A Very Strange Summer

This summer, Dad and Mom came up for a long visit, so Dad could do some work while he was here.  They arrived in early May, and were initially expecting to stay in a house, but plans changed and they stayed with us.  Towards the end of June, they had an opportunity to housesit for parents of friends of ours, and then Dad flew Mom home so she could spend the rest of the summer in her own house.  Dad came back in early July.

A Beautiful Autumn Day on the Water

It really was, by all accounts, a beautiful autumn day today.

We took the boat out. 

The wind was a tad strong, so we had big waves, but it was quite nice for short trip on an autumn day.

No, this isn't one of my posts that I didn't get around to until months later.

We did have a lovely autumn day today, only today is July 14th.

Give me my summer back, Yellowknife! 

NOW!  I've earned beach weather, damn it!

Ten Years Ago, Today

Ten years ago, June 16th fell on a Monday.

On Tuesday, my good friend Jody was going to have her wisdom teeth pulled out, and I was her chaperone.  She needed one, trust me.

June 2003 marked the end of my first year of teaching.  That year, I taught third grade 60% of the time, meaning that I only taught Wednesday through Friday, so helping Jody out as she lost her wisdom was easy to fit in.  We were both done report cards and looking at a sunny summer ahead of us.

I lived waaay out in Shad Bay, so I was planning to sleep over at Jody's apartment on Hollis Street Monday night so I would be able to get her to the hospital on time and not have to worry about inbound Halifax traffic.

Of course, as Monday evening approached, Jody wanted to go out to celebrate her last night being wise.  You know, just "in case" something happened and we couldn't go out until the weekend.

Catching Up: March, Part 1

In so, so, so many ways, this has been the longest winter I've ever gone through.

First of all, it really was the longest winter.  Winter has a cold, unfair, and icy grip on Spring.  Miss A tells me that Winter is so stuck to Spring, that Spring just can't come this year.  For the record, Winter also hijacked Autumn, which is typically my favourite season (typically = southern, southern = the Maritimes).  Winter began at the end of September, and was firmly in place by the first week in October.

We are finally in the "sometimes it's above 0 degrees Celsius, but that's not a promise" phase, but usually the lows over night drop well below 0, sometimes as far as -20 or more if you factor in the wind. 

Tonight, for example:  April 28th, the low is -17 with a freaking -27 windchill.  I have nasty words in my head for you, Yellowknife.  Tomorrow's high is -17 with a -13 windchill.  It's almost May!  We want to pack up the parkas and snowsuits, people.

I will seriously karate chop someone in the head if they complain about the heat this summer.  Suck it up and get some ice cream.

So, with all of this wintering, you'd think that I would have loads of time to blog.  But, winter has won, and I don't have much fight left in me, or energy for almost anything above and beyond "getting through the day."  I think that Eli and I do a pretty good job on making the girls a priority, but I've done a crummy job lately of making me a priority (and the blog falls under "me").  In short, I think my brain has some permafrost, and is a little sluggish and stupid, just like the ptarmigan.

And, so, I bring you a jam-packed post about our March adventures, in three parts.

Part 1:  Birthdays

Daddy's birthday was the first day in March, and he had to work late due to some flights that got changed at the last minute.  On a Friday. 

Best of 2012

Happy 2013!

This is 2012 in review with my most popular blog posts from 2012.

Out of the 111 posts I wrote in 2012, these were the most popular...

Henoch-Schönlein Purpura - Are You Freakin' Kidding Me? (Also known as my 200th post)

This is a post about HSP.  If you are reading this sometime in the future, and you have stumbled upon this blog, please know that I am not a health care professional, but I am a mom documenting our family's history.  So please read on, but know that this is our story, and should not be used to diagnose or treat HSP.  If you think you or your child has HSP, trust your gut and go to the doctor.

It all began a few days before Christmas. 

Miss A had a high fever one night (Dec. 23), and we decided that she should not come to the Nativity practice. 

On Christmas Eve (Dec. 24), I called and arranged to have Miss A seen by the doctor at the clinic in town. 

Now, THAT'S cold!

It's been about 10 to 12 degrees BELOW normal temperatures for this time of year for weeks now, and you can imagine my excitement over breaking so many cold temperature records.

Apparently, last winter WAS abnormally "warm."

So, the lakes are frozen, the snow behaves oddly in the cold temperature: 

snow below -20 behaves like cold sand, it squeaks, and it doesn't get removed from the roads, so snow tires really are a necessity.

On Saturday, it was cold, and both Eli and his buddy, Barry, were off and eager to go on a long snowmobile ride... the first of the season.  The girls and I went shopping.

They left around 10:00 am and planned to be back around 3:00 pm, not-so-coincidentally coinciding with the only daylight hours we have right now.

 

Eli was back home by 3:00 pm, and had a warm-up shower before I got back from shopping.

Once I brought my shopping bags inside, Eli casually said,

"So, Barry fell through the ice today."

Japanese Celebrity

I am fully aware that I have been slacking off of the blog postings lately.

I have a few explanations:

1. Report Cards (my teacher friends will know that this is the only explanation necessary to inspire a full whirlwind of procrastination techniques)

2. Three-Way Conferences with parents and students

3. Advent activities leading up to Christmas

4. Weird stuff

This week, it is my goal to update you on the weird stuff because, let's face it, that's why you love me.

So, today, I will tell you about my day as a Japanese reality TV star.

Konnichiwa!

On Monday, a Japanese film crew arrived to follow around me and my class.  I knew about the filming in advance, as a child in my class is a member of a family that agreed to the filming.

The Japanese show that the crew was videoing for is called... and, truly, I can't make this stuff up...

Poor Little Twofour

When we came home from school last night, Twofour was having a very long sleep.

Poor Little Twofour.

Twofour certainly wasn't our longest-living bunny, but he is the bunny the girls had the strongest relationship with. 

I have written about all of my pet bunnies before.

Bloggeversary

Today is my blog's bloggeversary.

Happy bloggeversary, by SHANNON LEE.

I began this blog on June 12, 2011, on the road to Yellowknife. 

You can read all about the monumental cross-Canada drive that started it all by clicking on the Yellowknife or Bust tab on the top of the blog anytime.

I have posted all the links to the trip in chronological order there.

So, what has a year done?  Well...

1. I have bangs. 

2. We discovered that working two full-time jobs with two full-time school girlies requires balancing.  AND, we did it!

3. Autumn and Spring do not exist in the North.  In fact, you might remember last summer about me blogging about Autumn in August (I was wearing a toque on August 20th last year on an evening walk).

4. The Northern sky is huge, spectacular, and unlike any other perspective in Canada.  I would say that it is my favourite thing about the landscape and climate up here.

5. The girls are happy where their little family is.

6. It's freakin' cold up here, and there is snow from September to May. 

7. Spring is sloooow coming.  The picture above is the first day of spring.

8. Northern means EXTREME... extreme darkness, extreme daylight, extreme coldness, extreme sun.

9. The Aurora Borealis (Northern Lights) are worth living here for.  Period.

10. Eli loves his boat.  And, boats in general.



A few stats on the year... 

10421+ page views in one year (excluding my computers, for checking on formatting and the like)... wowsers.

The highest readership was at the beginning, peaking on our arrival in Yellowknife the end of July 2011, and again in December 2011 and March 2012.

Most of you read more when I was posting links on Facebook.  I'm not on there now, so I wonder if that is very inconvenient for you?

I've made 160 posts, including this one, in a year.

I've had web traffic from all over Canada, the United States, Belgium, Russia, the United Kingdom, Germany, Australia, Indonesia, Argentina and Mexico.

Thank you for reading!!

Our Sunday Morning

This is my child.

I know this because I was there when she was born, and she is cute, and looks like me, and she has my fashion sense.

Who says the 80's are over?

We say, "80's rock!" 

This is my child.

She loves 'O's and milk more than any other food on earth, except for maybe fishy crackers.

And, not only would she love to have a dog one day, but really, she would like to be a cute puppy dog who can talk.

We compromise, and she wears this hat I made her (she has a tail, too), in the winter and summer. 

On Sunday morning, my Puppy Dog wanted me to trace her with chalk, so I did.

It was very important to get her ears in the tracing, and in this picture, she is asking me to add whiskers when I draw the face. 

Then, we each drew a butterfly.

She asked me to colour hers, and said that she would colour mine.

But, she got distracted. 

At first she was distracted as she watched me choose colours, but then she was distracted by Daddysaurus who came over to get in on the chalk drawing. 

You see, Daddy drew Miss G a boat.

I can tell you are shocked.

You are an obvious reader. 

Then, he drew guns on either side of the boat for my child. 

Miss G is aiming at a target on one side, Miss A on the other. 

See the orange guy on the top of the boat?  That's Daddy.

Daddy is the captain of the boat.

In fact, Miss G believes this to be a rule for life.

When she went on the boat with her Daddy and her Papa last weekend, she would not listen to Papa at all, and simply said, "Papa, you are not the boss.  DADDY IS THE CAPTAIN."

And, she would follow his every request with, "Yes, sir!"

Papa traced Miss A, and Miss A closely supervised him as he consulted her for colour selection and application. 

It was a very hot morning, so the girls asked to fill up their little pool. 

The hose is the best part, you know.

Truth: Crazy Stories from the Week I Couldn't Make Up If I Tried

As you know, my school is a Catholic school, and so, teachers are asked to help in the planning of liturgies and masses throughout the academic year.

The girls and I like participating. 

 For example, once the girls got to do collection (walk around with the handled baskets to collect donations),

and another time in December, they got to light the Advent candles on the Advent wreath

(it was the second Sunday of Advent, so they each lit one).

I signed up long ago to help with our school mass in March, not really knowing what the March mass was.

Before March Break, we realized that we were planning for Palm Sunday.  Yikes!

Palm Sunday is an involved mass.

Students prepared the readings, the choirs prepared the spiritual music, and I helped to coordinate along with other teachers.

On Palm Sunday, we also read the Passion. 

Normally, the priest takes full responsibility with the Gospel, but on Palm Sunday, readers help to read the Passion because it has a lot of dialogue. 

I asked two other teachers to help me out, and I took on the role of the narrator.

Originally, the girls and Eli were going to help me carry the offertory gifts before communion, too, but Eli caught my cold (only worse, because... well, because it was him sick, now). 

Gramma came to the house to watch the girls because I didn't want to have to do the Gospel reading and leave the girls unattended in the pew.

Oh.  Didn't I mention?  The Passion was twelve pages long!

So, quickly after mass began, Gospel time approached, and I took my spot in front of the congregation at the lectern.

I read.

The narrator reads a lot.

Sometimes entire pages at once.

Then, somewhere about nine or ten pages into the Passion, my voice faltered.

Remember, I was getting over a cold.

Shake it off, I told myself.

Tick tock.  Tick tock.

So, I swallowed, and kept reading.

Tick tock.  Tick tock.

My voice cracked.

Tick tock.  Tick tock.

I coughed.

Tick tock.  Tick tock.

I hacked.

Tick tock.  Tick tock.

I coughed.

One of the servers discretely rushed over with a small glass of water.

I gratefully gulped it down, and collected myself.

Tick tock.  Tick tock.

I began to read, but I croaked.

Tick tock.  Tick tock.

A tear began to run down my face.

Tick tock.  Tick tock.

I could barely breathe.

Tick tock.  Tick tock.

I looked at the server with a look of desperation.

Water?

Tick tock.  Tick tock.

She rushed over and whispered, "I would read for you, but I forgot my glasses."

Tick tock.  Tick tock.

I looked out into the sea of faces watching me as I struggled to breathe and read. 

Tick tock.  Tick tock.

Surely, I would get help from a colleague.

Tick tock.  Tick tock.

They were all glued in their seats.

Tick tock.  Tick tock.

What is the protocol? 

Can they just jump up and take over? 

Would I be more embarrassed?

Tick tock.  Tick tock.

I smiled, and croaked out the next four lines.

Tick tock.  Tick tock.

Then, I saw movement in the congregation.

It was a Palm Sunday miracle!

One of the youth ministers rushed over and offered to take over.

I nodded.

I quietly got down, calmly walked to the back of the church, and hacked up a lung in the bathroom.

Afterwards, EVERYONE came up to me with an excuse why they didn't come to rescue me, and I have to say, I wasn't one bit offended.

It was funny, really. 

It's not like I embarrass easily, or have a fear of public speaking.

But, it was the longest two minutes I've ever experienced in church.

Tick tock.  Tick tock.

It felt like at least ten minutes before I was rescued.

- - - - - - -

Yesterday, we had a lovely spring day in Yellowknife. 

The sun was shining, and I think the temperature went above zero degrees.

I decided to take my students outside for a class, because we've been cooped up inside so often this winter.

The middle school kids were happy and playful.

Some of them organized a snow soccer game.

Some other tried to swing on the swings that seem really really low with the high accumulation of snow.

Some others decided to play Grounders on the play structure.

And, they asked me to play.

"Miss, will you play Grounders with us?  Please?"

Because they were expecting me to say no, I, of course, agreed.

I almost always join in with their games.

They explained the rules: 

Grounders is like tag, only the person who is It can only have their eyes open if they are standing and walking on the ground. 

If they decide to come on the play structure they have to close their eyes.

I commented that it sounded perfectly safe.

They laughed.

One boy said, "That's sarcasm."

I nodded.

Also, if the person who is It yells out "Grounders" while on the play structure (and his or her eyes are closed), and another player is, in fact, on the ground, then that person is "Out" and becomes "It."

As the teacher, I couldn't lose face.

I ran like a crazy person to keep away from which ever kid was It.

Then, I got in a compromising position.

The person who was It was closing in on me, so I quietly slid down the twisty slide, and jumped over to the wooden ladder before I heard, "Grounders!"

I was safe.

So, I scurried over to the other side of the equipment to climb back up.

Except, instead of scurrying, I ran flat out into the bottom of the wooden play structure, hitting the top of my head.

Crack!

(Remember, the snow is high, so it seems like the equipment is low.)

Disoriented and in pain, but hearing the students busting a gut, I collect myself and turn to hurry out.

Crack!

I ran into a hanging tire bridge nose first!

The kids were losing it, laughing.

Wow.  Coolest teacher ever.

I got tagged, just then.

Another teacher outside ran over, and said, "Are you OK?"

She had heard both cracks from a distance away.

I think so.

The kids also came over to check on me.

I was hurt, but I don't blame them for laughing.

It's funny when your teacher walks into two things within 10 seconds with HER EYES OPEN.

So, I got a small cut and bruise at the bridge of my nose where my glasses sit.

By the time I got home from school and a late meeting, Eli took one look at me and said, "Oh my God!  What did you do?!"

I tried to play it cool, "Wha??"

"Uh, Shannon, you look like a toucan."

I did. 

I totally looked like a toucan. 

My nose was swollen out, and looked like there was a ledge on it.

"I do not!!"

"Yes, you do.  What did you do to your nose?"

So, I had to tell my story to Eli. 

He said, "Well that's what you get for playing a game with your eyes shut."

"My eyes were open."

"Oh.  Well, you're not too bright, then."

Perhaps. 

But, now the students think I'm the cool teacher who almost knocked herself out to play Grounders with them.

Special Delivery

Daddy likes mail ordering.

Well, actually, Mommy likes mail ordering.

Daddy LOVES mail ordering.

It's been one of his main pass times since we've moved here... you know, after his boat, the snowmobile, fishing, hunting, shooting, and tinkering.

So, we've a plethora of cardboard boxes at our disposal.

Currently, the girls have cardboard surfboards.

One of them is Merliah Summers (Miss G) and the other is Kylie Morgan (Miss A).

Barbie's a Mermaid Tail 2, anyone?

Yes, they've been spending their days in their swimsuits surfing around the house and asking me when spring is coming...

Yeah, not for a while, my sweets. 

We live in Yellowknife, now.

So, there are big boxes, which are for transporting big toys or building campsites, with their new sleeping bags, and their are little boxes, so they can make parcels and play post with "special deliveries."

The girls also have nearly unlimited access to masking tape, which is used to make tight ropes for their little figurines, and spiderwebs.

Elaborate campsites have been popping up all over the place.

This one is for... 

Twofour. 

They lured him in there with the carrot, and thrilled them by playing in it for a few hours.

- - -

Yesterday, Papa could overhear the girls working together.

"Teamwork!"

Miss G:  Papa can you help me with the tape?

Papa:  What are you doing with the tape?

Miss G:  We are making a present for Daddy.

Papa:  Oh, That's nice.

Papa started to find the end of the tape, and Miss G was pulling on the tape, while Miss A was holding the box closed.

Papa:  So, what is Daddy's present?

Miss A:  Twofour.

Papa:  NO!  You can't put Twofour in a box!!

The girls' good intentions went out the window.

Papa rescued Twofour.

Twofour, smartly, ran away immediately upon his rescue.

I got him from beside Wilhelmina, our family washing machine, and he was a little ruffled, but fine.

I put him in his secure cage, and the girls came over to apologize to him.

We learned that Miss A lifted into the overly small box. 

She is very honest and was very proud, but we explained that she just can't do that!

To the girls' credit, the did put a carrot in the box for Twofour, only the carrot was by his tail, and the box was too small for him to turn in.

New rule in our home:  No special delivery buns.

I'm not so sure that he will be so trusting the next time they want to build him a bunny campsite, or go near him with a box of any kind.

When Your Age Matches the Temperature

Eli celebrated his 38th full trip around the sun on Thursday, March 1st.

It was -38 degrees Celsius with the windchill that morning.

Coincidence?

I think NOT.

OK, it is.  But read on, because this post gets better.

He had to wait one extra day this year, because 2012 is a leap year.

It was not a leap year when he was born, so he wasn't almost a leap baby.

He was kinda cute, though.

That's Eli on the back of the tricycle, with Emerson pedalling. 

He's an outdoor boy at heart. 

Gramma came over to help us celebrate. 

Having Gramma in person for birthdays is a total perk to living in Yellowknife.

The cake is on fire! 

Make a wish.

(Wanna bet it had to do with fishing?)

Now, the interesting story related to Eli's birthday this year actually has nothing to do with candles or his cake, but it does have to do with the meal that Eli wanted to eat for his birthday supper.

Read on, my friends...

Grampum's coworker got Eli this Arctic Char when he and John (Grampum) were up North in Tuktoyaktuk on business.

I'm told that it's a beautiful fish.

To me it is a fish in my sink.

My sink.

And, Eli took a picture of it with his BlackBerry.

Clearly, this was not me. 

So, Eli did whatever it is you do to fish to prepare it to be barbecued.

Eli's a devoted barbecuer and barbecues all winter, even in this Arctic winter. 

Here's the cooked fish.

(Photo credit to Eli.  Duh.)

I will admit that it was yummy.

Eli tried very hard to give me a piece of fish with no bone in it.

Everyone at the table will be served a piece with no bone.

Mine?  It always has bone.

Doesn't it look juicy?

Well, it was.

I have proof.

I was putting the girls to bed when I saw Eli carrying the fish in on MY cookie sheet from the barbecue.

I didn't have my glasses on.

I heard Eli say, in a panic, to my Dad, "Quick.  Hurry!  Shannon's gonna kill me."

Dad was mocking and ho-ho-ho-ing at Eli to make his shame sink in.

I thought that he spilled fish juice all over the floor.

But no...

Eli did manage to douse the floor with fish juice.

And, Gramma's jacket.

Gramma's jacket was efficiently drenched in water, and she reports that it's quite fine.

But, in truth, what got the brunt of the fish juice was...

MY PARKA.

Eli's initial sentiments were close to on the mark:

I was about to throw him in a frozen lake.

I ran the affected area under water, and we set it up in the garage under the big heater fan to dry over night.

Friday morning, Eli gave it a swift sniff, and said that it was "not so bad."

I wore it to school.

All day in the staff room there were comments about a hard-to-pin-point fishy smell.

I avoided eye contact.

I took my middle school kids outside to skate on the beautiful rink on the school property.

"Miss, do you smell fish?"

"Yup.  That's me."

"It IS??"

Telling them the story helped us to bond. 

That night, we went with my Mom and Dad on a dog sled run to see the Northern Lights.

The dogs liked me. 

A lot.

"Eau d'Arctic Char.  It's the arctic aroma that just won't quit."

On Saturday morning, Eli went ice fishing.

He totally used his birthday as an excuse to go out for the day.

He also totally used his birthday as a reason for the purchase of the boat, the rifle, the snowmobile... 

Eli's birthday lasts all year long.

I digress.

He was a good blogger's husband and took pictures for me.

This is the ice fishing tent. 

Here is a buddy. 

Here is some evidence that they were "roughing it" like real men. 

More of said evidence. 

Eli was thoroughly amazed at the preparedness of his cohortians. 

Eli was fishing with some people not living in Yellowknife.

Eli caught a fish.

They did not.

So, they took pictures of themselves with Eli's Northern Pike (32 inches-ish). 

Meanwhile, I took a trip to the drycleaners'.

As part of Eli's birthday gift, he is paying for it to be dry cleaned.

Fifty-five buck-a-roos.

Thanks, Eli.

Oh, and any doubt that I love Eli should be completely eradicated based on this story.

If I can forgive him for pouring fish juice on my beloved parka, I love him.