A journalist observes life in the far north.
We spent the weekend in the mountains, and I had grand plans to shoot pictures and to write something thoughtful, but I neglected to open my laptop or remove my camera from its case. In fact, I wore the same clothes for two days, even sleeping in them. That’s how lazy I was. I layed around, reading the New Yorker and accepting visitors, primarily some of the children from next door who came to see Lucky. I have to watch them because they try to touch her eyes. They kept trying to convince me to let them take Lucky away with them. The picture to the right is from Thursday night last week, when Lucky and I joined Alec on a trek on Murphy Dome.
During the weekend, Alec went on a long snowmachine ride with a party of almost 20 people. It was brutally windy and they said they kept getting stuck in the snow, but I suspect they said that to make me feel better because I couldn’t go.
This morning on Murphy Dome I awoke to a blanket of fresh snow. Actually, it’s more like a fluffy down comforter than a blanket. Maybe eight or ten inches. I am driving the Nissan because I have been trading cars with the Bottle Washing Fairy, who drove the Subaru while we were gone. I may have to call her to come get me. I don’t know if I will be able to get out of here. I am planning to check out a yoga class where you are welcome to bring your baby.