In case you were wondering

I could probably count how many times I've thought to myself:  "dang self, I love winter" on the unicorn or narwhal like bony protrusion on my forehead. 

Zero times.

This was on the inside of our rental cabin window at -30ish

Dear every single lip balm i've ever owned:

Where were you when I needed you?

YUKON QUEST START! dogs dogs dogs!

This is going to be a quick one but I want to pound it out or else I won't get it done.

The 1,000 Mile Yukon Quest sled dog race started in Whitehorse today. (I did a summer placement with the Quest when I was pregnant with Juni. Having just moved to the north I was new to all of this mushing stuff and had to learn fast so I could inform tourists who popped by the office and research and write a few issues of the newsletter. Scroll down through the newsletter link and look for the little piece I wrote about how Brent Sass trains in the summer and another piece about one of my favorite mushers Normand Casavant and how a few of his retired dogs are livin' the dream.

 Ok...here we go...the family...

A dog truck. Lots of barking and excitement. A few of Casavant's dogs are getting a back rub from his handler/ladyfriend Karin up by the fence.

Musher Brent Sass gets a kiss from all of his dogs before he takes off. Pretty much the more adorablah (rtm) thing ever. 

Some of my favorite dogs are in Dave Dalton's team. They are a gang of blue eyed beauts who spend the summer getting jacked by pulling fat toursits around on a glacier up in Alaska.

3 people have to hold the sled at the start because the dogs are rearing to go. These are more of Brent's dogs. The one on the far side looks like one of the "Silver's" puppies. The mushers start in 3 min intervals.

And here is team Wild and Free in action at the bridge where the convergence of the two rivers are just north of Whitehorse. 2 seconds after this I pocketed the cam and gave Brent a high-five and a dorky "you're awesome man." 


I have a bunch more photos and some vids but who knows if I will ever get around to posting them. I still have the photos I took of Marcelle and the Russian at the finish line last year. The race goes back and forth between Whitehorse and Fairbanks every year. Oh man this is pretty much the coolest sport ever. So much adventure and history and excitement. So many dogs! And it is my birthday today so oh my dog it was a good one! I hope they all stay safe on the trail, it can get sloppy out there climbing a bunch of mountains and crossing icy rivers and 

woody the creeper

Getting ready to sit down to breakfast the other day when i happened to glance out the window and meet the unblinking gaze of the neighbor's dog. Wtf Woody? It freaked me out a bit. He just sat their staring at me. So I tried to call him over to me, and he wouldn't come. Then I sent Welli out to rouse him from his trance and Welli ran up to him with his tail wagging and kinda slowed down when he got closer and was like "dude, what is your deal." I could tell he was weirded out too. Eventually he trotted off to his cabin but man. Weirdest dog I've ever met. And I've met some weird dogs:

Atticus
Abbie
Lexie
Trixie
Wally
Lucy
Duc
Ranger
Talouse
Shilo

I could go on. Funny thing is most of those dogs are treeplanting dogs. 

Sugar Sasquatch

Ever since coming in from the wild the Sasquanch has been obsessed with clothes. I understand the allure to a certain extent... going so long without clothing must make him want to ensure it never happens again. But really, does one person need so much clothing? 

The only plus side to this (other than being on the arm of a snappy dresser) is he sometimes he sets me loose in a store with a couple hundred dollars to make himself feel better about splurging.

I was raised by a mom who was frugal to extremes. And a DUTCH step-dad. (Enough said?) Let's just say my wardrobe growing up was hand-me-downs, Biway, Good Will, and Wolco. 

Nothing wrong with this. There are certain things I will never spend a lot of money on. I still go to Walmart for underwear (Fruit of the Loom makes a nice boy short style I like). I will always buy cheap pjs (the last pair i purchased from Mark's was on clearout and cost me $10). 

Actually, if Sasquanch didn't have a say, I would probably still be shopping mainly at Value Village, but who is going to argue with someone who is encouraging you to spend money on your wardrobe? 

So yesterday I tried on an amazing cardigan/wrap sweater at a local shop. It had an orange sale sticker which I glanced at ever so briefly as I swooped the fine wool garment over my shoulders. I thought it said $24 and it didn't really matter because once I had it on I knew is was going home with me. It is a reversible  elegant purple/grey thigh duster of a silky, fine knit. Beautiful and flattering over jeans or tights, or anything really. 

Upon closer inspection I discovered it was knit of baby alpaca wool. And. AND! It wasn't $24 dollars. It was $240. ON SALE. 

And so I bought it. Partly out of spite. Partly as an experiment to see if it would irk Sasquanch at all. And mostly because I couldn't imagine not owning it.

Upon returning home he was PROUD of me! "Great purchase," he said. And now I am wondering how many garments I have enabled him to buy guiltlessly and for how long with this one splurge.

i bet you'll think it's about you

And it is.

I've been writing fiction lately. Doing what I like with people and places and events of my past. Twisting settings and conflicts and loves every which way. Reliving and creating.  

For example. In the summer of 2009 a man I was involved with came close to throwing hot tea at me. Stopped and glared and tried to scare me with the fact, he could have. I wasn't scared. I was too busy revelling in the freedom of no longer lying to myself. I was leaving him and he was angry, had the arrogance to believe he could tame and keep me forever. 

In fiction the tea gets thrown. Thank you for the dress rehearsal Mr. Gilbert Blythe, jilted lover, cheesy dresser who talks like a cowboy but is an east coaster. "I reckon" haha oh I am mean. For some reason it still irritates me. How someone is convinced their love alone is enough to sustain a relationship, when the other person involved has clearly stated their indifference. 

And this irritation stems also from my own sense of guilt for my own stake in this convincing. Had I not weaved myself into his family, learned his grandmother's recipe for cinnamon buns and sat and charmed his parents at so many weekly family dinners, and oh god spent an entire, all expenses paid week, on a yacht in the Bahamas with them. 

Out of so much awkwardness. Out of guilt. Out of uncomfortable pangs of nostalgia for someone I tried to love once and the failure of fate to fetter me to this simple capsule of an island and this tidy island family and this island nice guy who was so nice and knew he was so nice he couldn't compute my desire to leave. Out of all this emerges words on a page, chiseled and sculpted as I choose. 

I used him. Sure he let me. But I used him. And I am not finished.

i still read ya know

A few books I've read lately:
The Antagonist - Love
Friends like us - Like


A few books I half read (am still planning on finishing) lately:
The Joy Luck Club - Love
Taft - Love

A few books I want to read soon:
The Diviners - an old Love
168 Hours: You have more time than you think - I love self help books and am into trying to curb my time wasteages.