tourism and create the road and lookout to the nearest pingo for their occasional tourists.

I did wonder though, at the material used to create the barrier, believing for a moment that they’d used whatever scrap metal they had on hand.

Of course, ManNorth was shaking with laughter at my shout of “Hey! It’s a lookout!” and my musing about the barriers for we’d just arrived at Northern Hamlet’s sewage lagoon. “Can’t you smell what you’re standing in?” ManNorth inquired with a huge smile as I took a look under my feet at the brownish ice and a second look at the “lookout barriers”.

Hmm. That explained what the big truck leaving the lookout had been doing just before we drove up and why part of the lagoon was still steaming.

I won't leave you with that lovely image of the lagoon. Here's a favourite photo of the sea ice and another taken on our way back home.