4 awhile

Awhile is all a year is, especially at its end. What a year it's been, too. Chance of a lifetime. One chance, and there'll be others. This blog has tried to capture just a very few highlights, to share with family and friends afar, wherever we are. And for our own memoir, of course.

This photo too was snapped just before leaving; taken at the side of the cabin that we called home, and where Damian spent good time managing to stay at the right end of an axe. The year is over and now it's all a memory that we'd never trade for anything. So glad we went for it. We must all go for it! Nothing ventured, nothing gained.

Love to all our loved ones and dear ones. Talk soon, Leah, Mairéad, Pauline, Damian

These happy, no bittersweet, photos were taken just before Damian and the girls boarded the plane to leave Fort Albany / Peetabeck, for good. (And Pauline to join us a few weeks later). Some friends and family stopped by to say bye: "Wacheay." Some are in this photo, some not. I look at them and think... yes, parting is such sweet sorrow.

What a blessing to have spent the past year with Pauline's family, and to reconnect with old friends, while making new ones too. We'll never forget.

Last week we went by Paulinish's cousin's place to make a trade: our fire extinguisher for her copy of Eckhart Tolle's "A New Earth." (The only things that are going back south with us must be either precious, or more expensive to buy down south than the costly price of shipping them there). Her family were in the middle of preparing to smoke lots of Canada geese that they recently hunted along James Bay, south towards Kinoshao (Pike) River. Our girls joined us and watched for a bit, but their friends were running around and soon they all disappeared, leaving the adults in the tipi.

This preparation of geese is called nemessteg, where the goose is mostly de-boned and the skin and meat are smoked over a low fire for the day, till they turn red. This is one of six or so traditional ways of cooking geese that I've seen, and my favourite to eat.

Pauline pitched in, remembering the techniques she's not used for years. Lots of fun and learning. I marvel at watching the preparation of wild meat when the knife is in the hands of someone experienced. They know where every bone, tendon and muscle is, and go through the steps quickly and accurately...like a reverse jigsaw. These are some of the important practices that help keep the cultural traditions going. I'll miss these times, till next time.

This shot was taken in early June, just before everything burst into life again. I'm posting it because, as I noted in my personal journal some time ago: "I think the online photo blog, and to a lesser extent, this journal, each indulge in some significant spin, carefully manufacturing an idyllic view of our northern adventure. The pics and blurbs to date definitely show our good side, featuring the rare highlights. That's deliberate, and yet somehow not terribly conscious." The other reason for this shot has to do with my years of occupation with water and wastewater issues and my new perspective on all that. How nature is THE source, giving and taking everything. Take waste... how for instance some shrubs daily receive cooking water or dish water, or how a hole in the earth can accept human excrement. And the limits (of a sedentary lifestyle).

This is a chance to show a bit of the daily grind, I guess. (But it's still a bit indulgent, eh? Let me think, what would not perpetuate the Farley Mowat ("Hardly Know-it") impersonation? Eating supper? Maybe, but even that would be on camping plates with a log cabin backdrop).

I think the novelty of being “up north” and living in a log cabin and all, has worn off. It has long been all quite normal now, chopping wood and carrying water... and the honey bucket, no longer so romantic. I still love chopping wood though, and would gladly do it for the rest of my life as a regular part of daily chores. There's a lot to learn there. And harvesting wood... that's a whole other kettle of fish. This is how everyone up here lived until about a decade ago when water and wastewater came to the community. For most people making ends meet locally continues to be very hard work. More than I'll likely ever know.

As our time (awhile) here draws to a close, we look forward to our imminent southern migration. And yet I feel a kind of tearing. Being torn away from here, our other home. But that's okay my heart has room for two homes, families, and all else.

Last week the girls and I joined their Moshum out on the Albany River to go and check his gill nets. There were a few big pike, wall eye, a sturgeon, and a nimaybin, some kind of sucker. Now's a good time to do things on the river easily, because most of the ice is gone and water levels are still relatively hight, if quickly dropping.

Of course we enjoyed everything about it since it was a nice afternoon of sunshine. M and L are gaining confidence in the big freighter canoes now and this time chose to try their hand at helping land the canoe with the aid of the large, hand carved paddles, apoyuk.

Soon we'll get the canoe out on the local lakes for some angling, once spawning has passed and fish take to biting. More to learn and look forward to.