Water Returns!

Thank you Bonnie for inquiring about the current water situation.  It might be weird to say but after a while it was a regular part of our weekly routine to haul water - usually a dozen blue jugs at a time.  It was a whole new adventure for me but for Rob it was shades of his bachelor days when he lived with two blue jugs a week and he had to drive 10 miles to get it.  We had large plastic garbage cans filled in the bathtub and in the corner of the kitchen.  A large pot of water was always on the wood stove for dishes.  In fact, this was such a good idea that we continue to do this for moisture in the cabin and to reduce water heating costs.  Bathing was done in traditional style in the lakeside sauna.  There's nothing like standing naked on a moonlit night on a frozen lake, smelling of essential oils, to observe millions of stars and possible northern lights.  For guests this is the highlight of their stay here.

As soon as spring returned at the end of April, Rob (A.K.A. Hernia Man who was soon to have surgery) was busy digging up a long trench, a foot deep, from the cabin to the lake.  That's about 100 feet.  The last stretch was the worst with the ground still frozen.   The month prior to this, he's bought all the necessary supplies, PVC pipes, heat trace... There was a man who was anxious for the return of spring and for things to be 'normal', but I remind him that especially around here normal is a setting on your washing machine.

Update - Organic Moments

This long delayed post is dedicated to Rose, one of my persistent supporters.  I though of her and this blog while eating rose petal ice cream a few weeks ago when visiting my favorite Mexican city, La Paz.  In the shadow of a polka dotted tree near the Vermillion Bay of Illusions, several cones of this were consumed in hopes of re-creating it at Crag Lake during the summer wild rose season.  At first lick, rose petal ice cream tastes like grand mothers bubble bath, a bit shocking but quickly the creamy deliciousness makes a clear presence.  The best part is the subtle sensation of the frozen petals that come back to their velvety life over the tongue.  We sampled corn ice cream too, it has a true Mexican flare. 

Catching up on the last year; during the four months of my new full time career of carving a hole in the ice and hauling water uphill to the cabin, I became very in tuned with the natural environment and the authentic contents of my heart while looking for a new life direction.  As a self confessed pack rat, I decided that during this time of being unemployed in the conventional sense was a good opportunity to examine my piles of what I consider to be art supplies for future creative projects.  Rob calls it junk.  While I would agree that a partial canoe, stacks of driftwood, beaver chewed sticks and rusty bed frames may indeed be useless to some less imaginative types, to me they are true treasures.  I'd like to take full credit for the idea to hide these under the guest cabin behind the garden shed that Rob built with his usual standard of beauty, craftsmanship and function.

The collection in question at the time was my postage stamps, literally thousands of them ranging from the dull everyday ones to the antiques and globally gathered.  Much like my collection of clothing labels (see earlier posts of clothing label quilts I've made), I saw stamps as tiny unique art pieces that tantalize my sense of travel and adventure.  How could people overlook these and simply throw them in the garbage without a second thought?  So I started to cover furniture with them; first a chair, then a cabinet, a bread board, an old metal file box, a mirror...  Visually speaking they are much like the label quilts and they represent a similar disappearing era.  People rarely write letters anymore and labels are now being stamped directly on fabric.

Now combine these two elements of no water and delving into a new juicy project and what is the outcome?  Another Organic Moment!

Laundry had to be hauled to the Carcross gas station once a week, since of course we could not do it here without water.  Instead of looking at this situation as a hassle, I took this opportunity to hang out at the post office in between loads to check out any new stamps and to enjoy the general vibe there.  What I found every week was one stressed out post master, who I'd describe as running around like her hair was on fire.  Finally and reluctantly, I said "You look like you could use some help around here."  And presto (almost) I got the job as acting post master for the tiny town of Carcross, population 450.  Truth is I really love this job and as a bonus, imagine the stamps I get to admire and acquire thanks to some understanding and generous patrons.

Spring has Sprung

Whitepass on the way to Skagway

     For me, spring starts on St. Paddy's Day, which marks the day I arrived in the Yukon, 1980.  I remember it well because green beer was served at the bar.  The Whitehorse airport at the time was a large cavernous hanger, with the only place heated being a small office in a corner.  Pigeons lived in the rafters high above the wide open space.  The luggage was delivered by tractor to a sheltered frozen ramp outside.  Winters seemed a lot longer and colder back then, and this day was no exception.  The first true Yukon character I saw was a fully bearded man wearing a long fur coat with coyote tails dangling all around the hem.  From under his massive hairy hood, I heard a raspy voice tell me "You should've been here yesterday, it was even colder."  I was undeterred and welcomed the new adventure ahead.

     On this 32nd anniversary Robertson and I drove over the White Pass to Skagway Alaska to visit some friends who are undertaking a massive house project.  I love the energy of dream houses under construction and to visualize with them.  We had the usual fish and chips at the Sweet Tooth Cafe, seated at the table by the window and watched almost no activity passing on the wooden sidewalks.  We picked seaweed on the beach to take back to the compost heap to give it some extra coastal vitamins.  Like tourists we stopped often to marvel and take photos.  It's still an amazing place to call home.
     Is it the human condition to reminisce of perfect days long after they have occurred?  I vow to be more attentive to the ingredients of idealic moments.  Take today for example, we snowshoed across the lake in the sunshine, and followed it up with a sauna.  I shoveled ice off the deck with only a towel loosely draped over me with steam wafting from my wet hair.  Scented a spoonful of water with drops of lemon grass and lavender oils before tossing it on the lava rocks to create steam.  The spoon is made of a burl from a diseased tree and the bottom is carved with "Maked it by hand" signed by "Skully".  Another true Yukon character who once had a spot on the Alaska Highway selling a variety of bowls and such.  I hold it up to Rob and tell him it's one of the few things I hung on to from my last marriage.
     The weekend ends with a chicken roasting in the oven, a glass of wine and a good book.

Water issues in February

     Apologies for my long absence.   We've been busy with water issues; rain and our water pipes exploding in early December.  This relatively modern cabin with expected amenities has reverted to being a rustic cabin again and we're ready for it.  The over sized pails in the kitchen and bathroom are hardly noticeable and we are ever more mindful of how much water we use.  Grateful too for the medieval themed outhouse.  It's rewarding for us to note that we currently live with 55 gallons of water a week.  That's with traditional bathing in the sauna and laundry in Carcross (which turns out to be an unexpected community bonus with random visits).  The fortunate thing for us is that we have a clean body of water right outside our front door.  It's just a matter of carving out a hole with my new auger through 3 feet of ice, filling the blue jugs and hauling them up the hill.  Imagine how buff we'll look by spring!  I am so grateful that one of us is home full time to handle the extra work.
     Plus there's been rain in February, in the Yukon.  I blame our busted pipes on this warm weather, so much extreme change is too harsh and erratic on this system.  Still, we rejoice in the spring-like weather and parade around the wood pile in light fleece jackets, even without toques sometimes.  Skiing on the lake, with the sun on our pale faces, has been fantastic.
     But then we encounter unusual icy patches on our paths and stairs and shovel heavy loads of slush.  The sidewalks in Whitehorse are mushy and brown.  Great for snowman building, not something we have a lot of training in usually.  It's the kind of winter misery I left behind in my Maritime youth.  Its a hard concept to explain, the difference between a wet and dry climate when it comes to the cold.  We are like Arizona with the smallest desert in the world in our neighbourhood.  What this means for us is crispy granulated fluffy snow, not the smiling rotund stacked type with carrot noses.
     Part of me wants this mild weather to continue until spring (May) when we can dig up a new trench for a slick new water system but I suffer some guilt too knowing there is a price to be paid.   It's just not normal, all over the world we can share stories of disturbing weather patterns.  Climate change is here.  We, the Skookum minority would relish a steady -15 to -20C weather to give us a sense of peace in the world.

Buddha's Hat & risotto recipe

View from the kitchen sink.

Dear Kindred Spirits,
     I'm not sure if you have a Buddha living at your house, but if he lives outside like ours, it might be time to get him geared up for winter.  First, find an acorn squash at the grocery store, or if you're really lucky, at the farmers market.  Look for one with a funky stem.  Cut the top of the squash so that the circumference is about 3 inches across.  It'll look like a flower looking down at it.  Now find a sunny windowsill and let this part dry for a few weeks.  You'll see over time, how it'll curl in on itself and form a bit of a 'hat'.  When it's almost dry, put it on Buddha's head for a form fit.  The final results will be very satisfying and make you laugh every time you look at it.  Maybe the local squirrels will discover it too, it won't interrupt the joy factor in the long run.
     Risotto Recipe; all measurements are approximate.  Peel the above mentioned acorn squash, take out seeds and boil or bake until done but firm.  You'll know it's ready when you mash it and it'll break down but still have lumps in it.  Lumps are yummy.  Add vegetable or chicken broth so that you have about 5 cups of liquid in all, simmering.  In a large cast iron cooking pot, fry an onion and 5-6 cloves of garlic.  When well cooked pour in about 1/2 cup of white wine.  Now pour in about 1.5 or 2 cups of Arborio rice (also known as sushi rice), these are fatter and rounder grains.  Stir the rice into the wine, onion and garlic mixture until the rice is translucent, about 2-3 minutes.  Then add about a 1/2 cup of your squash liquid, keep stirring, as it thickens, add more liquid when it gets goopy.  This is the basic combination; keep adding liquid until it's all gone and the rice is tender in a kind of sauce - a long process without a glass of wine.  It's good to have and use lots of liquid to make your risotto nice and gooey.  As the rice reaches it's right texture, add grated cheese.  We like to use Cheddar, blue cheese or Swiss or a combination. This usually makes a large pot so the second night you can make risotto cakes by making patties, dipping them in bread crumbs and frying.  Top with pesto/sour cream sauce.  Asparagus is a nice side dish.

Amsterdam Sandwich Shop

Formal entrance way

 

     Funny where ideas and inspirations come from and how long they steep and peculate before erupting into a new form.  In the spring of 2001, I visited friends in Holland who are close to my heart and sensibilities.  Karin and Anne-Marie guided me with great care and humour and would routinely say to shop keepers and relatives alike that I lived in a cabin in the Yukon bush, in a community of 24 people.  I was grateful for this ready explanation because I often felt out of sorts and discombobulated with the hectic rhythm of the place.  Especially in Amsterdam where I could only handle so much before heading south on a train back to Anne-Marie's sanctuary.
     On one visit to the capital city, they took me to a tiny sandwich shop near the red light district bordering Chinatown in Karin's neighbourhood.  This place was completely unnoticeable to me, only blending into the many doorways conveniently coexisting in an orderly barrage of chaos.  We ordered a type of grilled thing with coffee and we were each served on a different style of plate and cup.  This is what caught my attention and I learned that just about every item in this place was for sale; the dishes, the tables and chairs... The owners were collectors of interesting bits and kept an assortment of second hand treasures in a narrow mezzanine overhead, open to the curious and the interested.  I came home with a simple plate and idea.
     So in the spirit of that tiny hole-in-the-wall in that place far away whose name I never knew, I wanted to present the same concept here at the lake, with the Curiosity Shop.  It's full of things we collect in our travels in exotic locations like Guatemala, Africa, even Holland.  When we travel we also collect beads, paper and fabrics to then turn into other things here during the long winter months.  Plus the shop has stuff that I've unearthed, collected and loved that other people would call antiques and vintage, that are ready to move on to other homes to be loved and re-purposed.

Searching for our mentor Jim Geenan

Jim at his 50th birthday party, Las Playas, Ecuador, 1996.

Dear Jim,

It`s really too bad we`ve lost track of each other.  There`s so much to tell you, especially in the way you`ve inspired us.  I last heard you moved back to the states after all those years away – it must be strange to return.  I`d love to know of your adjustment process.

I think of you most often when we prepare for guests at our lakeside home, arranging flower pots, choosing the right linen table cloth, and accentuating our local quirkiness with beaver chewed sticks.  I think of your excitement and unregistered enthusiasm when we visited all those villages in the Philippines, how many was it…20 or 30…You were fresh from the conference where you met Robertson in Montreal called `International Institute Promoting Peace Through Tourism`.  You couldn`t wait to share the bounty of new knowledge.

You`d have us get up at 3am sometimes, at our little pensione in Manila, to take flights to mountain villages, or beach side ones and everything in between.  I remember a moonlit bushwhack without supplies other than clove cigarettes.  We got lost, no one around, no food, no water, no clear destination but I felt I could follow you and Robertson anywhere, unafraid.  In the end you did not disappoint us, we were proud to be part of your team.

You were a one man show and we were your entourage taking photos and writing inspirational stories focusing on the villages, projects and people along the way.  You were desperate to find creative ways to keep people in their homes and not migrate away like the millions before.  The first time I ever heard words like bio-diversity, eco-tourism and perma-culture was from you, cutting edge concepts in the late `90`s.  You explained it all with giddy patience, waving your arms around adding to the drama to your extra tall stature, as if to draw out the obvious magic of the place.  Saying things like `Will you look at this cashew tree and this pomegranate together, alongside this bamboo hut on stilts!  Wouldn`t a tourist love to come here and pick these with you, see how you prepare them and hear some stories of your life here…`

Jim, you were untiring with your wisdom and your love of people so different than us.  I just want you to know that though often times, you felt that your voice was not heard, that your ideas were maybe considered too radical, someone was paying attention and taking really good notes.