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Showing posts from December, 2017

Homer's Television Christmas Special

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The film crew for Homer’s Christmas Extravaganza arrived by helicopter in a cloud of whirling blown snow just before the holiday. Our dog wasn’t sure about this flying snowmachine at first and was most perturbed. 


Until he saw the cameras. “Great. I knew they’d be back!” he thought. Homer very much enjoyed his starring role in a Channel 4 documentary (see Escape to the Wild and Escape to the Wild Woolwich Style) and has been waiting for his second season.

As soon as the cameras were rolling, he surprised the crew with an ingenious storyline he’d invented. “So how about we pretend we have a threatening intruder and I have to bark real fierce at him? Yeah!”

At least that what was going on in Homer’s mind, we think. For us humans, what happened was a small crew who might be filming in the area wanted some test shots of local landscapes. The filming is not primarily about us, nor crushingly for Homer, our photogenic and star-struck husky.
The director asked if they could film us walking …

Bright New World

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We made it to town! 10 hours of travel in the dark, 160 miles/ 255 km down the Yukon and over the mountains, 5 glaciers and 2 lakes of overflow to traverse, rolled the new machine twice, bust the side windshield but we had to get to the Post Office and we made it!
If only I’d remembered the fucking PO Box key. 

"What do you mean, it's not there?" said Neil, with a face like an angry emoticon.
By lucky, lucky chance, I had brought the letter from Canada Post assigning us our PO box in case we needed it at the bank. We have no utilities here so it is one of the few things I have with proof of our address.
I said “I’m sure this will be fine,” hoping very much that it would be. 


Actually, they did kindly give us our mail, even though they shouldn’t really, and thereby perhaps saved our marriage.

Temps have got so warm here (we’ve been above freezing twice) we thought we’d take advantage and try to make it town. And we needed to run in our brand new Skidoo. We’ve been fighti…

Wolves at the door

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You get used to the wilderness. It begins to feel familiar, even a bit suburban and then wolves attack a caribou at the edge of your yard and you remember just how wild it is. We took the snowmachine for a swim in the Yukon that same day, so have been thoroughly shaken out of our complacency.

I nipped out for a pee in the evening and heard a commotion. When the temperature drops to 30 below, sounds distort. They bounce off the frozen surfaces and become brittle and hollow. It was pitch black. Neil came out and we both heard a volley of crashes and cracks very, very close. We are ever so brave and so ran inside in a panic, grabbed the guns and went up to our raised back porch, where we would be safe from the intruder.

Something was thrashing the willows right at the edge of the yard. It was grunting and snorting. The creature was big, very big- so most likely a moose, but why so much noise? Males will thrash the brush with their antlers in rutting season, but that was finished. I know…