Posted on January 7, 2021 under Thursday Tidbits with no comments yet

Wakem Bay at sunset – My first drawing . Be kind!

 

“Fools rush in, where wise men never go.”

I’m sure that on Monday, my first post of the New Year, you were breathlessly awaiting Len’s New Year’s Resolutions. I’m sorry to have disappointed you when there was nary a mention of such trivial matters in my 2300 -word post. Truth be told, I’m not a particularly big fan of making idle promises in January or any other month of the year for that matter. Yes. It’s a good time to hit the reset button and reflect on the past and the future. We all have hopes and dreams. I think we are unified in one thing in 2021 – the end of the pandemic.

Today’s post is about hope and despair… and possibly hopelessness. You see, I have decided in my 70^th year on this planet to take up art.

Somewhere Sister St. Roderick is rolling her eyes. You see, this patient sister of the Congregation of Notre Dame tried to teach me art at Morrison School. She would have had as much success if she had tried to teach me Mandarin or Sanskrit. Most of you know of the game Pictionary where you have to draw something based on a clue. Anytime I played, my artistic renditions drew gales of laughter. There are only so many ways of drawing a stick man.

So why in god’s name am I thinking of learning how to draw at this ripe age?

Why not.

As with so many things in my life, I stumble upon something and decide on the spot that I want to give it a go. It’s in my DNA. My mom was like this so she can either take credit or blame.

I posted a picture the other day on Facebook (“Len, you post a picture almost everyday.”). I went on a skidoo ride across Wakem Bay with some colleagues. We stopped at one point as the sun was setting. The scenery was jaw dropping and the atmosphere was very serene. I received many comments about the photo and wondered if I could ever draw this image. The next thing you know, I was messaging our art teacher, Zina who agreed to try to do the impossible – teach me how to draw.

The combination of Zina and St. Jude just might give me a fighting chance. My first effort is shown above.

Speaking of drawing, I continue to draw inspiration from my late brother, Tom. He was like mom in many ways. He was tenacious with boundless energy and enthusiasm. There is NOTHING that he wouldn’t try. In the last few years of his cancer shortened life, he decided that he wanted to learn to play piano. He took weekly lessons, and I had the pleasure of hearing him play a few pieces at his home in Victoria. As the cancer progressed, playing with both hands became impossible so he played with one.

I do believe that learning something new in our senior years is good for the mind, the heart, and the soul. I do not expect to become a good artist. As a matter of fact, even if there is an anti-aging pill, I don’t expect to be competent ever. But who cares? Exactly. No one! But that’s not the point of this. I believe that our brain needs to be constantly challenged. Of course, I can hear many of you chuckling as you know that my brain has been challenged for a very long time!

So, here is my New Year’s challenge. Try something new. You might find a new passion. It is either that or continue drawing stick men.

And now, for something completely different.

I am trying to control my outrage and nausea. Democracy is under threat from all sides. I won’t dare touch the situation south of the border. A great empire is in a free fall.

My wrath is squarely directed at some politicians in our country who have created another pandemic, one rooted in mistrust and cynicism. Sadly, this is not a new virus. Entitlement has been around for a long time. One former politician famously stated, “I am entitled to my entitlements.” The unmitigated gall of some politicians to flagrantly abuse their power by opting out of all the health guidelines imposed on us ordinary Joes by travelling abroad while those of us at home can’t properly bury our dead or celebrate the birth of a new grandchild… or visit our ailing and despairing family member in a nursing home. The hubris of these individuals is gob smacking. They only apologize when they get caught which is as sickening as their transgressions.

Thank god we have the media to ferret out these rats.

Sorry. But I just had to get this off my chest.

Have a great weekend.

Posted on December 31, 2020 under Thursday Tidbits with one comment

Outdoor winter games

 

“Will the circle be unbroken,

By and by, Lord by and by.”

I can answer that one.

No!

Truth be told, I had planned to mail this in, my last post of 2020. Do you know what “mailing it in” means? A refresher. I would be willing to bet, that with very few exceptions, we have all mailed it in at least once in our life. We can’t have our “A game” all the time. There are days in our working lives that we’ve shown up for work and done the absolute minimum to maintain our employment. We breathed in oxygen, we went through the motions of work but truly, our employer would have been better off if we had just stayed at home.

After 2 posts a week, every Monday and Thursday for the past 10 years (plus numerous tributes and other assorted detritus) -1179 posts in all, I was going to take New Year’s Eve off and just mail it in, wishing you a happy New Year, and nothing more.

That is until I received a message that there were Inuit games out on the lake on Tuesday. It’s about a 25- minute walk from my place to the first in a series of lakes eventually connecting to Ungava Bay. I walked through town and then jumped on the skidoo trail running beside the frozen brook that bisects the village. Off in the distance I could see a large crowd along with many skidoos, Hondas (all 4-wheelers up here are called Hondas), hamutiqs (sleds) and trucks.

It was a cold morning but not bitterly cold and there was no wind. It was an ideal day for outdoor games.

A game was in progress when I arrived. Many students came by to say hello and several of them offered hugs which I cheerfully accepted. I was literally thrust into the large circle that had formed to play the game. In the middle of the circle was a huge block of wood and a hand saw. The person running the game also occupied the inner circle – a moderator and referee of sorts. I did not know it at the time, but these games are taken quite seriously and there are significant cash prizes for the winners.

Several die (dice) were placed equidistant around the circle. The moderator would then choose a number between 1-6. All of the die would be rolled and continuously passed around the circle. Anyone who rolled the correct number on the dice would get to run to the middle and start sawing through the block of wood only to be replaced hastily by the next person who had rolled the correct number. The die  flew around the circle. Once it landed in your hands, you had a fraction of a second before passing it along to the next participant.

I am never a reluctant participant but on this day, I was content to be a spectator. Both my knee and my back were killing me and I was wearing my Michelin man outfit which made bending awkward and difficult. The first time the dice landed at my feet, it took me several seconds to actually get down to ground level to pick it up. I received a few stares bordering on glares. I wasn’t playing fast enough. I’m a quick study so I decided to get down on my knees like most of the other contestants. Truthfully, I should have been awarded a prize on the spot for this feat of dexterity. The next time you’re chatting with the Michelin man, ask him what it’s like to try and get down on his knees.

The further the saw bit into the block of wood, the more the excitement level rose. The die were literally flying around the circle and people with the right number were frantically running to the block of wood hoping to be the one to deliver the last saw cut entitling them to the winnings. I could see why there was so much of a buzz. The prize was $300.

Now, picking up a dice with seal skin gloves on is next to impossible. No, it is impossible so like everyone else, I removed mine. A chill went through my bony fingers. It was easy to discern that a winner would be crowned any second as the hand saw neared the bottom of the block of wood.

And wouldn’t ya know it. I rolled a 3 which was the golden number at that moment. “Run, Len, run”. I felt like Forrest Gump. Not really. It took me several seconds to get back into a standing position. In retrospect, I probably could have gotten there just as fast if I had just crawled.

There is a certain etiquette to the game that escaped me until I became an active participant. When you get to the wood, you’re supposed to say “My turn”. I didn’t realize this as several other people with winning numbers stampeded towards me. I grabbed the saw from the previous participant. I looked down and could see that one more pull on the saw would yield me $300. My joy was short lived as I was bowled over by at least two people and landed on my arse, much to the amusement of half the population of Kangiqsujuaq. I sheepishly waddled back to my spot in the circle.

A song ran through my head.

“The First Cut is the Deepest”

The last cut is the richest!

Wishing all of my long-suffering readers a Happy New Years.

P.S. I decided to take the airport road back home as the walking would be much easier. I was offered a ride on a ‘Honda’ by a woman and her daughter. Rarely do I accept a ride preferring to walk. After the failed rugby scrum at the wood block, I was only too happy to accept. I rode side saddle all the way down to the school holding on for dear life. The road through town is ice covered all the time. Salt would be useless up here. It’s probably my imagination but I find everyone drives very fast up here. My driver was no exception. I was well chilled and sore by the time I got home but I am so glad that I had experienced Inuit winter games.

P.P.S. The circle is no accident among indigenous people.

Posted on December 17, 2020 under Thursday Tidbits with 2 comments

A Christmas tradition – a 1000 piece puzzle

 

“It’s beginning to look a lot like Christmas”.

If one went strictly by the weather, then it has looked like Christmas for quite a while up north. We’ve had snow on the ground and chilly temperatures for a few months now so that’s not the indicator that Santa will be soon arriving. It’s not even the fact that outdoor Christmas decorations are springing up around the village or that the energy level at school is off the charts. Honestly, I haven’t heard any Christmas music other than what I have produced myself in my class.

So, tell us Len, what has put you in the Christmas spirit?

Last evening, I trotted out mom’s shortbread cookie recipe and I put together the outer border of a 1000- piece jigsaw puzzle. Now, if that doesn’t have Christmas written all over it, I don’t know what does.

While contemplating making the cookies earlier this week, I reached out to my colleagues to borrow a few Christmas cookie cutters. Someone mentioned that the local Northern store, one of our two grocery outlets, had some on sale. I found this quite surprising. I thought that these would be in high demand with Christmas fast approaching. My surprise was compounded when I discovered that a box of three cookie cutters was only 99 cents. I took three boxes, being the big spender that I am. When I got to the checkout, I was astonished to learn that the price on the box was not the sale price. The cookie cutters were 50% off so I got three boxes for $1.50. I’m quite certain that my euphoria will be short lived when I calculate the cost of the ingredients for the cookies.

The Northern store also houses the Canada Post outlet and while I was in the store, I was alerted by the postmaster that I had a parcel. It was from my children and grandchildren. I sent a message to them when I got home to thank them and placed the box on the floor of my apartment with a few other gifts. You’ll notice that I didn’t say that I placed them under my tree. Balsam firs are hard to come by and very expensive when you live above Canada’s tree line. Artificial trees can be purchased at the local stores or online but a trip around the world might be less costly.

A few minutes after arriving home, one of my daughters told me to immediately open the box. Sitting at the very top of the pile of contents was, you guessed it, cookie cutters galore. I now have enough cookie cutters to open my own retail operation in Kangiqsujuaq! I will carry two items in my store. The other will be postage stamps. After my plea for stamps a few months back rendered an avalanche, I now have more stamps than any Canada Post outlet in Canada! I might even franchise this idea. I’ll call it Stamps and Cutters.  Like most other franchises, it will be a cookie cutter operation. I hope this gets your stamp of approval. Yes. Len needs a vacation… badly, as you can tell.

I want to say a few words about our local medical clinic. Last year, I walked by it many times but luckily never had cause to enter its doors. In the past few months, it seems that I am a regular visitor. I needed to have my cholesterol checked and arranged an appointment. The facility is staffed almost entirely by nurses. Doctors fly in occasionally from the south. Because of Covid, the protocols are rigid. You enter by one door and exit at another. Every person who arrives has their temperature and blood pressure taken. My appointment was on time and I was able to have blood drawn on the spot. The sample was flown the next day to the region’s capital of Kuujjuuaq. It wasn’t that my blood was special. I just happened to luck out that that was the day that bloodwork was being sent out. I received my results in a timely fashion.

While I was at the clinic, I mentioned that my knee was bothering me. I was given some painkillers (there’s no pharmacy in the village) and the promise of a meeting with a doctor at some time in the future to discuss a cortisone shot. After multiple knee surgeries, ten years of marathon running and a few years of marathon walking, I think the old knee might require some new parts one of these days.

(Are you bored reading about my medical conditions? So am I).

A few weeks ago, I woke up and one of my eyes was bloodshot. No, I wasn’t arm wrestling a bottle of tequila the night before. I ended up making several trips to the clinic as things got worse before they got better. I must admit that my eye looked grotesque, but it was a source of great curiosity at school as I made monster sounds when kids stared at me.

Alas, my doctor’s appointment won’t happen until the new year. I received the call a few days ago. I wasn’t at all surprised. When you live in a remote fly-in community, there are no guarantees. The nurse expressed concern about my knee pain over the holidays and was able to get me some stronger medicine to tide me over.

I have nothing but praise for the men and women who staff our hospital. They are very competent and friendly. We are extremely fortunate to have them in the community.

You knew that I couldn’t write this post without making one last pitch for donations to the Christmas Dinner Fund. I am happy to report that we are getting closer to our goal of $3,000. I have to tell you one beautiful story. I received a donation on Tuesday from a complete stranger. Many of my readers will remember my late niece Audrey (Brosha) Hibbs who passed away a number of years ago. Unbeknownst to me, he has been reading my posts for several years. He mentioned in an e-mail that he had befriended Audrey when they were both going through a very difficult time in their lives. He wanted to make a donation to the Christmas Dinner Fund in her memory. I can tell you that when you receive a message like this, you don’t need a Christmas tree or presents to feel the warmth and sentiments of this season.

Have a great weekend.