Saturday

This morning I went for a walk with the temp nurse along the atv tracks up by the dump. To do it, we had to scale a high-ish hill, from the top of which we could see out across the water to Digges Island. The tundra looked as if someone had sprinkled it with icing sugar, and the sea was a cool shade of navy blue. It is much more beautiful up here in the winter. The landscape is less hostile and its easier to believe that I am in the north.
We found ptarmigan tracks, and fortunately the ocean is free of ice so polar bears are not a threat at this time. A pack of barely domesticated dogs followed us, and for once I did not mind their smelliness, as they are the early warning system for wolves. I could really be persuaded to adopt a pup from the next litter. I think the life of a dog up here is bleak and short, and I would love to bring one back down south with me to live as my pampered 'companion animal'; however, a huge sled dog in a 5 1/2 apartment in urban Montreal would not be fair either. Plus I am sure my cat would not be in agreement with the whole deal.
I spent an exciting evening in front of the television, knitting and watching the Canadians get trounced. Before going to bed I peeked through the blinds of my living room window and was mesmorised by the sheets of blowing snow being whipped past by the wind. The shed 20 feet away was pretty well obscured. I thought, 'Ya gotta be freakin'kidding me!' and began mentally pleading with any potential crisis clients in the town to not take actions that would require my involvement until morning. Fortunately the on-call walkie talkie that I schlepp around has been quiet so far, but it would be just my luck that it would ring in the middle of a blizzard.