Yukon bush life

(Lou, Yukon) Don’t wash squirrels. I learned that this week. They don’t come out well. The amber, feather-light tail never quite recovers and the fur has the look of rat skin. That’s sewer rat, not muskrat. Washed, tanned, oiled and drying Au naturel We’ve been trying to ignore our squirrel problem at the old cabin all winter. After fixing the roof and stuffing it with some old insulation this autumn, we are now using it as a storeroom and, perhaps optimistically, guest cabin. And here's the master bedroom... Our plan is to keep the insulation in the roof to prevent heat escaping, the squirrels' plan is to take it down to the cold cellar to make nests and use the space above the floor as a toilet. The original roof was insulated with a tonne of mud which we had to remove before we could rebuild it  My understanding was that squirrels fiercely defend their territories so we could only have one, or possibly a pair of them, using the cabin. No. We got ...

(Lou, Yukon, Winter Solstice) It’s dark now. We haven’t seen the sun for months but apparently it rises somewhere every day, just as usual. Sunrise is around 11.20am and sunset at 3.15pm (making a guess from data in towns to the south and north of us). Our world is softly lit. There is no shadow except that of the moon when she’s around. Wonderful for portrait photos if you are a middle aged lady with the occasional wrinkle, which of course I’m not. Not a wrinkle or a grey hair in sight We get up early, and by the time grey begins to seep into the sky we are often ready for a snooze, but we grab each hour of daylight with mitted hands. It must be utilised and, most importantly, witnessed. Then we are in bed very early. 10pm, still bang at it on the Kindles, is very rock’n’roll for us. Darkness is a luxury. You don’t have it in the city. Electric light blasts you through winter at the same pace as summer. A kerosene lantern glows in each corner of our cabin. Th...